Always True to Her (Emerson Book 2)

by Maureen Driscoll

  The debts had always been paid – either by her father or the dowager. So, if Lord James’s allegations proved to be true, she assumed her father would make good on what was owed him. She hoped Cedric would learn from the experience, but had little faith that he would.

  Her first order of business would be to learn what she could about Cedric’s business in America.

  *

  The pain started before Winifred opened her eyes. There had been many mornings such as this. Not all of them. Not even the majority of them. But in Win’s six-year marriage, her husband had struck her often enough that she was familiar with the order of events.

  They would co-exist for a certain amount of time, sometimes weeks, occasionally months without an incident. Though there had been a time or two when it had only been a matter of days. Then something would set Clarence off. It could be a sizable gaming loss after one of his nights in a hell. There were certainly enough of those. Or it might be a fight with his family.

  Sometimes it was something Win said or did. Or didn’t say or didn’t do. Clarence had once beaten her bare bottom with a hairbrush after she’d laughed when a dog had danced around him barking. Another time, Clarence had remarked that the weather was lovely. And when Win hadn’t readily agreed, he’d pushed her against the wall so hard her head had ached for an entire day.

  He was always careful to never leave bruises on her face or arms. Nowhere they could be seen by others. The bruises would only be visible to Win, her maid and Clarence, since he usually demanded his husbandly rights immediately following one of his beatings. Or tried to, at least. Clarence was rarely able to perform sexually. It had been years since he’d been able to complete the act with her.

  That had been one small mercy in their marriage. Though she’d always wanted children, she did not wish to bring an innocent life into the world that Clarence very much controlled.

  For if he ever struck her child, she would kill him.

  Her father had been deep in debt as Win approached her eighteenth birthday. He’d been taking bids from prospective grooms who’d wished to ally themselves with the Earl of Ridgeway. He’d considered each on one criteria only: whether they had enough blunt to not only settle his substantial debts, but to also offer him a yearly stipend to keep him in the lavish lifestyle to which he’d grown accustomed.

  The old earl had told her there had been several offers for her. A few – but not many – were from gentlemen of the ton. Most had been from the merchant class who wanted an entrée into society. The prospective grooms had ranged in age from sixteen to men in their sixties. It had been somewhat of a relief to learn the man her father had chosen, Clarence Pierce, was only in his early forties, with reddish brown hair and a body just barely giving in to the dissipation of a drinker.

  For Clarence could certainly drink.

  He’d been polite for their brief courtship, but he’d backhanded her on their wedding trip. Her transgression has been to smile at their tour guide who’d shown them Venice. She had meant nothing by the gesture but kindness. Her explanation had only earned her another slap.

  Clarence had then explained to her in an eerily calm voice that she was his property and he would treat her as he pleased. He also informed her of something her father didn’t know. He had bought up all of the earl’s markers, both the ones he’d disclosed and the ones he hadn’t.

  Win didn’t know why her father wouldn’t have disclosed all of his debts, but Clarence had told her the earl had secrets he didn’t want anyone to know. Because of that, Clarence not only owned the earl, but he controlled the fates of Colin, James, Rose and Letty. If Win didn’t do exactly as he said, he would ruin each of them. If she even thought of complaining to her family, he would make Colin an outcast in the ton. If she ever contacted her family without his express permission, he would ensure the earl married Rosemary off when she was sixteen to a man of Clarence’s choosing.

  Win would rather die than subject Rose to that fate, so she’d accepted her husband’s terms. For the time being. Through the years of beatings, she’d considered taking her own life. But she had to remain alive to ensure Clarence would not follow through on his threats. The death of her father had come as a relief, since it meant Colin would now be the earl. He would protect Rose and Letty at all cost.

  She missed her family dearly. She wanted nothing more than to see them, but she knew Clarence well enough to realize he’d punish everyone if she did. Colin might be the earl, but Clarence was still powerful enough to ruin him.

  She felt her ribs. They were bruised, but not broken. Unfortunately, she knew the difference from experience.

  There was a knock at the front door. Win had been prohibited from looking out the window to see visitors. No doubt Clarence believed she would find a way to signal her distress. So she did nothing, only idly wondered who was there.

  She washed at her basin, wincing as she did so. The beating she’d received had been relatively minor and was the first she’d had in almost three weeks. She had to breathe shallowly to keep the pain at bay.

  Her maid, Tawny, entered her chamber without knocking. Tawny, along with the other servants, was paid well to do Clarence’s bidding. Win suspected that Tawny was also his mistress. Better it be Tawny submitting to his whims than Win. She almost felt sorry for the girl.

  Win pulled on her dressing gown, then regretted the movement because of the pain in her ribs. Tawny didn’t miss the wince that went with it. She smirked just the tiniest bit.

  “The master wanted me to tell you your brother James is in town.”

  “James is here?” Win couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t seen her brother in eight years and missed him terribly. Clarence had strict instructions that the post be given only to him. Win suspected that James had written more frequently over the years than the two letters she received annually. And Clarence had already opened them before she saw them.

