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

by Henrietta Harding

  Emmeline forced a smile onto her face. “I do know, My Lord.” She paused, gathering her courage again. “But I have had a change of heart on the matter we discussed. I no longer wish you to seek an audience with my father.”

  Her words hung in the air. Olivia stared awkwardly down at her feet, while Benedict’s mouth fell open in shock. He gazed beseechingly at Emmeline.

  “I do not understand,” he spluttered. “It was all agreed upon between us, Emmeline.”

  She nodded. “Please accept my apology, My Lord,” she said slowly, her heart beating like a drum in her chest. “I know that we agreed to it. But I must implore you to take me seriously. I cannot marry you now, and I am afraid I shall never be able to marry you.”

  He looked so astonished and grief-stricken that she almost recanted. It was as if a knife was being driven into her heart.

  “Emmeline,” he faltered.

  He stared at Olivia. “Do you think I could have a moment alone with your sister, madam?”

  Olivia jumped in her seat, gazing quickly at Emmeline, who shook her head slightly. She turned to Benedict, gazing at him imploringly.

  “Sir,” she said in a trembling voice. “My sister is here to chaperone your visit with me. I do not wish her to leave the room.” She hesitated. “Please, will you accept what I say? I have thought deeply about it in the days since we last saw each other and find that I cannot marry you any longer. I am sorry.”

  He paled. “Emmeline, I do not understand,” he stammered. “What has changed between us in those few days? We are in love. I thought that we had worked out all our differences. All that had kept us apart from each other for so long.”

  Olivia looked embarrassed as if she desperately wanted to leave the room. Emmeline felt sorry that her sister had to witness this but knew it was the safest course of action. If they were alone, there was no telling what lengths Benedict would resort to in order to convince her to marry him. With Olivia here, there was an invisible line that could not be crossed.

  She didn’t want to do this to him. Not like this. It was mortifying for him to learn she had changed her mind in such a way … with a witness. But the fact was it also served her purpose well in another way. If he thought she was cold and heartless enough to deliver this news to him with her sister in the room, then perhaps he would be convinced she was deadly serious about it.

  She took a deep breath, putting down her teacup. “My Lord, I was serious when I said that I wished us to resume our relationship,” she said quietly. “But I was swept away at the time. I have since had time for quiet reflection. I believe that we are simply not suited for marriage. Not all people are, even if they are fond of each other.”

  “Fond?” he scoffed, staring at her intently. “We are more than fond of each other, Emmeline. I love you with my whole heart. Just as I thought you loved me.” His voice caught in his throat.

  Abruptly, she stood up. She couldn’t do this any longer; she simply could not watch him appeal to her in this heartbreaking manner. She could feel her resolve ebbing away and could not afford for that to happen. She was saving them both from scandal. If only she could tell him that.

  But she could not. She knew what he would do if he found out about Lady Henrietta’s blackmail. He would insist on confronting the lady and demand that she stop. Emmeline knew that it wouldn’t work. Lady Henrietta would simply dig in her heels harder; there was no way that she could be persuaded to change her mind. And then the risk that the lady would blurt it out to her parents – and conceivably to the whole of society – became a real possibility.

  No, it was better this way. Better that he thought her heartless and fickle. Perhaps he would begin to despise her, and that would be good. It would mean that he might be able to recover and love again. Perhaps he might finally let her go.

  If he knew about Lady Henrietta’s blackmail, it would be a messier business. He would pine for her. It would break his heart in a more jagged way. At least this was clean-cut: swift, fast, and brutal.

  “I must bid you good day, My Lord,” she said, raising her chin. “We have said all we need to say to each other. I think I have expressed my feelings on the matter clearly. I trust you are in no doubt about how I feel.”

  He stood up. “I hardly know what to think,” he said, his voice filled with pain. “I do not understand any of it. But I shall respect your wishes, Emmeline. Just know that I will always be here for you.”

  She forced a smile onto her face. The pain was so intense she thought she might faint. Masking it was becoming harder by the second. With an almighty effort, she gazed at him steadily.

  “Thank you for your visit,” she said slowly. “My sister shall see you out.”

  Without another word, she walked quickly from the room. She didn’t look back.

  In her chambers, she gazed out the window. He was walking to his horse with a devastated look on his face. Suddenly, he glanced up at the window, and she retreated hastily, dropping the curtains, but it was too late. He had seen her.

  Her heart was thumping sickeningly in her chest. Slowly, she staggered across the room, falling into the chair in front of her dressing table.

