A Lord's Flaming Return: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Henrietta Harding

  Her face twisted, remembering that excited girl with her whole life ahead of her. She would never have suspected back then that nine years later, she would still be unmarried. Nor what a terrible chore these social engagements would become.

  She stopped abruptly as her nerves overcame her. She shouldn’t have let Olivia talk her into this. Especially not after the shock she had at the Mathesons’ garden party. All she felt like doing was curling up in a ball, rather like a snail into its shell.

  But her family would not let her, of course. Olivia had obviously told them about her turn at the garden party, but no one asked her why she had suddenly become faint. They had obviously thought that she had simply been overcome with it all – it had been her first social engagement in months, after all. And they would not accept it as an excuse to stop going out.

  She gazed at her sister, who was standing beside her. Olivia had questioned her gently about it, but she hadn’t told her sister the truth. She had merely said that she had been overcome with heat, and Olivia had not pushed the issue. There was simply no way she could tell her sister. She had never told another living soul about what had happened all those years ago.

  He was back. He was in the district once more.

  She shivered despite the heat of the room, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. She was in danger. The more she socialised, the greater the chance she would bump into him. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach, even thinking about it. What on earth would she do?

  “Emme,” whispered Olivia. “Are you quite alright, dearest? You are as pale as a sheet.”

  Emmeline took a deep breath. “Promise me that we may leave if I do not feel up to it,” she whispered back imploringly. “I did not even want to attend this evening, Liv. Will you promise me?”

  “Of course,” said Olivia, frowning slightly. “I promise.” She paused. “Dearest, I know that something is bothering you. You have been even more subdued than usual since that garden party. Will you not tell me? I may be able to help.”

  Emmeline gazed at her sister. A sudden yearning swept over her to tell her everything. How good would it feel to finally lay the burden down and confess it all? Especially to her sweet sister. Olivia was one of the kindest and understanding souls in the world. Surely, she would not judge her too harshly?

  But as soon as the thought entered her mind, she rejected it. Yes, Olivia was understanding and tolerant, but to tell her the truth … well, her sister would be shocked. And Emmeline didn’t think she could bear to see the look of disgust on her dear sister’s face. Her own face started to burn with the shame of it.

  No, she could never tell anyone. She would take the secret with her to the grave. The only other person who knew was him. She hoped that he was still enough of the man she had once known not to shame her by talking of what had happened between them to anyone.

  I am in danger.

  She must be very careful, indeed. She would humour her family by attending only a few social events to reduce the chances of bumping into him. Hopefully, his business dealings would conclude quickly, and he would soon be gone. It was all that she could do.

  “I am quite alright, dear sister,” said Emmeline, turning to Olivia. “Now, let us mingle as we must before I lose my nerve entirely.”

  ***

  An hour later, Emmeline was making painstaking conversation with Lady Grey, one of her grandmother’s friends, when she felt a sudden frisson of fear pass through her. She didn’t know where it came from, only that it was real, and it was strong.

  She paused, turning her head slowly as she gazed into the crowd. There were groups of people everywhere, talking and laughing, and there were many on the dance floor as well. Her heart beating fast, she carefully scanned the crowd.

  Suddenly, she froze, feeling rather like a deer before a hunter.

  Her worst fears had come true. He was here.

  Her heart lurched. He was standing in the distance, surrounded by people. A gentleman she had never met before, looking very like him, and Mr Hardy, the gentleman who had spoken to her at the party. The gentleman who had inadvertently warned her that he was back in this district.

  Sweat broke over her body, quite abruptly. She could feel it running in rivulets down her neck and beading her brow. Even though she had been warned, the shock of seeing him in the flesh after all this time was almost overwhelming.

  Sickeningly, she could not look away.

  He looked the same as she remembered. The same commanding height, towering over all around him. The olive complexion and dark, almost black eyes. She had teased him once that perhaps he was a changeling; that the gypsies had left him at his parents’ doorsteps. He did not look at all like his uncle, who was very fair.

  He was still the handsomest man she had ever laid eyes upon.

  He turned, taking a sip of champagne, gazing into the crowd. She saw the conversation flow around him, but he wasn’t attending it at all. He seemed very far away in his mind – almost as if he was listening to something private that only he could hear.