  “He ain’t here at the house,” said Tawny. “And the master says if he should come, you’re not to see him if you know what’s good for you and them sisters of yours. But he did say I could tell you he brought back a half-breed daughter. He’s not even ashamed of her the way he should be. He’s been taking her with him everywhere. He’ll likely bring her here, too, if you can imagine. A savage like that in a house like this. The master says to remind you that if you try to send word or see them, you’ll be sorry.”

  James was back in England. And he had a daughter. Win tried to never show emotion in front of her husband’s servants, but she couldn’t prevent the smile that broke out on her face at the thought of James – the wildest of her brothers – as a loving father. For she had no doubt that he would love his daughter and give her the life none of them had ever had.

  “You think that’s funny, do you?” asked Tawny. “I’d think you wouldn’t want another beatin’. But suit yourself. There’s them that like such things, though I never pegged you for that sort.”

  With that helpful observation, Tawny left with a sway to her hips that would make an opera dancer envious.

  It would be worth a beating to see James again and meet his little girl. But Clarence might follow through on his threats to hurt Rose and Letty. She couldn’t risk it. And she couldn’t place James – or any of her brothers – in the awkward position of keeping her away from her husband. For she was certain that if any of them knew her true situation, they would, at the very least, remove her from this house. That would violate the rules of society and mean the ruination of them all. Not to mention it would earn them Clarence’s wrath. And God only knew what he would do if they took away his property.

  No, she would bear up as she had for years. And hope Clarence would eventually forget about her. Or that she would find a way to escape to America.

  Perhaps one of Clarence’s enemies would finally kill him. Mayhap he’d have to run away to the continent to avoid them.

  She liked the thought of Clarence on the run without her. Perhaps fate would step in and keep them all sa
fe. Though fate hadn’t done such a good job of protecting her so far.

  *

  James was still getting used to the intricacies of dressing a little girl of the ton. If he’d had the money, he would have employed a maid for Anna. As it was, he gave her privacy behind a screen to wash and dress in her shift. Then he went about the task of fitting her with the various petticoats and skirts befitting a girl of her age.

  Anna’s English wardrobe consisted of two simple gowns he’d bought second-hand in Philadelphia and two dresses which no longer fit Letty. When James had met his daughter, she’d been wearing the clothing of her people. She was comforted by the familiarity of the buckskin and cotton garments, but James felt it was important that she dress like a British lady in public now that they were in London. People stared at her enough as it was. He could only imagine what it would be like if she wore traditional garb. It wasn’t a rejection of her culture, but merely an accommodation to make her stay in England easier.

  “Damnation!” muttered James, as soon as he realized he’d laced her dress wrong.

  Anna turned to look at him with wide eyes.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But your papa is not a very good lady’s maid.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, with a slight smile before turning back to leave him to his task.

  She never complained. Not even when he’d burned their meals during their travels. Or when the voyage had been so rough that she’d been ill. She hadn’t complained about the crowded stage. She didn’t even question him when she was introduced to a house full of strangers and informed they were now her family. She just went with him and did what he asked.

  And that humbled him more than anything ever had or ever would.

  He finished dressing her, then checked to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. She was a little rumpled compared to other girls, but part of that was his ineptitude with an iron, not that he tried to hone his skills with any frequency. One nice attribute of wool was that it didn’t wrinkle like cotton.

  He had a new admiration for valets and ladies’ maids.

  But it wasn’t just his unskilled ironing that marred the overall look. Unfortunately, Anna’s clothes were not tailored to fit her. Letty’s gowns were a bit too big on her, despite Rose’s alterations before they’d departed Wiltshire. He had a feeling his sister had left a little bit of room for Anna to grow into them. It was wise of her, of course, since even if he regained his land, he wouldn’t be able to spend too much on a new wardrobe.

  His first priority was to keep Anna well fed and with a roof over her head. He wished he could dress her in the finest wardrobe, but he would settle for clean, warm clothing. And as he’d been reminded countless times both in America and here back home, very few people had even that.

  He took some satisfaction in how well he’d plaited her hair. He was learning. He was just grateful she was so patient. “Would you like to meet your Aunt Win today?”

  Anna nodded, though he had a feeling she would have done so even if he’d asked if she’d like to be fed to a particularly hungry lion.

  After breaking their fast under the always disapproving eye of Williams, they set off for Win’s home in Mayfair. He was slowly getting used to the hustle and bustle of London again and even let Anna walk on her own for a bit, though he kept a tight hold of her hand.

  It was a one mile walk to the imposing manor of Clarence Pierce. James had been curious to see it, and once he was there, it was much as he’d imagined. It was a massive home, one of the largest on the block, complete with gargoyles and fountains and other obvious signs of wealth both disdained and envied by aristocrats with good bloodlines and increasingly bad finances. James’s father must have envied the money that had enabled a tradesman to purchase it.

  Rumor had it that Clarence Pierce’s father hadn’t come into his fortune honestly or honorably. He was a speculator who gambled on the bad fortune of others. If there was a merchant ship lost at sea, the elder Mr. Pierce had probably profited from it. Colin and Nick weren’t quite sure how Clarence Pierce contributed to the family fortune, but in an era when many families were being forced to economize – though most never even hinted at it – the Pierce fortune continued to grow.

