by Cheryl Bolen
It suddenly occurred to him Emma had become very dear to him. Not in the same way as Maria. Entirely different.
In Emmott's office, they received welcome news. "My penmanship expert will testify that the will is a forgery. Even though it was a very good forgery, especially the deceased's signature, he says he can point out that the descenders, those letters which go below the line of writing, are fundamentally different than Mr. Hastings'. He said it would have been impossible for Mr. Hastings to have drafted that later will."
"But did you not say that kind of testimony may not hold up in court?" she asked.
"I have a plan. I will gather testimonials from a half a dozen respected leaders that point to our expert's credibility. "
"That sounds interesting, but you've got to have more than that," Adam said.
Emmott eyed him. "Have you come up with anything?"
Adam shrugged. "Not really." He pulled the forged Faukes' letter from his pocket, along with some authentic examples of Faukes' handwriting and handed them to his solicitor. "This is what we believe to be a forged letter. Mr. Faukes swears he did not write it. Here are examples of his penmanship." Adam explained the background.
"I'll have my expert examine these, too."
"And," Adam added, producing the shipping label from the Ceylon Tea Company, "this bears the handwriting of the suspected forger. See if your expert can see a link between his penmanship and the forged will."
* * *
"Where do we go next?" she asked.
"I'm going to drop you at Lady Fiona's. She wants to educate you all about Almack's. We go there tonight. I will have the opportunity to display my lovely wife."
Her heartbeat thundered. She was exhilarated at the same time she was nervous. Adam expected her to be greatly admired in her lavender dress and the Bourbon jewels, but she knew next to the beautiful Ladies Fiona and Sophia she would look like a mouse—even in her stunning amethyst and diamond necklace.
In spite of her misgivings, she was thrilled to be going to the famed Almack's she had read so much about. Only those in the highest echelons of Society received the coveted vouchers for the once-weekly ball. She would have been thrilled even to have been one of the punch servers in order to gape at the beau monde.
"And what will you be doing this afternoon?" she asked him.
"I shall put in a long-overdue appearance at my bank."
"I'm sorry you've neglected your duties because of me."
He took her hand and kissed it. "Don't be. I've enjoyed every moment."
* * *
How, she wondered that night, had the insipid assemblies she'd attended previously prepared her for the pinnacle of assemblies—that at the august chambers of Almack's? If she were a wagering person, she would bet that every lady here had been taught by a dancing master. Since there were no dancing masters in either Upper Barrington or Lower Barrington, her cousin Annabelle, who was Sir Arthur's granddaughter and who had made her debut into London Society, had given Emma enough instructions that she cut a very dashing figure at the assemblies in Nottingham, the closest town of any size to the Barringtons.
Would those here know she was but an imposter? Even if she did don a necklace which had come from one of the great European royal families. Dear, dear Adam knew how insecure she felt and had promised he would partner her for the first country dance as well as the first waltz.
Upon entering the brightly lit ballroom, Lady Sophia presented her to Ladies Cowper and Jersey. Emma's heart pounded so furiously she was afraid the stalwarts of London Society would hear it. Ever since she could remember she had read about Almack's and the aristocratic patronesses who screened each applicant as strictly as a father grills his daughter's suitors. To her astonishment, the patronesses welcomed her with bright smiles and compliments on her beautiful necklace. She never would have boasted about its provenance, but Lady Sophia did. Even Lady Jersey, who was perhaps the richest heiress in the kingdom, gushed about it.
She wondered if she should compliment them about their lovely dresses and the sparkling coronets they wore, but she was much too timid.
When the orchestra started, Adam claimed her for the first set. She was relieved that even if she made a misstep, he would understand. He never chided her because of her unsophisticated ways. Though she was nervous at first, she soon gained confidence. Not only that, she was extraordinarily proud to be standing up with the most handsome man present, extraordinarily proud to be his wife, and extraordinarily proud of her own appearance. It would have been impossible to have looked better than she did tonight. She had no illusions that she was a great beauty (as Maria most certainly was), but she was keenly aware of the role of a talented hairdresser, a skilled modiste, and nearly priceless jewels played in creating the illusion of beauty. She had Adam to thank for all of this.
And for so much more. As they danced, she reveled in her good fortune. If only there was some way she could repay his many kindnesses in some way. For now, all she could do was to make sure she did not embarrass him.
As they faced each other on the long way as another pair of dancers executed their steps between the two rows, the look her husband gave her was enough to melt her expanding heart. There was such tenderness in his warm gaze, she wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him.
After the first set was over, the three Birmingham brothers and their wives gathered for Almack's notoriously bland punch. Being with these new relations compensated for the trepidation of an unfamiliar situation. Not that her own nervousness in any way diminished her joy. She had never thought she, little Orphan Emma from Upper Barrington, would ever be standing in Almack's amongst so many aristocratic matrons whom she had read about for years. Never would she have thought to see so many stunning gowns or so many fabulous jewels.
"It's official," Lady Fiona said, gazing up adoringly at her husband, "Nick has filed his candidacy for Parliament."
"This is great news," William said.
Adam smiled at the brother who looked so much like him. "We'll do anything we can to help you."
