The Rejected Suitor (The Clearbrooks)

by Teresa McCarthy

  When Emily looked up to find her brother and the earl barreling in her direction, her pulse skittered alarmingly. The gaggle of surrounding ladies erupted into low murmurs once again. Emily glanced back at the smiling but odious man in front of her and felt a pang of regret for what was about to happen to him. He was an insufferable pain, but he did not deserve both men at once.

  "Mr. Fennington," she said, touching his arm.

  He bowed to her, flashing a set of white teeth her way. "Your slightest wish is my command, my lady. Just one word from those ruby red lips and I am yours forever."

  What a peagoose! How could she ever have thought of wedding such a popinjay?

  "Mr. Fennington, I do implore you, if you have the slightest wish to see the sun rise tomorrow, I suggest you exit by the back door before my brother kills you."

  Fennington laughed. "His Grace is only jesting, my dear lady. He would never—"

  Emily grabbed the man's arm. "He would never give you another chance. Please, he is only ten feet from your back.

  Fennington turned as white as the lace behind him. "Eh, ten feet, you say?"

  "Five feet," she replied as she pushed Fennington aside. "Stop, Roderick! I beg you, do not harm him."

  Boxes and buttons rolled and thumped onto the floor as Fennington escaped through the back door. To her shock, it was not Roderick, but Lord Stonebridge who was but a step away from her brother, glaring at her.

  "What the devil do you think you are doing with that conniving snake?" he snapped.

  Roderick obviously decided not to pursue the gentleman and, instead, stared at his friend. "I appreciate your concern, Jared, but I will see to my own affairs."

  "This is my affair," he growled.

  Roderick grimaced as he took in Jane's amused expression. "Indeed, your ward seems to be rather fond of Fennington herself."

  Jane's blue eyes narrowed on the duke. "How would you recognize any fondness at all, Your Grace. It seems to me that your heart is as cold as your kiss."

  Surprised, Emily stared back at her friend. Kiss?

  "My kiss, madam, is not cold."

  Emily watched in fascination as Jane and Roderick went back and forth muttering snide remarks. But it was Jared who finally pulled Jane from the pressing crowd, back through the bolts of muslin and silk to the front door. Roderick followed, towing Emily past the buttons and lace, clattering everything in their path.

  Voices whispered as the foursome finally retreated from the shop. After the door jingled, announcing their departure, the gossip about the Earl of Stonebridge, the Duke of Elbourne, Miss Jane Greenwell, and Lady Emily began.

  However, in the small dressing room, off to the side, a certain Miss Susan Wimble stood, glaring into the looking glass, her eyes glazed over with hatred. She slipped off her wedding gown and turned to her maid.

  "Find out everything you know about that dark-haired lady speaking to Stonebridge, do you hear? I will not have the chit taking my place! I will be a countess before the Season is out, and no one is going to upset my plans!"

  Outside the shop, Jared dropped Jane's hand and scowled. "I am dismayed at your manners, Jane. What is going on between the two of you?" He glared at the duke.

  Jane looked up with tears glistening in her eyes. "I did nothing to offend you, Cousin Jared. It was his fault." She, too, glared at the duke.

  Roderick frowned back, his eyes darkening.

  Before Jared could obtain an explanation, Jane flew into the duchess's carriage with a heartfelt sob.

  Emily glared at Jared, then at Roderick. "I cannot believe you would speak to Jane like that. It was not well done of either of you."

  Roderick's expression was cold and tight with strain. "You, little sister, have no right to tell me what is well done and what is not. Fennington was to stay away from you, and here I find the man slobbering all over you . . . and Miss Greenwell."

  "Good gracious, the man followed me into the shop, but I have not set my cap for him, if that is what you think. Besides, it was nothing but a chaste kiss on the hand."

  Jared stepped between the two. "I beg to differ."

  Emily's eyes flashed with anger. "I beg to differ with you as well, your lordship."

  Jared's face hardened into a mask of fury. "You are not in a position to argue with me or your brother."