  It was done. It had been as awful as she had anticipated, but at least it was over. There would be no scandal. She had averted the threat. Her parents would never know about their affair. They would never know their daughter had acted like a scarlet woman with a gentleman who had deserted her for years afterwards.

  And now she must live with the consequences. For the rest of her life.

  My love, she thought fiercely. My one and only love.

  The pain was unbearable. Thinking about his distraught face filled her with anguish. He would hate her now, and she didn’t blame him. He had finally opened up to her, telling her about what had happened to him in India, and she had seemingly betrayed that confidence.

  She doubled over in pain, clutching her chest. He would probably leave the district for good now. And then what would happen to all of Lady Henrietta’s grand plans?

  Olivia was right; despite her words, the lady must know she had little chance of becoming Lady Montagu now. No, it had all been done out of spite. If Lady Henrietta couldn’t have him … then neither could Emmeline.

  Chapter 23

  Benedict tore into Derby Hall, not even bothering to close the front door behind him. He was so distraught he could barely think straight. The ride back from Lambeth House had been a blur.

  “Sir?” Brady, the butler, stared at him incredulously as he strode across the foyer. “Is everything quite well?”

  Benedict didn’t answer. Taking the stairs two at a time, he finally reached his chambers. He couldn’t help himself. He slammed the door behind him, the painting on the wall next to the door shaking with the sound.

  He sank onto the bed, placing his head in his hands.

  Why? Why has she done this?

  None of it made any sense. It was only days ago that they had farewelled each other at the Vickers house. He had promised to give her time to talk privately to her family about what was happening between them. She had appeared as committed to him as he was to her. He had penned a short note yesterday telling her when he was calling on Lambeth House to ask for her father’s permission to marry her. She had not written back telling him anything had changed between them.

  And yet, it had. In that short time, she had utterly changed her mind about him.

  His mind reeled, trying to grasp it. She had let him make love to her in the Vickers’ garden. She had trembled in his arms, gazing at him with fierce love, telling him that she was his forever. He had been radiant with joy. After all the pain, after all the heartache, they had finally found their way back to each other.

  But it was all a lie.

  He took off one of his riding boots, throwing it across the room. He couldn’t understand it at all. She hadn’t even given him the courtesy of telling him about her change of heart privately. Instead, her sister had sat there witnessing the painful
exchange. She had acted as if he was merely an acquaintance she must discourage as quickly as possible.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Go away,” he growled.

  But the door opened anyway.

  Ralph was standing there, gazing at him in bewilderment. “What on earth is wrong, old chap? Brady said you tore like the Devil into the house. The man was sure you were about to throttle him.”

  “I almost did,” he snarled, taking off his other boot and hurling it in the same direction as the first. Ralph ducked as it narrowly missed him.

  “Oh, dear.” Ralph closed the door firmly behind him. “There is trouble in paradise, I fear.”

  Benedict’s rage suddenly drained away. “There is no paradise, cousin. There never was one.”

  Ralph walked slowly into the room, standing at the window. He gazed back at Benedict. “Do you want to tell me exactly what is going on?”

  Benedict was silent for a moment. “I will tell you,” he said wearily. “I just went to Lambeth House intending to ask for Emmeline’s hand in marriage.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Instead, I was told by the lady that she has suddenly changed her mind and does not wish to marry me at all.”

  “What?” Ralph stared at him, doubtfully. “Why?”

  Benedict shrugged, feeling bitterness corroding his blood. “She could not really say. It was all very polite and civilised. Her sister was in the room with us listening to the exchange, which did not help the matter.” He paused. “She merely said that she thought we were not suited for marriage. She could not explain it any further.”

  “I do not understand,” said Ralph, frowning. “You told me all was resolved between the two of you. That she confessed she still loved you as much as you love her.”

  Benedict grimaced. “Well, that is what she said at the time. But apparently, the lady has had a change of heart since, and I must simply fall into line.”

  Ralph looked pensive. “Are you quite certain she was rejecting you outright? Perhaps she was only saying that she needed some time.”

  Benedict shook his head. “No, she was quite adamant on the matter. She apologised but stated firmly that she had changed her mind. She does not wish to marry me – not now and not ever. End of subject.”

  “That is a low blow indeed,” muttered Ralph, shaking his head. “After all that you have gone through to get to the point of declaring your love for her again. After all that anguish.”

