The Spice Bride (The Emberton Brothers Series Book 1)

by Karen Aminadra

  “Of course,” his mother replied with poise and elegance. She rose and, at her prompt, Grace also rose. Edwina led them both out of the dining room and towards the drawing room.

  “Port, anyone?” Richard asked nonchalantly, ignoring the weighted stare from Edward. He knew he had dismissed the ladies abruptly and impolitely. It mattered not to him if he had displayed bad manners; his only goal in doing so was to remove Grace from Edward’s presence. He glared back at his new rival as though challenging him to dare say a single word. Richard did not know where this anger rose from. He was well aware that its foundation was in jealousy and just as aware that it was unjustified. Nonetheless, he was beginning to wish his brother had never left London.

  Once the butler had made his way around the table, pouring glasses of port and distributing cigars, Richard dismissed him.

  “Well, what a pleasant evening this is,” chimed Mr Hayward in, entirely oblivious to the tension newly arisen between the brothers.

  “Indeed,” Edward turned to Mr Hayward. “I must say, Mr Hayward, your daughter is a most accomplished and well-informed young lady.”

  Richard gripped the arm of his chair so hard the wood creaked in protest.

  “Why, thank you very much, Mr Emberton. I appreciate your saying so.” Mr Hayward puffed on his cigar. “I am sure you can appreciate that it has been difficult to bring up a young girl without a wife.”

  “Yes, I can imagine.”

  “Of course, there were plenty of women around in India who could take care of her. I have an excellent housekeeper, and Grace always had an English governess. However, I took the hard decision to be parted from her three years ago when I sent her back here to finishing school.”

  “She went to Longwood, did she not?”

  “Yes, she did. It is a small but fine academy for young ladies. The headmistress there, a Miss Noakes, is a woman of remarkable character and knowledge. She is quite a model for those young ladies, I can tell you.”

  “Some of the men in Parliament speak especially highly of her academy and of Miss Noakes herself. I believe some of their daughters attend also.”

  Mr Hayward turned in his chair, greatly interested. “Oh, is that so!”

  “Yes, it is. However, I cannot reveal to you whose daughters attend Longwood Academy, you understand.”

  “Yes,” Mr Hayward chuckled, “I completely understand.” He turned his attention to Richard, who found it incredibly difficult to bite his tongue and not scowl. “She had a particularly close companion there at Longwood, a young lady by the name of Eliza Jones. I believe she misses her very much.”

  “Eliza Jones?” was all Richard managed to say in response.

  “Yes, if I am not wrong. I believe she is relocated to Manchester, where she is marrying some industrialist or other—Phillips, I believe. If I might make a suggestion…” Mr Hayward leant forward across the table.

  Richard gripped the arm of the chair again, this time he heard something splinter. “By all means.”

  “It may be advantageous to allow Grace to invite Eliza to come and stay. I understand it is none of my business and that who comes to your home and who does not is entirely at your discretion, Richard, but the two ladies were as two peas in a pod, as they say. Grace, I know, misses her greatly.”

  “Then I will do everything I can to ensure that Miss Jones comes to Emberton Hall to visit with Grace. As her husband, it would be my pleasure to make Grace as happy as I possibly can do.” He shot a warning glare at Edward as he emphasised the words her husband.

  “And I would expect nothing less of you, Richard. You have exceeded all my expectations. You are, if I may say so, an exemplary young man. I can return to India safe in the knowledge that my Grace, my only child, is well cared for and will be well looked after.” He splayed his arms out expressing his admiration for Emberton Hall. “She will be extremely happy in such an elegant and fine home as this.” Mr Hayward raised his glass to Richard. “May the new Mr and Mrs Richard Emberton be blessed beyond all measure.”

  Richard was quick to accept the toast and agree. “Thank you. I am sure we will be.” He took a mouthful of the port and swallowed hard. He stared at his brother Edward.

