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

by Henrietta Harding

  “They would come around eventually,” said Olivia quickly. “Yes, they might be a little disappointed to start with, but I must believe that they would not wish you to be miserable in your marriage, Emme. That they truly have your well-being at heart when all is said and done.”

  Emmeline stared at her sister, doubtfully. She didn’t think her parents would come around to a broken engagement at all. The only thing it would accomplish would be to make her life at Lambeth House even more of a misery than it currently was. She could almost hear her mother’s daily recriminations, asserting that she had thrown away her only chance.

  “I just don’t want you to do something you shall regret,” continued Olivia, blinking back tears. “I do not want you to rush into this engagement and then realise it was not the right course of action. Let your heart grieve. I beg of you.”

  Emmeline shook her head dismally. “It is done, Liv. You must accept my choice.”

  Olivia was silent for a moment. Then she turned to her sister again.

  “I did not tell you that I talked with Lord Ralph Montagu last evening,” she said slowly. “He asked me some questions, Liv, about the relationship between you and his cousin.”

  Emmeline gazed at her sister curiously. “What did he ask?”

  Olivia frowned. “He wondered why you had changed your mind about Benedict,” she replied slowly. “And then he asked if Lady Henrietta Wynn had anything to do with it.”

  Emmeline’s heart started to race. “Did he indicate why he wished to know?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I was tight-lipped about it all,” she said. “I told him he would have to speak to you. I did not tell him about the blackmail, of course. I would never go against your wishes like that.” She paused. “But he is suspicious of her, Emme. He said he had an intuition that she was involved in some way.”

  “How could he know that?” breathed Emmeline, feeling fright overtaking her. “Did he say if Benedict suspected as well?”

  Olivia shook her head again. “He did not mention him. It was only a feeling he had. How he has linked her with it all, I cannot say.” She hesitated. “But as far as I can tell, he is unaware of the blackmail. He was merely pressing me for information.”

  Emmeline gazed out of the window with troubled eyes. This was an unexpected development. She hardly knew what to make of it at all.

  She started to tremble. It was so very important that Benedict remain unaware of the blackmail. There was no telling what he would do if he found out. And if Lord Ralph Montagu was poking around, seeking information about Lady Henrietta’s role in this … well, there was simply no telling where it could end.

  She exhaled slowly, trying to stem the tide of rising dread. If Ralph Montagu found out about Lady Henrietta’s blackmail, then she must accept it. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

  Hopefully, it would lead nowhere anyway. She was betrothed now and would soon be wed. Perhaps she could press Mr Hardy to arrange a quick wedding. The sooner she was safely married, the better. Once she was wed, she would be safe from scandal. Lady Henrietta would understand once and for all, that she was not a threat any longer. There was no way she could marry Benedict if she already had a ring on her finger from another man.

  And her family would remain blissfully unaware of what she had done in the name of love.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She wished it would all just go away. She wished that she could awaken one morning and find that it was all a nightmare and that she could marry the man she truly loved.

  But that was never going to happen. And she must endeavour to make the best of it … against the odds.

  Chapter 27

  Benedict walked into the house, throwing his gloves and hat upon the hallstand. He had been travelling in a carriage for the entire day over bumpy roads and was unbearably weary. All he wished to do was sit in front of the fire with a stiff whisky.

  He gazed around. Home. He hadn’t been here in months, but it still looked the same. It had looked exactly the same after his lost years in India as well. As if it was somehow suspended in time like a fly stuck in a web.

  His mother, Lady Frances, walked into the foyer, her arms wide. “Benedict! You should have told me you were coming. I would have told cook to prepare something special for dinner.”

  Benedict smiled, embracing her. “There is no need to fuss, Mother. Our business concluded, and I decided to come home on the spur of the moment. How have you been?”

  They walked into the parlour, sitting down to catch up. He learnt that his stepfather was in London to purchase some new horses at auction. Otherwise, things were much the same at Churchill Lodge. After half an hour, his mother rose, saying she needed to attend some duties. She gazed at him with a worried expression on her face.

  “You look terribly weary, Ben,” she said softly. “Why don’t you go up to your room to rest. I can tell the servants to fix a hot bath for you if you like.”

  Benedict stared at her gratefully. “A hot bath sounds perfect, Mother. Thank you.”

  She smiled. “It is the least I can do.” She hesitated. “I just want you to relax and feel at home again, my boy. It is still so wonderful to see you walking through that front door.”

  He smiled at her. “There were times I never thought I would see home again.” He reached out to take her hand. “Nor you. Every day I am grateful.”