  Roderick's lips thinned. "Fennington is an idiot. It's obvious he followed you into that shop, but you cannot let your heart be used by such a rogue. You are too softhearted, Em."

  Emily shrugged, avoiding his gaze. Her brother was correct on one fact, she was too softhearted. Jared was proof of that.

  "You must let men like Fennington know you are not interested," Roderick snapped. "Give the fop the cut direct in no unlimited terms. No hands! No kisses! Not even a gaze! That is how it is to be done! Do you understand me?"

  Emily looked up at Roderick's hard expression and had a sudden urge to laugh. How had she let her brothers push her around so? All she had to do was say no, and they could do nothing about it. The thought was exhilarating. They would not dare to touch her. If she did not put her foot down now, there was no telling what her life would be like the next few months.

  "I understand you perfectly. Though you are my guardian, you are not my conscience. I am not interested in Fennington, however, I will do as I see fit."

  Roderick's face turned red. "Indeed you will not. In fact, you will not attend the ball tonight, and that is final."

  "I agree," Jared said with a stern glare. "For once, Roderick, you are doing something right."

  Roderick turned a scowl upon Jared. "I don't know whether to box your ears or thank you."

  Emily tightened her hold on her reticule, trying to subdue the urge to box both their ears. "I do believe that you two are the most pompous gentlemen I have ever set eyes on. For my part, I will attend the ball. And you two can do nothing to stop me. Besides," she smiled, "Mama would not allow it."

  With those last words she tilted the brim of her hat over her eyes and entered the carriage.

  Jared stared at the duke. "What have you done to her the past few days?"

  "Me?" Roderick asked incredulously. "She has not been the same after that blasted fire, and what say have you about my sister anyway? Your duty is done."

  Jared glared back. "I'm Jane's guardian. She has been traveling with Lady Emily. It is my duty to watch the coming and going of her friends."

  The tense lines around Roderick's mouth loosened. "Daresay, thought for a moment you had your sights on Em. Believe I am going mad."

  Jared stared at the shiny black hair that bobbed beyond the window of the carriage. Mad indeed. He turned his gaze back to Roderick. And what the devil had Jane said about a kiss?

  Chapter Nine

  "Clayton and I have a small list of suitors that meet our requirements." Marcus slapped the paper onto the leather-topped table at White's.

  Across from him, Clayton sipped his wine. "Daresay, we have gone all out. Quite hard to find a suitable husband for a sister, you know."

  Roderick glanced at the list, his eyebrows gathering into an intense "V." "Small list indeed. I presume you have researched these men concerning their suitability." A mocking twinkle appeared in his eyes. "And I dearly pray that you do not have one with a monstrous quizzing glass stuck to his brow."

  A hint of a smile tipped at the corner of Clayton's lips. "What do you take us for? A bunch of addlepated nincompoops?"

  "We do not speak like that Clayton," Stephen said in a high-pitched voice as he tugged at his cravat. "Pray now, you will do the right thing and wash your mouth out with soap."

  Clayton laughed, tipping himself back in his chair. That gave Stephen the few precious seconds he needed to wrap his Wellington boot around one of the chair legs and dump his brother with one quick jerk.

  Clayton bounced to the floor with a thud. "What did you do that for?"

  Stephen raised a dark brow, shuffling a deck of cards for their game of whist. "Felt like it."
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  Marcus and Roderick burst into laughter.

  As Clayton staggered back to his seat, Roderick tilted a raised eyebrow toward Stephen. "Where's your list?"

  Stephen shrugged. "Still working on it. What about yours?"

  Roderick sighed. "It's coming along quite nicely." He lowered his gaze to the list of names given to him by Clayton and Marcus. After a few seconds, his eyes widened in outrage. "What do you mean by including Lord Durham? The man's a womanizer of the tenth degree."

  Clayton's jaw dropped as he turned a hardened glare on Marcus. "You were supposed to check the man's background. How could you make a mistake like that?"

  Marcus's eyes fell into a pair of challenging slits. "Me, I daresay you were the one who said you would have the man investigated. I already took the initiative to look into Mr. Glover's background."