"I'm gratified you said that." Nick's gaze circled the family gathering. "I need to do electioneering in Yorkshire later this week, and I can use some familial support."
"We'll come," Adam said.
Emma felt like whooping with joy. She would get to go to York! Even better—she was assured of many more days in his presence.
"I think all our lovely wives should come, too," William said. "Nick will be sure to win then."
Lady Sophia nodded vigorously. "My brother tells me that the voters do love to interact with candidates' pretty wives—not that I'm suggesting I'm pretty—but Lady Fiona and Emma most certainly are."
Will's gaze softened as he peered at his wife. "Any man with eyes in his head would know I have the good fortune to have wed the loveliest lady in the kingdom . . ." He paused and looked at Emma and Lady Fiona. "Meaning no offense to the other beautiful ladies present."
They all laughed.
"Since it's your electioneering," Adam said to Nick, "I'll leave all the traveling arrangements to you. I will, of course bring my carriage."
Nick nodded. "Don't worry about servants. Mine can handle the six of us—your valet and your lady's maid excepted."
"There's no sense in coming in three carriages," William said. "Sophia and I can double up."
"Why don't you ride with Adam and Emma?" Lady Fiona suggested. "We'll be bringing Emmie—who's dying to see her Aunt Verity' babe. The dear child takes up a whole seat with all her dolls."
William shook his head. "No. Adam and Emma ride with me."
"I'd almost forgotten," Lady Fiona said with a little laugh, "how well-suited Will's carriage is for long-distance travel."
For her part, Emma could not believe William's carriage superior to Adam's. Nothing could be as comfortable as Adam's for a long ride.
Adam raised his brows and directed his remarks to his wife. "Because my youngest brother believes the Birminghams can be
a target for robbers, he always travels with a veritable arsenal."
"And," Nick added, "he knows how to use the weapons."
Adam chuckled. "Mama always says the Lord makes the youngest son the toughest for a very good reason."
"How many days will the journey take?" Emma asked.
"If we leave very early," Nick said, "and if the roads are good, and if there's no rain, we should be able to make the trip in two very long days."
"Then we'd be one night at an inn on the way?" Lady Sophia inquired.
Nick nodded.
It would be Emma's first time ever to stay at an inn. How exciting! Her face brightened as she looked up at her husband. "Then I shall get to meet Verity, too?"
Adam eyed her affectionately. "As well as our mother."
Would her adventures never cease? How thrilling that she would be seeing more of England that she had ever thought to see! How fun it would be to travel in William's fine coach, especially with her sweet sister-in-law, Lady Sophia. She also admired William vastly. How excited she was that she would meet Adam's sister and mother.
More excitement was to follow when the orchestra struck up the next set. Even though she thought she would rather be a spectator than a participant, alas, she discovered she was favored by a great many gentlemen here, judging by the rush of men begging her to stand up with them. She had no precedent for such an occurrence. Added to that quandary, she did not know one man from another.
Adam took the dilemma from her hands. "Lord Drummond," he said to the first man, "I should like to present my wife to you."
Lord Drummond, who was older even than Adam, eyed her. "I do pray, Mrs. Birmingham, you will do me the goodness of standing up with me."
* * *
Adam had no desire to dance with any woman other than his wife. In fact, he was compelled to stand at the wall and watch as she danced with Drummond. He had wanted to be proud of Emma. He'd wanted her to look lovely in her new finery. But he had not been prepared for the way he felt when other men made cakes of themselves over his wife! Drummond was a notorious womanizer. Not at all the sort he wanted hanging about his sweet little wife. And Drummond wasn't the only one. Several noted rakes had been practically drooling over Emma as if she were fresh meat. He did not at all like the way the so-called cream of society conducted extramarital affairs.
Now there was still another reason he must look out for her welfare.
Chapter 14
She was surprised the following morning when she entered the breakfast room to find Adam already there. "Sweet heavens, but you've actually arrived here first. How novel!"
He was seated at the table, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, a plate piled with toast in front of him, and he was regarding her with a stern expression.
Her heart fell. After her success the previous night, she had hoped he would be proud of her.
"I have to go to the bank today."
Was that why he was so grave? Did he regret that they would not be able to spend the day together? She helped herself to coffee from the sideboard, slathered butter on a slice of toast, and came to sit across from him. "I shall miss you."
"I expect you'll be besieged with morning callers today," he said gruffly.
"But I talked with no woman, other than Lady Fiona and Lady Sophia. I did greet Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper, but I hardly think women of their stature will be calling on me."
His eyes narrowed. "I'm not talking about women. Men will come calling today. Expect to receive nosegays."
Her eyes widened. "You can't be serious! They all know I'm a married woman."
"That has never stood in the way of the flirtations carried on by men in the ton."
"What can I do to discourage flirtations?"
"Nothing. But I must warn you. Many of those men who clamored to dance with you last night are not honorable men. If they call on you, you must be civil to them. But never, ever allow yourself to be alone with any of them. Ever."
She was stunned. "I'm not quite certain I understand what you're saying, understand your warning. Are you saying that peers of the realm with lovely wives and families would try to steal another man's wife?"
