by Laura Beers
A broad smile came to Lord Charles’s face. “I am glad to hear that, Miss Blackmore,” he said.
12
Martin watched as Hannah’s face lit up in response to something Lord Charles said, and he felt his hands tighten around the reins. He had a sudden urge to race forward and demand to know what they were speaking of, which he realized was utterly ridiculous. He couldn’t very well intrude on their private conversation for no apparent reason.
Lady Emma’s voice broke through his musings. “Are you all right, my lord?”
“I am.” His tone was unintentionally curt.
“You just seem rather preoccupied today,” she commented.
Martin cast a glance at her. “I do apologize.” He admired her grey gelding for a moment. “You have a beautiful horse.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “My father purchased him for me when I debuted for the Season, and I must admit he is anxious to stretch his legs.”
Martin turned his attention back towards Hannah. “I assured Lord Berkshire that I would see to Miss Blackmore being properly chaperoned at all times.”
Lady Emma followed his gaze. “You seem rather close to Miss Blackmore.”
“I am,” he replied. “Our fathers were friends, and we spent most of the hunting months in our youth together.”
“That must have been nice.”
Martin chuckled. “At the time I thought it was miserable, because I was surrounded by five girls, two of whom were my sisters. However, the Blackmore sisters slowly won me over because they never once asked me to play dolls with them.”
“Is that so?”
“They were the type of girls who would much rather be outside than in the nursery,” he explained. “In fact, whenever we were at the Blackmores’ country estate, we were forbidden to play at the ruins located on their property.”
“Forbidden?” Lady Emma repeated.
“Yes, so naturally we had to go play at the various sites.”
Lady Emma laughed. “That seems logical.”
“One particular morning, we tried to leave Miss Blackmore behind, but she was adamant about joining us on our excursion.”
“Why did you try to leave her behind?”
“Because she was only seven at the time, and we didn’t want her to tattle that we went to this particular set of ruins,” he explained.
“I see.”
“Finally, we relented and allowed her to join us. We spent hours touring the ruins, but as we were coming down the stairs, Miss Blackmore slipped and hurt her arm.”
“That is terrible.”
“I scooped her up in my arms and took her home,” he said. “Miss Blackmore refused to let me leave her side until the doctor arrived and her mother shooed us out of the room.”
Lady Emma’s eyes held approval in them. “You were a good friend to her.”
“I suppose, ever since then, I have felt more like a protector to her.”
“That is admirable.”
“Miss Blackmore doesn’t think so,” he remarked. “She is rather insistent that she doesn’t need my protection, at least not anymore.”
“Why do you suppose that is?”
“I’m afraid I can be rather disagreeable at times, and Miss Blackmore can be just as stubborn.”
Lady Emma had a curious look, as if she were trying to sort out a puzzle. “Did you and Miss Blackmore ever have an understanding between you two?”
He blinked at the absurdity of that question. “Heavens, no,” he replied. “Why would you assume such a thing?”
“Because you speak so fondly of her.”
“I do,” he said, “but that is only because we are dear friends.”
“Is that all?” she pressed.
“Yes,” he asserted with a nod. “I have no designs on Miss Blackmore, I can assure you of that.”
Lady Emma let out a relieved sigh. “I must admit that I am pleased to hear you say that,” she said. “It has been weighing heavily on my mind since I first saw you two together.”
“I’m glad that I have eased your concerns.”
“You have, and I do apologize for even bringing it up,” she remarked, lowering her gaze. “I feel foolish now.”
“Nonsense. I’m glad we have honesty between us.”
“I’m afraid I tend to overthink things,” she shared. “It has been this way since I was a little girl.”
“There is nothing wrong with that.”
She let out a puff of air. “My mother would disagree with you, sir.”
Martin shifted in his saddle. “Why don’t you tell me one thing about yourself that would surprise me?”
“Just one thing?” she repeated with a playful smile on her lips.
“Yes, unless you would like to share more.”
Lady Emma was quiet for a moment. “I am quite proficient at archery.”
“That is not an unusual pastime for a young woman to have.”
A smirk came to her lips. “That may be true, but I am a member of the Royal British Bowmen archery society.”
“That is an impressive accomplishment for a woman,” he acknowledged.
“My father was a member of the society before he died, and he convinced the other members to let me join.”
He gave her a curious look. “Does your mother approve?”
“She doesn’t exactly disapprove,” she said slowly, “but she would rather have me practicing the pianoforte or embroidering.”
“I don’t fault her for that.”
Lady Emma shot him a baffled look. “You don’t?”
“Once you’ve discovered women can be better archers than men, what is next?” he asked with a solemn expression. “Will you start having duels to defend your honor?” He smiled to let her know he was joking.
“Let’s hope not,” she replied with a small smile.
“Frankly, I find duels to be rather distasteful.”