  "Mr. Glover?" The cards in Stephen's hands flew haphazardly into the air. "Hell's bells! How can Emily marry a man with no title?"

  Roderick slapped a hand to the table. "Those two are out as are the rest of these." His dark eyes drifted to the last name. "But wait. Lord Bringston?"

  "Bit older man," Marcus added. "Forty-five, I believe. Seems he decided to marry after all these years. In the market now. The man is rich, too. Has some plantation in Jamaica."

  "Quite a decent chap," Clayton said. "Older man might be just the thing for Em. Heard he's brilliant. His appearance is quite acceptable as well. Handsome, they say."

  Roderick pursed his lips in thought. "Looks like we have only one eligible suitor so far. But the more I think about it, the more the idea of an older gentleman might suit our needs perfectly."

  Stephen cocked his head to the side. "One eligible suitor? Have you seen the betting books?"

  All three brothers looked his way, their expression curious. "Why the blazes would the betting books have anything to do with Em?" Roderick asked.

  Stephen stared at Roderick. "I daresay, you should know. You were there they say."

  "Where?"

  "Good grief, Roderick. You were at Madame Claire's earlier today when Stonebridge took Emily to task, were you not?"

  Roderick straightened, stretching his shoulders taut against his navy blue jacket. "And what, pray tell, has that to do with the betting books?"

  Stephen rubbed his hand across his mouth in agitation. "Are you blind and deaf? You do recall that the earl's marriage was on the books with a certain Miss Susan Wimble?"

  "Go on," Roderick replied, his eyes fixed.

  Stephen shook his head. "Before you three entered the club, I wanted to place a little bet on our friend myself."

  Clayton glared at his brother. "Confound it, Stephen. How much this time? I pray it was not ten thousand pounds again."

  "Certainly not."

  Roderick cursed. "Never mind the money, what are you saying?"

  Stephen leaned forward. "It seems Miss Susan Wimble has dropped in the running, and the odds are now two to one that Stonebridge will marry Emily before the Season is out."

  "What?" All three siblings yelled in unison.

  They did not wait for Stephen's explanation before pushing back their chairs and marching toward the betting books. A wave of curious gentlemen parted at the sight of the three brawny men coming their way.

  Meanwhile, Lord Stonebridge was unfortunately entering White's at the same time, his mind set on approaching the Duke of Elbourne about the man's intentions toward Miss Jane Greenwell. Jared had been so fixed on Fennington's approach of Emily, he had turned his anger on Jane when she began arguing with the duke. But after a few hours of sorting out what had happened at the dressmaker's shop, Jared began to assimilate the situation more clearly. Roderick had taken liberties with Jane.

  As soon as one of the servants took the cloak from his back, Jared noted a large crowd gathering in the room where the betting books were kept. He could see the four brothers clearly, and his lips dipped into a foreboding scowl.

  "By Jove," Clayton said as he pulled at the famous betting book. "Look at this, would you, Roderick? You are put in the books as well."

  Roderick grabbed the ledger, his gaze hardening like ice. "Miss Jane Greenwell and me? Preposterous!"

  Grinning like a jester in the king's court, Clayton slapped his eldest brother on the back. "Busy again? And we thought you were working on suitors for Emily."

  "Indeed, Your Grace. You are a busy man." The soft, hushed tone of Lord Stonebridge's voice cleared the floor.

  Roderick spun around, backed by his three siblings. "Ah, the man all of London is betting about." He raised a right brow in challenge. "What say you of the odds?"

  "Not here," Jared hissed and turned on his heels, proceeding into the next room. He was not about to air their doings for all of London to see.

  Four grim-faced gentlemen followed Jared into a more private alcove, their footsteps echoing from the paneled walls as the rumble of voices began once again.

  Jared casually leaned against the back wall. He glanced at Roderick and his three brothers, who stood with hands on hips, their feet planted solidly on the floor. "You asked me about the odds. The odds on you marrying Jane, Your Grace?"

  "No," Roderick growled. "The odds of you marrying Emily."

  A muscle twitched in Jared's jaw as he took in the chilling eyes glaring at him. "Ah, have you put me on the barbaric list of suitors?"