"Not steal."
Her brows lowered. "Do you mean they would find it acceptable to, say, drive around Hyde Park with a woman other than their own wife?"
He cleared his throat. "Nothing so public. In fact, some of these men boast about . . . bedding married women."
She could feel the heat climbing into her cheeks. Her mouth went dry. Her eyes locked with his. Even though he was her husband, she was embarrassed to speak on such a personal topic in front of him. She wanted to say, "There's only one man I would ever bed, and that is my husband." But, she was too shy. Finally she said, "Surely you know I am not that kind of woman."
He nodded solemnly. "It's just that many people, especially ones who have never lived in glittering Society, are often so humbled in the presence of nobility they consent to things they never would have done with a mere mister."
Her embarrassment turned to anger. She put hands to hips and glared at him. "I may be unsophisticated, sir, but I am neither stupid nor immoral." She leapt from her chair and stormed from the chamber.
Cursing under his breath, he rushed after her, kicking his chair to the floor as he did so. He was faster than she. When she was half way up the stairs he came abreast of her and gripped her arm. "Forgive me."
She spun around to face him, her eyes still flashing with fury.
He let go of her arm. "I never thought you were anything but principled. You've done nothing wrong. It is my mind which has latched onto this vile subject." He drew a deep breath. "I . . . I was angered by Drummond's attentions to you. I was so proud of your beauty . . . until I realized other men would wish to claim you." He shrugged and offered a wan smile. "I have found that I don't fancy sharing you."
If she weren't certain he was in love with Maria, she would have thought Adam was jealous. At the notion, her anger vanished. She touched his arm. "I pledged myself to but one man before God, the priest, and your family. One man only. Always and forever."
His black eyes were inscrutable as he peered down at her. A muscle in his angular face twitched. He swallowed. Then he did something curious. He lifted her hand and placed a kiss upon it.
Her heart exploded. It wasn't the kiss on her lips that she had prayed for, but it was wonderful nevertheless.
"I wish I didn't have to go to the bank today, but since we'll be traveling to Yorkshire tomorrow I have to dispatch some duties before we leave."
A soft smile on her face, she nodded. "If any of those dreadful peers should call upon me, I shall regale them with praises of my husband."
He smiled and offered his arm. "Please join me for breakfast."
* * *
To her astonishment, Lord Drummond did call on her not long after Adam departed for The City. And her husband had been right. Lord Drummond presented her with a nosegay of violets encased in lovely white lace.
Entertaining morning callers was another new experience for which she was ill prepared. What did one do? "Please sit down, my lord." She waved toward a slender-legged French chair near the silken sofa where she sat. She had no notion of how to begin a conversation with this man. She did not admire him in the least since she had learned he was blatantly unfaithful to his wife. She held the bouquet in her hand. When Studewood entered the chamber she would ask him to see that it was placed in water. "The flowers are lovely. How thoughtful of you." Her voice lacked sincerity. All she could think of was Adam's warning not to allow herself to be alone with this man. Would this be considered being alone? The house was, after all, filled with servants.
She felt tainted just by sitting in the same chamber as him. What a pity that Therese had been dispatched on an errand for her. Otherwise, Therese could have sat in this chamber to lend propriety.
"Lovely flowers for a lovely lady. Tell me, Mrs. Birmingham, how is it that I have never before seen you?"
His sultry gaze lazily trailed over her, pausing discernibly on her breasts. "Birmingham is most fortunate to have captured you before you came upon the ton."
This line of conversation must stop. "It is I who am the fortunate one. Every minute of the day I count my blessings that my dear husband chose me for his wife."
Lord Drummond's eyes narrowed. "Spoken like a bride."
She was thankful Studewood had kept the room's door open. She kept eyeing it, hopeful that Studewood would return. She would be mortified if Adam learned she was alone with this noted scoundrel. Finally she strode to the bell pull and yanked it. "I fear my beautiful flowers will wilt if we don't put them in water."
Studewood came promptly and she asked him to see to her flowers. "Then please bring them back. I do so love violets." In reality, she didn't prefer violets over other flowers, but the more often she was not alone with Lord Drummond, the less agitated she would be. And, hopefully, the presence of others would prevent his unwelcome overtures.
"Since you are new to London, Mrs. Birmingham, it would give me great pleasure to show you about my city."
"How very kind of you," she said without enthusiasm, "but we are now preparing for a trip to Yorkshire for my brother Nicholas's electioneering."
"Oh, yes, I heard where he was standing for Parliament. A pity he's pledged himself to the Whigs."
She was grasping for any topic that would get his mind off wanting to be alone with her. "Then I take it you're a Tory, my lord?"
"Indeed I am. My family has always aligned ourselves with Tories. Those of us who support our Crown are Tories."
"The aunt who raised me greatly admired the Tories."
"An intelligent woman, to be sure."
Having apparently exhausted the Parliamentary topic, they sat silent for a moment. Her ears strained when she thought she heard a door closing , followed by voices downstairs in the entry hall.
"I daresay the loveliest woman at Almack's last night will be holding court today," he said.
She gave him a quizzing look. "To whom can you be referring, my lord?"