“As do I.” She gave him an expectant look. “Now it is your turn to tell me something shocking.”
He chuckled. “I don’t believe I have done anything shocking in my life.”
“No?” she asked. “That is a pity, then.”
“My life has been mapped out for me,” he shared. “I was born with a great responsibility, and I have strived to be worthy of it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He furrowed his brow. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I know what it’s like to live up to someone else’s expectations,” she said, “and it can be rather exhausting.”
“That it can,” he agreed. “Sometimes I have been overwhelmed by managing all of our investments and properties.”
“That is a fortunate problem to have.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “I have no right to complain.”
She smiled at him. “I don’t think you are complaining,” she said. “I believe it is normal for people to struggle when given a new challenge.”
“I would agree.”
Lady Emma’s gaze left his and roamed the woodlands. “I’m afraid my older brother has not adapted well to inheriting my father’s title.”
“No?”
“Roswell changed after my father’s death,” she shared. “He used to be kind, but now he is just angry.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Lady Emma glanced down at her gloved hands before sharing, “It has been a source of contention in our home.”
“My father changed after my older sister’s death, as well,” he found himself admitting.
“How have you dealt with it?”
Martin shrugged. “I always hoped that he would resort back to the way he was, but now I have just come to terms that he is a different person.”
“I don’t think I can do that with my brother.”
“Nor should you,” he encouraged. “Don’t give up on him just yet.”
“I won’t.”
“He is lucky to have a sister like you,” he praised.
Th
e sound of Hannah laughing brought his attention back to her, and he narrowed his eyes at Lord Charles. What had he said that was so humorous? He was friends with Lord Charles, and he knew he wasn’t that amusing.
“It would appear that my brother and Miss Blackmore are getting along quite nicely,” Lady Emma commented.
“Yes, it would.”
Lady Emma offered him an amused look. “I can assure you that my brother is harmless.”
“I am well aware.”
“Then why are you glowering at him?”
Martin turned towards her. “I am doing no such thing.”
“You are,” she replied, “but please do not let me stop you. You may glower away.”
Martin chuckled. “I promise I won’t glower at your brother for the rest of our ride.”
“Promises, promises,” she teased.
Martin arrived at his townhouse as the sun was starting to set. He had spent an enjoyable afternoon with Lady Emma and found her to be an enchanting young woman. She was a pleasant distraction from his never-ending work, and he had no doubt that, given time, he could care greatly for her.
The door opened and his butler greeted him. “Good evening, milord.”
“Good evening, Moreland,” he said as he stepped into the entry hall. “I will be in my study until supper.”
“As you wish.”
His sister stepped out from the drawing room. “How was your ride through Hyde Park with Lady Emma?”
“It went well.”
“Will she be my new sister?” Marianne asked with a smile on her face.
He chuckled. “I’m afraid I haven’t decided yet.”
“That is a shame,” Marianne said dramatically. “I have longed for another sister for so long.”
“You shall have to wait a little longer.”
Marianne sighed. “You disappoint me, brother.”
“I assure you that was not my intention,” he said as he walked over to her. “What has been occupying your time today?”
“The usual pursuits, I suppose.”
“Such as?”
“I practiced the pianoforte for nearly two hours, and I embroidered my initials on a handkerchief,” she replied. “Oh, I also wrote a few letters.”
“You have had a productive day, if you ask me.”
Marianne smirked. “But I didn’t ask you.”
“If you will excuse me, I have work I need to do.”
His sister glanced over his shoulder before she lowered her voice. “Father’s home, and he is in a foul mood.”
“Is that so?”
She nodded. “If I were you, I would avoid him until supper.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“I am glad to hear that,” she replied. “I am going to have a long soak until then and hide out in my bedchamber.”
“Surely he can’t be that bad.”
Marianne put her hands up in front of her. “You have been warned.”
“Enjoy your soak, sister,” Martin said before he started walking towards his study.
He stepped into the room and walked over to his desk. As he sat down in the chair, he reached for the correspondence neatly tied in a pile on the edge of his desk. He pulled the string off and started looking through the letters.
He had just opened the first letter when his father stormed into his study. “There you are,” he said, his words slightly slurred. “You have been gone for the whole day!”
“Have you been drinking, Father?”
“I have,” his father replied, holding up the nearly empty glass in his hand, “but that is none of your concern.”
“You are drunk.”
His father shook his head vehemently. “I am no such thing.”
“Perhaps you should go lie down.”
“Not until you tell me what you think you were doing with Lady Emma in Hyde Park.”
Martin leaned back in his chair. “I went on a ride with Lady Emma, her brother, Lord Charles, and Miss Blackmore.”
“Don’t you realize that people saw you cavorting with Lady Emma?”
Martin frowned. “I was not cavorting, Father.”
“No?” His father took the last sip of his drink. “You have no decency towards your betrothed.”
“We both know that I am not betrothed.”