  She squeezed his hand, tears in her eyes, for a moment. Then she coughed, drifting out of the room. He heard her calling the servants to prepare his bath.

  He sighed, leaning back into the sofa. It was good to be home even if his heart was still as broken as it had ever been. At least a hot bath and a whisky would clear his mind. He didn’t want to go to sleep yet. Not before he had carefully contemplated everything that Ralph was doing back in Essex.

  They had made a plan. He just wasn’t sure how successful it was going to be.

  ***

  It was only the next afternoon that he received a letter from Ralph. He grinned as the butler handed it to him. His cousin hadn’t wasted any time.

  He broke the wax seal impatiently as he sat down at his desk in the study, sighing heavily as he studied the letter. Ralph’s handwriting was as illegible as it had ever been; penmanship had never been his cousin’s forte. It took him several moments to read it through properly.

  Dear cousin,

  I hope and pray that you had a safe trip back to Churchill Lodge and that you find my Aunt Frances well. Please give her my best regards as always.

  Well, the wheels have been slowly turning. I have put out feelers around the district about Lady Henrietta. Just innocent enquiries to people who are well acquainted with her, seeking more information about the lady. Particularly about her past, as we discussed.

  I am sorry to report that I have not discovered anything of great value yet. Indeed, the lady seems above reproach with a pristine background. This seems odd to me considering her repugnant nature – surely, she has made some enemies along the way? – but I shall press on.

  After all, there must be something we can pin on her. All I have discovered so far is that she was mean to her pets as a child and frightened all her governesses away. Which I am sure you will admit proves her abhorrent nature but is hardly live ammunition.

  At any rate, I have other avenues to explore. I shall update you regularly. We will find something, Ben. Do not lose heart.

  Yours faithfully,

  Ralph

  Benedict folded the letter with a sigh. He should have known that this plan was a long shot, but it was all they could come up with at the time.

  They had discussed it for two days before he had left Derby Hall, delaying his departure. They kept going back and forward with suggestions but getting exactly nowhere. He was so frustrated that he was almost ready to confront Lady Henrietta and be damned when Ralph had suddenly sat up in his chair, looking inspired.

  “What?” he had growled at his cousin. He hadn’t slept well the night before,
which had left him short-tempered on top of everything else.

  Ralph banged a fist on the armrest. “I cannot believe I did not think of it before!”

  Benedict’s heart quickened. “Tell me.”

  Ralph took a short sharp breath. “Why don’t we give Lady Henrietta a taste of her own medicine?”

  Benedict smiled slowly. “Counter blackmail?”

  Ralph nodded. “Blackmail is a dirty business, to be sure, but the gloves are well and truly off in this fight,” he mused. “I have no scruples about digging up dirt on the lady if you do not.”

  Benedict’s smile widened. “Believe me, I have no scruples where Lady Henrietta Wynn is concerned. Go on.”

  Ralph shrugged. “I suppose we just start making discreet enquiries,” he said slowly. “See what we can find out about her. Everyone has some kind of skeleton rattling around in their closet. It is just whether it is a large or small one.”

  Benedict frowned. “What if there is nothing in her background that we could use?”

  Ralph sighed. “Well, we will not know if we do not try. It is the best thing I can think of. What do you say?”

  Benedict had pondered it carefully. Ralph was right. They had been going around in circles trying to think of ways to stop Lady Henrietta blackmailing Emmeline but come up with nothing. This was at least a tentative plan.

  After much soul-searching, he had decided he would still return home. Ralph had assured him that he could handle the enquiries and even told him that Benedict would be in the way if he stayed. He could accomplish much more on his own. Benedict was too involved in it all, too close; he might sabotage proceedings by losing his temper. Ralph, in contrast, was removed from the epicentre of it and could keep an impartial mind.

  He had received an assurance from Ralph that he would keep him up to date on the search. His cousin would write to him regularly with updates. Besides, he needed to go home for a while. His mother was fretting about him still, sending letters to Derby Hall asking when he was returning home. She had been like it ever since he had returned from India; it was as if she was scared of losing contact with him even for a short while and had to see him in the flesh.

  He knew that he could think clearer at home, as well. He would not be in danger of running into Emmeline or Lady Henrietta at a social event, thus clouding his thinking or making him lose his temper. At home, he could consider everything at a safe distance. At least that was how he had felt when leaving Derby Hall.