  James went up the stairs and banged on the knocker, a rather garish gold ornament engraved with “Pierce.” Perhaps it was useful after a night of drinking to ensure one had returned to the correct house. After a moment, the butler opened the door. “May I help you, sir?”

  The butler’s accent was more proper than the highest stickler of the ton. But that’s how it was when members of the merchant class sought acceptance by their so-called betters. They surrounded themselves with proper servants and the most expensive furnishings, only to later learn they’d offended the ton by poaching servants and flaunting their wealth.

  “I am Lord James Emerson and have come to see my sister.”

  “She is away, sir.”

  James was very disappointed, but not terribly surprised. “I would like to wait for her, then.”

  “She is away on the continent, sir.”

  Damn it. But Colin had told him that might be the case. “Is Pierce here?”

  “He is with her, my lord.”

  “When do you expect them to return?”

  “They did not tell me, my lord.”

  “Might I leave word for my sister?”

  The butler hesitated for just a moment. “I can inform Mr. and Mrs. Pierce that you called, upon their return.”

  “Can I not come in and write a note?” He wanted to see the house. He wanted to see something that reminded him of Win. He missed her terribly.

  “Unfortunately, my lord, we have workers in the house and it is not fit for company. But if you send a note, I will make sure to keep it for the master’s return.”

  “I am not interested in the master’s return. Only the mistress’s.”

  “The answer is still the same.”

  James was frustrated. He’d wanted some assurance that Win was well, that her life was a good one. While he hadn’t expected the butler to be the welcoming sort – butlers seldom were – he hated thinking of her coming home to this dour man day after day.

  He would write her a note, then deliver it himself, in hopes that a friendlier footman might answer the door the next time.

  “I shall send a letter,” he said. “And should Mrs. Pierce return, tell her I am staying at the Earl of Layton’s town house and would very much like for her to call on me.”

  “Very good sir,” said the butler, as he closed the door.

  “One more thing,” said James, who stuck his boot in the door, preventing it from being shut. “I also have a message for your master. My sister is very important to my brothers and me. We would protect her with our lives. And anyone who harmed her would not be long for this world.”

  The butler’s eyes widened. “Are you threatening the master?” he asked, offended.

  “Yes.”

  James turned and guided Anna down the stairs. He tried not to let his anger show. He didn’t know for certain that the butler was lying. But he knew something wasn’t right and he had a feeling Pierce was in town. He wanted to learn more about the situation his sister was living in. He definitely didn’t want to go back to America without seeing her. He would talk to Colin and Nick again to find out what could be done to re-establish contact with Win.

  His back was turned to the house, so he did not notice the slight movement from the window above. Or how its occupant kept watch over him and his daughter until they were out of sight, and even a few moments longer than that.

  And he certainly did not hear the quiet weeping.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The wind was cold as Irene hurried to the meeting place in Hyde Park. She’d once again been able to slip out without taking her maid. She began to wonder if anyone noticed her comings and goings. She knew her father didn’t, but would have thought her grandmother would notice, if for no other reason than to give her
a reason to upbraid her.

  Not that a reason was ever necessary for a lecture.

  But since it was eleven of the clock, her grandmother was still abed, which gave Irene the opportunity to slip out and meet Lord James and Anna. She wasn’t sure why she was so excited to see them. He was, after all, at odds with Cedric and his actions might harm her entire family. But she didn’t feel like he was her enemy. He was just someone who misunderstood his agreement with Cedric. And had a beautiful little girl. And was rather well-formed in a way young ladies were not supposed to know or think about.

  She arrived promptly at their appointed place and not a minute later she saw Lord James walking toward her, hand-in-hand with Anna. The little girl was wearing scarves covering her neck, chin and forehead, as well as her wool bonnet. She must have been wearing at least three jumpers under her coat for she was almost as round as she was tall.

  Irene could not prevent her laugh.

  “Is something amusing?” asked Lord James.

  “I’m surprised poor Anna is even able to walk wearing so many layers of clothing.” She smiled at the girl and was rewarded with a grin in response. At least Anna’s eyes were smiling. Her mouth was beneath untold layers of wool.

  “I did not want her to be cold,” said Lord James, studying his daughter and no doubt wondering if he could fit yet another scarf around her.

  “I daresay there is not much chance of that,” said Irene. “But I applaud your good sense, sir. Not many fathers would know how to properly prepare their children for the cold.”

  “Yes, well, I daresay that is the first time anyone has accused me of having an abundance of good sense. But are you dressed warmly enough, Miss Wallace? Perhaps we should go indoors.”

  She laughed again. “I am dressed warmly enough, sir, and am quite fond of walking. Perhaps we might keep warm by taking a stroll. Unless, of course, you are cold. Though I would hope you are a heartier soul than that.” Her challenge was obvious in her smile.

  “Miss Wallace, after living in the wilds of New York in winter, I consider weather such as this to be a midsummer’s day. I would strip down to my shirtsleeves if not for fear of offending your delicate sensibilities.”