  Her heart was thumping so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest. She had to turn and walk away in the opposite direction before he saw her. She had to move this very instant. She would find Olivia and remind her of her promise to leave this godforsaken assembly when she wanted. And then, with luck, they would be gone.

  But to her utter horror, she found she could not move. It was as if her feet were glued to the ground. And she simply could not stop gazing upon him, almost feasting her eyes.

  He looked the same … but he also looked different. Older, yes, but that was to be expected; it had been three years since she had last seen him after all. No, it was more than that, almost a deep, soul weariness surrounding him like an aura. His eyes were duller than she remembered, and there were creases around them that had never been there before.

  Where had he been, and what had he been doing in the years since they had last seen each other?

  “There you are,” said a voice at her elbow. “I have been looking for you everywhere.”

  She turned sharply. Olivia was standing there, smiling benignly. She felt like it had been months since she had last spoken to her sister rather than only an hour.

  “Is anything wrong?” Olivia’s eyes widened as she stared at her.

  She gripped her sister’s arm. “We must leave,” she hissed. “Now.”

  But her sister was looking beyond her, a somewhat glazed expression on her face. She raised her hand and waved at someone before turning back to Emmeline.

  “Mr Hardy wants us to join him,” she said. “The gentleman you were talking to the other day when you felt faint. Do you remember him?”

  Before she could protest, her sister was dragging her across the room to the very group of people that she would walk over hot coals to avoid.

  ***

  She felt as if she were in the middle of a very strange dream by the time they reached the group of gentlemen. Almost as if nothing was quite real anymore, and perhaps, she was as insubstantial as a shadow.

  She had been tempted to turn around and run in the opposite direction; the instinct had been so strong it was difficult to fight it. But Emmeline knew she would make a scene if she did that. It would be very obvious to everyone that she was being rude and avoiding the group. There was nothing for it but to let Olivia lead her there, rather like a lamb to the slaughter.

  “The Vaughan sisters,” said Mr Hardy, smiling with delight. “I say, it made my day to see you both through the crowd.” He gazed at Emmeline. “I hope you are feeling better now, Miss Vaughan.”

  Emmeline smiled faintly. “I am very well, sir, I thank you.”

  “Are you acquainted with my business associates?” He turned to the two men at his side. “Lord Ralph Montagu, and his cousin, Lord Benedict Montagu?”

  “We are acquainted,” said Benedict, his face grim, as he bowed curtly. Ralph bowed as well but did not look any more pleased to greet them than his cousin.


  There was a strained silence.

  “Jolly good then,” said Mr Hardy, looking a little perplexed. He turned back to Emmeline. “Miss Vaughan, would you do me the pleasure of standing with me for the next dance?”

  Emmeline took a deep breath, feeling as if she were about to faint anew. “Oh, no. I really could not …”

  “Why ever not?” asked Mr Hardy, frowning slightly.

  “We were just about to leave,” she replied, a bit desperately. She turned to Olivia. “Weren’t we, dear sister? The carriage is ready for us.”

  “Of course,” said Olivia, looking surprised. She turned to the group. “We must bid you good evening, gentlemen. It was a pleasure.”

  They both curtseyed before turning and walking away.

  “What was that all about?” hissed Olivia into her ear as they pushed their way through the crowd. “It was all rather awkward, but I have no idea why.”

  Emmeline took a deep breath. “I cannot speak of it here,” she whispered back, tears pricking behind her eyes. “But I promise you that if you can just get me out of here, I will tell you everything.”

  Olivia looked shocked. “Of course, dearest. We are on our way.”

  She stumbled getting into the carriage, almost falling. Olivia had to put out a hand to steady her.

  And then – at last – they were away, the wheels of the carriage slowly turning. She didn’t look back at the hall. She kept her eyes firmly ahead, gazing at the road out the window, not seeing anything at all.

  Her worst fears had come true. Not only had she seen Benedict, but she had been forced to acknowledge him as well.

  She placed her balled fist in her mouth, biting down to keep back the tears. He had gazed upon her with the eyes of a stranger, and his voice had been cold. He hadn’t looked any more pleased to see her than she was to see him.

  Her heart lurched. It had been so very different … once upon a time.

  It wasn’t working. The tears she was trying so desperately to keep at bay suddenly spilled out. She leant forward, hugging her chest, sobbing with abandon.

  Chapter 6

  Olivia supported Emmeline getting out of the carriage when they were home at last. She gazed at her sister gratefully; she was sure of not being able to walk at all if Olivia was not there. It was as if her legs had turned to water beneath her.