  Benedict stood up, walking to a small table in the corner of the room. He poured himself a large measure of whisky. “Would you like one?”

  Ralph shook his head. “A bit early in the day for me, old chap. But go ahead.”

  Benedict didn’t need any further encouragement. He downed the drink in one short sharp gulp, feeling it hit his bloodstream like fire.

  “I have only myself to blame,” he said eventually, pouring himself another drink. “All of it is my own fault.”

  Ralph stared at him but did not reply.

  “I waited too long,” he continued bitterly. “It took me too damn long to realise that I still am capable of loving her the way she deserves. She must have thought about it and decided I was not worth the risk. That perhaps I am capricious in my affections and might desert her once more.”

  “You never meant to do that,” said Ralph quietly. “You explained all that to her. She must appreciate by now that it was all out of your control.”

  Benedict shrugged, sipping his whisky. “Perhaps she does not believe me still,” he said slowly. “Perhaps she thinks it just a story. An excuse. How do I know?”

  Ralph looked grim. “I will talk to her. I will tell her that it is all true.”

  “You will do no such thing.” Benedict’s voice was firm. “I do not want you to get involved in this, Ralph. It is already a shambolic enough business as it is.”

  “But you cannot just give up,” asserted Ralph, frowning. “She is the love of your life. She is worth fighting for, Ben. And if I can contribute to you winning her back, then I am more than happy to do it.”

  Benedict shook his head. “No. She was adamant, and I must respect her wishes.” He sighed deeply. “There is obviously too much water under the bridge between us. The love is still there, but the trust has gone. That is why she has made her decision.”

  Ralph looked indignant. “So … you are just going to walk away? Give up?”

  Benedict cursed underneath his breath, fumbling with the glass in his hand. Ralph didn’t understand at all. He thought it was simply a matter of persistence; if he persevered, Emmeline would come around again. But it was far more complex a matter than that.

  It was about trust. And trust was a fragile thing that must be slowly built. Emmeline’s trust in him had been broken. She claimed she understood that he had not chosen to desert her, but she still felt betrayed. She had contemplated it and decided she could not trust him again. She could not risk the chance that she might feel such pain again.

  “It is over,” he said bleakly. “Our business matters conclude tomorrow. I shall ride home directly.”

  Ralph shook his head. “No, old chap. The business matters might be concluding for the moment, but there is still the annual ball this Friday. Father will be very upset if you abruptly leave before it.”

  “Damnation,” whispered Benedict. He had forgotten all about the ball at Derby Hall this weekend.

  Uncle Richard was almost a recluse in the district since he had become infirm, rarely going anywhere to socialise. But he still insisted that the annual ball held at Derby Hall for so many years go ahead. It was a tradition established by his late wife, Ralph’s mother, the Lady Eliza. It was important to Uncle Richard to keep it going in her memory.

  It was always a grand affair. His uncle spent considerable money upon it. And the crème de la crème of local society attended. Ralph was right – his uncle would be bitterly disappointed in him if he left without attending it, especially as he was already in residence. It would look like a deliberate snub.

  He turned to his cousin. “I suppose I must stay for it, then. But I shall be riding home the very next day.” His heart twisted. “There is no point me staying here any longer, Ralph. It shall wound me anew to keep bumping into Emmeline. You do understand, do you not?”

  Ralph nodded. “Of course, I understand. But that is, if you are convinced all is lost between the two of you. If you have even a sliver of doubt.”

  Benedict shook his head. “No. It is done. She has made her choice.” His heart flipped over in his chest. “There was only a very slim chance that I would win her back, Ralph, after all that has happened between us. That chance has fled now. Perhaps it is for the best, after all.”

  Ralph gazed at him. He didn’t look convinced.

  “I have enjoyed my time at Derby Hall with you,” continued Benedict. “I am so very glad that we were able to connect again and resolve what happened in India. Some good has come of the visit at least.”

  Ralph sighed heavily. “I am sorry I was distant with you when you first arrived,” he said slowly. “My head was all over the place, my friend.” He paused. “And thank you for taking the time to be my companion while I have dashed all over the countryside from one social engagement to the next. I know that you did not enjoy it, but I needed to do it.”

  Benedict nodded, gazing at his cousin fondly. “I know you needed to. It was your way of working out those demons in your head. That was why I was happy to accompany you.” He hesitated. “India is finally gone, Ralph. I hope you can see that and learn to live again.”

  Ralph coloured, looking down at his feet. “I am learning to live again. And there might even be love on the horizon.”