  “Hear! Hear!” Edward smiled disarmingly, but his charm had no effect on Richard. “We’re not accustomed to having young ladies here, as we are a family of all boys,” as he turned to Mr Hayward, “but I can assure you that my mother will do everything to remind us that Grace needs particular things as a young lady, the kind of things that we would, perhaps, overlook—lace, jewels, flowers, those sorts of things.” Edward chuckled.

  Mr Hayward laughed. “Yes, it took me quite a while to realise that Grace needed those things in her life too.”

  Richard stared across the table at his brother as he continued to converse about his bride-to-be with her father. His anger increased. He would have strong words with Edward before the night was through.

  * * * *

  When the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room sometime later, Richard watched, with his temper nearing boiling point, as Edward made a direct beeline for Grace. He tried to calm himself down as much as he could by joining his mother and Mr Hayward. They were discussing some plans Mr Hayward had of expanding his plantation, something that should have interested him greatly. Richard listened abstractly, his attention focused on Grace and his brother.

  He scrutinised their behaviour. He could not hear what they were saying, but he could see how they gestured and moved towards each other. Occasionally, Edward leant towards Grace conspiratorially, and then she would turn and giggle into her hand. Whatever the conversation was, it was highly entertaining for her. “Much more entertaining than I!” fumed Richard.

  The minutes seemed like hours, the hours like days. Richard did not know where this jealousy came from. It seemed to arrive fully fledged and filled with anger. By the time the ladies stood and bade good night to them all, Richard was feeling murderous. Thankfully for him, or unfortunately for Edward, Mr Hayward decided to retire at that moment too. He escorted the ladies from the room, and Richard waited until the three of them were out of earshot before he turned on his brother.

  “What do you think you’re playing at?” he asked quietly with a dangerous edge to his voice.

  Edward looked at him confused. He paused in the middle of pouring them both a glass of whisky. “What you mean?”

  “By behaving like that with Grace,” Richard growled.

  “Behaving like what?” Edward looked at his brother as though he was out of his mind. He handed Richard the glass of whisky calmly and went back to the settee by the fireside.

  Richard raised his voice a little, “You know very well of what I’m talking, brother.”

  Edward drank before replying. “No, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Richard. Clearly, something has irritated you. Pray, enlighten me and let’s stop beating about the bush.”

  “Oh, I have gone way beyond irritated, Edward.”

  “About what?”

  “Let me make this crystal clear to you, Edward,” Richard growled. “Grace Hayward is to be my wife, not yours, so you can damn well keep away from her. Do you understand?”

  Clearly confused and taken aback, Edward could do no more than to repeat, “What?”

  “Do you think I am some kind of imbecile? Talking to her all night long, leaning towards her suggestively. You don’t fool me!”

  “I beg your pardon, but the young lady is interested in my work. I merely conversed with her about that.” Edward moved to the edge of the settee, clearly annoyed by his brother’s insinuation.

  “She ought to be talking to me! You ought to be pointing her to speak to me!” Richard’s jealousy knew no bounds; it fuelled his anger to the spitting point.

  They rose together and Edward stood nose to nose with his brother. “Then you, Richard, ought to have spoken to her yourself. I am not your nursemaid. I should not need to aid you in conversing with anyone.”r />
  Richard was speechless. A flicker of doubt began to grow. He believed himself to be entirely in the right, that there was no question of Edward’s encroaching on his territory. Could he be wrong?

  “Grace Hayward is to be my sister. I was talking to her innocently. I have no designs upon her myself, brother. If you want to talk to her, and if you wish to keep her all to yourself, then it is you who must engage her in conversation rather than sitting there scowling at everyone all night long!” Edward stepped back and looked with disdain his brother. “Miss Hayward is very knowledgeable on a whole range of subjects, but you would not know that, would you, Richard? Because you have never seen her as anything more than a commodity, despite your protestations to the contrary. It’s about time you saw what a lovely and intelligent creature she really is!”

  “How dare you!” Richard’s fury was back tenfold.