  Benedict stared at the letter in his hand, trying not to let frustration overwhelm him. It didn’t feel like he had made the right decision now. Perhaps he should have stayed at Derby Hall. He felt suddenly helpless, out of the action, so far away. This was his life, after all. His potential life with Emmeline hanging in the balance.

  My love, he thought, his heart aching. My one and only love.

  He sat back in the chair, placing the letter on the desk, feeling as low as he had ever felt. Emmeline was alone dealing with this terrible situation. How was she coping?

  Tears filled his eyes. He had believed that she had suddenly changed her mind about him because she could no longer trust him, but it had never been that. She had intended to accept his proposal. It was Lady Henrietta who had reared up like a creature from the depths of the ocean, disrupting all their plans.

  His heart twisted. He had caused this. If only he had realised how much he still loved and needed her on arriving back in England. How could he not have trusted their love? How could he have ever doubted that she was the one and only woman for him and that he could give her the love she deserved?

  He knew the answer, of course. His mind had been in turmoil after India. He had not been able even to trust himself. He had been second-guessing himself at every turn. But even knowing the reason why, it still rankled. He had deliberately flirted with another woman, encouraging her to think he admired her. He just hadn’t realised quite how earnestly that lady would take his attentions or how serious the consequences.

  And Emmeline was paying the price for it.

  He could guess why she had decided not to tell him about the blackmail. She thought he might confront the lady, causing her to act rashly and cause a scandal. Emmeline had to be very careful about it indeed, for Benedict knew that if a scandal emerged – if their affair was exposed – she would bear the brunt of it. It was always the way for the woman. He would be congratulated for sowing his wild oats while she would be branded a whore. Her reputation would be ruined. And quite conceivably, her parents might disown her outright.

  Emmeline had everything to lose. No wonder she had taken the entire burden of this upon herself. His heart ached for her.

  Abruptly, he stood up. It was almost time for dinner. Nothing more could be accomplished today. He gazed at the letter on the desk as sour disappointment flooded through him. He had been so hoping that Ralph might have found out something about the lady, something that would give them leverage against her and stop this madness once and for all.

  Patience, he thought, taking a deep breath. Ralph is methodical and systematic. He will leave no stone unturned. It might take a while, but he will find something eventually.

  He smiled as he thought about his cousin. The fact that Ralph had managed to discover this all on a hunch about Lady Henrietta. Benedict had been moping, refusing to fight for Emmeline, but his cousin had worked quietly in the background, never giving up.

  His heart lurched. Ralph was one in a million. He didn’t know how he was ever going to repay his cousin for what he had done on his behalf and what he was still doing. Perhaps he would never be able to.

  But suddenly he realised that maybe he didn’t need to. Ralph had always expressed guilt over what had happened in India, the fact Benedict had risked his life for him and paid with years of imprisonment. Perhaps this was his cousin’s way of making amends, after all.

  He headed out the door towards the dining hall. He could only hope and pray that Ralph’s efforts were not in vain, that they could get Lady Henrietta to retreat and fade blessedly into the background. And he could finally claim Emmeline like he always should have.

  Chapter 28

  Emmeline jumped in fright as her chamber door opened. Maisie, her maid, stood there holding a rose coloured silk gown. The maid was beaming.

  “Oh, it just arrived, miss,” breathed the maid, holding the gown up for her to admire. “It is so very beautiful! You shall look a treat for your engagement party, so you will!”

  Emmeline smiled weakly, glancing at the dress. It was indeed as beautiful as Maisie said. A shimmering dream of a gown, skilfully made and embroidered, from a fashion plate straight out of the pages of a fashionable lady’s magazine. Miss Timmons, the dressmaker, had assured Mama that the style was what all the grand society ladies in London were wearing at the moment. It had cost her parents a small fortune to have it made so quickly.

  Maisie waited, gazing at Emmeline. She was obviously expecting a more effusive reaction to the arrival of the dress.

  “It is lovely,” said Emmeline, taking a deep breath. “Please hang it in the closet, Maisie.”

  Maisie nodded, looking disappointed. The gown was duly hung in the closet. The maid hesitated for a moment. “Do you need anything, miss?”

  Emmeline shook her head. “No. I just desire solitude. Please tell my mother that I shall be down within twenty minutes to discuss the table settings for this evening.”

  The maid curtseyed. “Very good, miss.”

  Maisie withdrew, and Emmeline let out a sigh of relief. Her stomach was churning even worse now with the arrival of the gown. Somehow, it made everything real. This truly was the day when her engagement would be announced publicly. After this evening, all of society would know she was betrothed to Mr Lewis Hardy.