  The house was dark when they entered it, with only a few candles burning. Olivia knew as well as she did that their parents were still in the parlour, but she did not lead her there. Instead, they slipped past the room and up the staircase to her own chambers on the second floor.

  Olivia led her to her bed, sitting down beside her. She took out her lace handkerchief and gently wiped the tears from her face. Emmeline shook with gratitude. What would she do without her sister by her side?

  They didn’t speak for five minutes. Olivia simply held her hand. Eventually, she felt recovered enough to turn to her sister.

  “I am so very sorry,” she whispered, her face twisting. “So sorry.”

  “You do not need to apologise,” whispered Olivia. “You are overwrought, Emme. My only concern is for you and that you are well enough to speak to me about it.”

  Emmeline nodded. “Yes, of course. I did promise you.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “I hardly know where to begin …”

  “At the start,” said Olivia, gently stroking her face. “I have always found it a good place when there is a story to be told.”

  Emmeline laughed despite herself. She took another deep breath.

  “I am acquainted with one of the gentlemen who we spoke with,” she said quietly. “I knew him very well many years ago.”

  Olivia looked surprised. “Which one?”

  Emmeline sighed heavily. “Lord Benedict Montagu,” she said slowly, realising as she spoke that it was the first time she had said his name aloud in a very long time. “The tall, dark gentleman.”

  Olivia nodded cautiously. “When you say you were acquainted with him … what exactly do you mean?”

  Emmeline gazed at her sister. This was it. The moment when all would be revealed about why she had reacted the way she had at the assembly. How would Olivia take it?

  She hesitated. She could still lie or back out of it, and Olivia wouldn’t press her. But the need to confide in her sister after what had just happened was so overwhelming that she simply could not fight it any longer.

  “We had an affair,” she whispered, feeling the tears well up again. “A very secret love affair over three years ago.” She hung her head with shame, unable to look at her sister.

  “A secret love affair?” Olivia’s voice was a whisper. “How did I never know of this? How could you have kept it from me?”

  Emmeline blinked back the tears. “It was over six weeks when you were away having a season in London,” she said slowly. “Mama was with you, and there was only Papa and me here. He was off doing his own thing as always, and I was very free …”

  Olivia shook her head in disbelief. “I am sorry, Emme, I am having a hard time believing this,” she said. “It is just so out of character for you. I have never seen you express much interest in gentlemen at all over the years, and you are always so reserved, never wanting to attend social occasions.”

  Emmeline sighed heavily. “Yes, I was shocked by it myself,” she said, her face twisting. “I could not believe that I was doing it.” She hesitated. “But he was so … compelling. We fell head over heels in love very quickly. I was in the middle of it before I even knew it had begun.”

  “You were together for six weeks?” Olivia gazed steadily at her sister. “What did you do with him, Emme?”

  Emmeline blushed violently, feeling the heat of it roaring like a fire over her neck and face. She simply could not look at her sister.

  “It was a love affair, as I explained,” she whispered. “A very intense love affair. We met often, and in private He would throw stones at my bedroom window and then would climb up to meet me in here.” Her voice trailed away.

  Olivia was silent. Emmeline glanced at her quickly. Her sister looked almost embarrassed. Emmeline squirmed on the bed, with mortification. She did not think she had ever felt quite so ashamed in her life. What was her sister thinking?

  “I know that I acted wrongly,” she said in a strangled voice. “I let my feelings for the gentleman overtake my better judgement.” She took a deep breath. “It was as if I were overtaken by madness, Olivia. I cannot explain it any way but that.” She hung her head with shame.

  Olivia sighed. “I have never been in love,” she said in a small voice. “So, I cannot judge what people will do when under its influence at all. The only thing I know about it is what I have read in novels and poetry.” She paused. “But that is enough to know that those feelings can indeed be ferocious.”

  Emmeline smiled slightly. “Yes,” she whispered. “Those feelings are fierce. I felt as if I had been burnt by them in some way. I have never felt anything like it before or since.” Her voice trailed away sadly.

  “What happened?” whispered Olivia, squeezing her hand. “What happened to end those six weeks of love?”

  Emmeline’s heart twisted. She had spent the last three years wondering the same thing. Every night when she went to bed, she asked herself that question. But there were never any answers.