His father walked over to the drink cart and placed his glass down. “I gave my word to Lord Whittingham that you would offer for his daughter.”
“That was a foolhardy thing to do, especially since you gave me a month to find my own bride.”
Picking up the decanter, his father removed the stopper and poured some brandy into his glass. “I did not intend for you to find the first strumpet you could and marry her.”
“You are being entirely unfair to Lady Emma,” he said firmly. “She is innocent, and her reputation is above reproach.”
“That may be true, but I’m afraid you have little choice but to marry Lady Isabella.”
“And why is that?”
His father reached for his glass and took a long sip. “I’m afraid I owe some money to Lady Whittingham, and Lord Whittingham has agreed to wipe the debt clean if you marry his daughter.”
“How much do you owe?”
His father paused. “Ten thousand pounds.”
Martin sucked in a breath. “How did you come to owe Lady Whittingham this money?”
“She is famous for her gambling parties, and I’m afraid I just kept accruing the debt over time,” he explained. “I thought I could earn the money back, but I just kept going deeper into the hole.”
“That is generally what happens in gambling.”
“Regardless, if you don’t marry Lady Isabella, then you ruin your own future.”
“How so?”
His father walked over to the desk and placed his glass down. “We both know that our estates are profitable, but we don’t have the funds to pay back the debt.”
“No, we don’t,” Martin admitted reluctantly.
“Which is why you must marry Lady Isabella,” his father pressed.
Martin shoved back his chair and rose. “I am not going to marry Lady Isabella!” he declared as he walked over to the window.
“You must!”
“There must be another way.”
His father shook his head. “There is no other way,” he said. “You are incredibly naïve to believe there is.”
“Do you have no remorse about gambling away my future?” Martin asked.
His father scoffed. “You should be thanking me.”
“I should?” he questioned, lifting his brow. “And why is that, exactly?”
“You could do much worse than Lady Isabella.”
Martin crossed his arms over his chest. “You are unbelievable, Father.”
His father picked up his glass and tossed back the rest of his drink. He slammed the glass onto the desk. “Now you are just being unreasonable!”
“I don’t think I am.”
“You marry Lady Isabella, and you sire a son,” his father said. “After that, you can have a mistress or two. It hardly matters to me.”
“It matters to me!” Martin exclaimed. “I take vows of matrimony very seriously.”
His father pointed at him. “Do you know what your problem is?”
“What?”
“You care too much about what other people think,” his father said. “Lady Isabella won’t take issue with you having a mistress. In fact, she will encourage you to seek out enjoyment from other women.”
“I don’t believe that to be the case.”
“Genteel women don’t enjoy being intimate,” his father argued. “They only do so to produce an heir and do their duty.”
“I don’t know that to be true, but it doesn’t change my opinion on the matter.”
His father waved his hand in front of him. “You can judge me all you want, but I made your bed, and now you have to lie in it.”
“We could always sell one of our esta
tes off to pay back your gambling debts.”
His father’s eyes grew wide. “Those estates have been in our family for generations!” he shouted. “You wouldn’t dare destroy our family’s legacy by doing something so stupid!”
“I am not sure what I am going to do yet.”
His father stumbled over to the settee and dropped down. “We both know you will marry Lady Isabella, because you will soon recognize it is the only way to move forward.”
Martin stared at his father in disbelief. How dare he try to force him in such a high-handed manner, as if his future was of little concern to him?
“I will not be bartered in your scheme,” Martin said sternly, uncrossing his arms.
“It is hardly a scheme,” his father replied curtly. “You need a bride, with a dowry, and Lady Isabella fits the bill.”
“I want to marry a woman I love.”
His father huffed. “And Lady Emma is your choice?”
“I haven’t made up my mind.”
“You are fooling yourself, son,” his father said. “Love is fleeting. It is a brief spark that will wither out and die.”
Martin frowned. “I disagree.”
“Your mother and I had love once.” A pained look came to his face. “Love isn’t worth the trouble of pursuing.”
Walking closer to his father, Martin stopped and placed his hands on the back of an upholstered armchair. “You and I will never agree on this subject, because I believe that love is always worth it in the end.”
“Fine,” his father declared. “Take Lady Isabella as a wife, but retain Lady Emma as your mistress.”
“You believe me to be as cold and unfeeling as that?”
His father leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “Frankly, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“To love is to put your heart at risk, and I have been burned too many times.” Tears came into his father’s eyes, but he blinked them back. “It is better not to form attachments.”
“That’s a sad way to live.”
“It’s safer.”
Martin pushed off the back of the chair. “I will meet with our man of business tomorrow, but there must be a way out of our current situation without having to sacrifice my future.”
Rising, his father walked over to the drink cart and picked up the decanter again, filled his glass with a generous helping of brandy, and put the decanter back down. “You will thank me one day,” he said as he picked up his drink.