  Edward turned his back on his brother and walked towards the French doors. He opened them and stepped out onto the paved patio, down the stone steps, and into the garden.

  Richard hotly followed close behind. “I’m talking to you, damn it!” Richard spat. He reached out, took hold of his brother by the shoulder, and spun around to face him.

  Edward found something amusing in that action and laughed in his brother’s face. “What are you going to do, Richard? Hit me?”

  “I want you to promise to stay well away from Grace.”

  “I will do no such thing. She will be my sister-in-law, and if she wishes to converse with me, if she wishes to spend time with me, I will oblige her with or without your permission, Richard.”

  Richard saw red. Within the blink of an eye, he balled his right hand into a fist and launched it at his brother’s jaw. It landed with a sickening sound, knocking Edward off balance and into the bushes behind him.

  “What in blazes?” Edward put his hand to his jaw. “You hit me!”

  “Yes, and I will do it again if you do not stay away from Grace,” Richard breathed heavily.

  “As I said, I will do no such thing,” Edward said as he climbed to his feet.

  Before his brother realised it, Richard launched himself upon his foe, pummelling with both fists in his face, in his chest, in his stomach, anywhere within reach. Edward rolled to his left to avoid the blows, but Richard was faster and was on him again in an instant. This time Edward fought back, and Richard caught a punch to the nose, sending him reeling onto his back. He reached up to see if it was bleeding. It was.

  His anger white-hot now, he leapt on his brother. They rolled over and over in the garden pushing, fighting, punching, kicking each other until they reached the edge of the water fountain in the centre of the Elizabethan garden. Richard grabbed hold of his brother’s collar and, in his anger, lifted him clear off the ground and thrust his head under the water and held him there as Edward struggled to free himself. With dawning horror of what he was doing, Richard yanked his brother from the water, tossing him to the ground.

  “You’ve grown stronger, brother,” Edward panted. “There was a time I could easily beat you.”

  “Not anymore.” Richard fought to catch his breath.

  “What happened?” Edward asked, leaning on one elbow while pushing his wet hair out of his face, chest still heaving.

  “Grace.” Richard looked at the younger man sprawled on the ground, soaked to the skin.

  “She is yours and yours alone.” Edward sat up and stared meaningfully at his brother. “You do realise that I will have to marry a woman who can elevate me in political circles, do you not?”

  Richard looked blankly at his brother.

  “As I said, Grace is yours. I have no designs on her as she can be of no help to me.”

  The relief rushed through Richard’s body, taking him by surprise. He scrambled to his feet, and offered Edward a hand to help him to his feet. “Sorry,” he said abashedly.

  Edward took the proffered hand and, instead of pulling himself up with it, pulled Richard down onto the ground where he landed in a heap. “As you jolly well should be.”

  The brothers burst into raucous laughter.

  Chapter Ten

  Grace found herself sitting with Edwina the next morning after breakfast in the sunroom, looking through an old trunk the servants brought down from the attic.

  With a satisfied smile, Edwina opened it and revealed its contents. “There, what do you think of that?”

  Grace was astounded. The chest contained many things that Edwina had collected before her marriage to Richard Louis Emberton. Lace so pretty—Grace had never seen its like before—the most beautiful gloves, and a parasol so delicate she dared not touch it.

  “I would like, with your permission, to give this to you as a wedding gift.” Edwina knelt down on the floor in front of the trunk and beckoned Grace to do the same beside her. “This lace would make an elegant veil to go with the beautiful bonnet we talked about. Which reminds me, my dear,” she reached out and patted Grace’s hand, “the haberdasher will arrive this afternoon at one o’clock. Then the dressmaker will be here at three o’clock to make any alterations to one of your dresses.” She smiled kindly, and Grace found herself wishing she had known her own mother.

  Never before in her life had Grace wanted her mother by her side more than she did at that moment. Margaret Hayward had died of a fever when Grace was only five years old, too young to have a clear memory of her mother.

  Grace nodded her understanding, gratitude showing in her eyes, but could not find the words to thank her future mother-in-law.

  “You see,” Edwina returned her attention to the lace, “it is handmade.” She ran her fingers underneath the material showing it to Grace. “Is it not exquisite?”

  “Indeed, it is beautiful work.”

  “Now, if you do not mind, my dear, I have something else I wish to give to you.” Grace watched as the older woman took in a deep breath and reached deep into the chest and removed what appeared to be material wrapped in brown paper. She gasped as Edwina unveiled what the paper contained. “Yes,” she smiled, “it is beautiful, is it not.”

  Tentatively, Grace reached out and stroked the finest golden brocade silk she had ever seen.

  “I knew you would like it. In my day,” Edwina shook her head and laughed at the words she spoke, “I suppose it is still my day. I am alive after all, am I not?”

  Grace giggled and found herself warming to Edwina even more.

  “Well, when I got married, many years ago, this material was the height of fashion. I still have the dress I wore at my wedding, packed away in the attic. However, I cannot give that to you. I believe that would not be fair to you to wear someone else’s wedding dress. You deserve the best. You deserve your own gown.” She reached out and gently stroked Grace’s chin with her hand. “But I can give you the next best thing, this material. Such splendid silk. It was a wedding gift, not nearly enough for the fashion of the day, and I never had a daughter. I planned to make pretty little dresses for daughters of my own. However, alas, that did not happen. Though God has been kind to me and is now giving me my own daughter.”

  Grace looked down into her lap. She could not believe her ears. Edwina’s words touched her heart and brought the edge of tears. How could a woman who barely knew her say such things and class her as a daughter?

  “So it would be my great pleasure to pass this on to you. Thankfully, the modern fashions are of a style that you do not need much material. The A-line Grecian fashion is so very elegant and flattering to the figure and, I might add, the simplicity will enhance the beauty of the silk in a way the older fashions could not. Can you imagine such a gown?”

  Grace opened her mouth to a perfect O-shape and shook her head. “I confess I cannot.” She reached out and gently traced one of the fine golden threads with her forefinger. “Is it not too late to have a new dress made?”

  “There are two days remaining before the wedding,” Edwina smiled and lowered her voice as though confiding a deep secret to her, “and you w
ill be amazed by what money and influence can accomplish.” She handed the brocade silk to Grace and stood up. “Now I have to attend to my duties, but I will leave you to explore the contents of this trunk. They are yours now, my daughter,” Edwina said warmly, making her way to the door.

  Grace felt as if her heart would explode. Just as the older woman reached the doorway, Richard appeared in it. Grace watched as Edwina reached out, patted her son on the arm and a flicker of relief crossed his face. There was something about the action the caused her a moment’s unrest. There was something she could not put her finger on that made her feel that all that had passed in the last few minutes was merely staged, and with that minor exchange with her son, Edwina undid all of the good work she had just achieved with Grace.

  Grace looked down at the material in her hands. It was truly beautiful and she was truly honoured to have it and to be able to wear it on her wedding day. She couldn’t help wonder if all of these things were part of a plan to convince her that everything would be fine, that she would live a perfect fairy tale life at Emberton Hall, that she was not just a piece of a business transaction.

  “Now, that is stunningly beautiful material,” Richard said.

  “Yes, it is.” Grace replied. “Your mother said I could have a wedding dress made from it.”

  “And you will look lovely in it.” Richard stepped forward and knelt down beside her. Grace did not look up at him. “It is customary to have a new dress made, if you can, for your wedding.”

  “Yes. Yes it is. I…wonder why.”

  Richard bent his head so that he could see her face so downcast. “Why what?”

  “Why your mother would give it to me,” she said in a small voice.

  “Grace, you are to be her daughter. Is it not obvious?”

  “Not to me, it isn’t.” She looked up at him and gasped. Surrounding his left eye, there was a slight circle of red and purple. “What happened to your eye?”