  "You were her protector and nothing else," Roderick bit out. "You have never been on the list."

  "And never will be," Clayton added curtly. "Our Emily—"

  "Your Emily?" Jared interrupted. He thought about the late duke, and anger began to spurt from his veins. He could have pummeled all four brothers at once. "How dare you make her your Emily. The lady in question has a mind of her own. She does not need an arrogant foursome to make her decisions for her, especially when it comes to finding a husband. Give her the credit for having some brains."

  "Indeed?" Roderick said with a menacing sneer. "If it is not one of our choices, whom should she marry? Fennington, perhaps? You heard her today. No telling what she will do. She is a stubborn female set on her ways. Should she have her money run dry after only one year of marriage? Is that what you suggest?"

  Clayton took a threatening step forward. "Yes, and were you not the one who was to guard our sister while we were in London?"

  Jared's eyes darted toward Roderick. "I have come to speak of Miss Jane Greenwell, not your sister. What about that kiss a few days past, Roderick? You do remember, do you not? The day you left Hemmingly and stopped at the posting inn to dine?"

  Stephen, Clayton, and Marcus turned their bewildered gazes upon their eldest brother.

  Roderick glowered at Jared. "We need to talk."

  "Talk?" Jared said with a sardonic smirk, his annoyance evident. It grated on him the way these four barbarians battered Emily's life about as if it were a ball in a cricket game. And now it was Jane's life as well. "We need to do more than talk."

  Roderick's challenging gaze did not go unnoticed. "Indeed?"

  "I will meet you at Gentleman Jackson's in one hour."

  "One hour," Roderick snapped as his brothers gave each other a broadened smile. A boxing match was something they would never miss, not between the two best fighters from Oxford.

  Minutes after the departure of the Earl of Stonebridge and the Duke of Elbourne from White's, the rustle of voices in the club escalated to mounting proportions, especially at the betting books.

  Emily stood in her bedchambers and glanced at the letter from Headquarters one more time. Excitement flowed through her. The coded message conveyed that she was to meet with her two secret contacts in the conservatory during the Garrick Ball. The objective—to finally be introduced to one another.

  She stepped toward the hearth, threw the missive into the fire, and walked across the room to peer at herself in the looking glass. The light green gown fell against her curves in a gentle wave of silk and lace. It held a daringly low-scooped neck that Jane insisted was quit
e proper. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a nest of springy curls that brought attention to her violet-blue eyes.

  She turned at the scratch on the door.

  "Come in."

  Jane entered, smiling. "You look splendid, Emily."

  "And you, Jane. You are beautiful." Jane's pale blue gown brought out the color of her sapphire eyes, which were matched by a silk ribbon intertwined through her golden curls.

  "No, these are beautiful, dearest." A grin spread across Jane's face as she pulled out a strand of snow-white pearls from her reticule. "Your grandmother's, I believe. Your mother would have brought them herself, but the maid is still dressing her hair and I promised I would come here straight away."

  "Oh, Jane. My grandmother's? Truly?"

  Jane nodded and rested the pearls against Emily's skin, clasping the hook behind her neck. "They are beautiful, are they not?"

  "Beautiful." Emily brought her hand up to her neck, and her throat ached. Jared had promised her a similar set when they wed. Oh, why could she not forget him?

  Jane placed a hand on Emily's and peered at her reflection in the mirror. "Do you love him so very much?"

  The question took Emily by surprise, and she blinked, turning away from the mirror. "Him?"

  Jane crossed her arms over the lace bodice of her dress. "Do not play with me, Emily. I am no fool. You have been acting oddly since you came to Hemmingly. I believe Cousin Jared is the reason, am I correct?"

  Emily turned to her friend and sighed. "He ... is impossible."

  "Well, now we are getting somewhere. Come sit down and tell your best friend everything." Jane pulled Emily toward the bed, her grip determined. "And I mean everything."

  Emily gave a nervous laugh. It was suddenly all too much for her, and she finally let down her guard, telling Jane about her relationship with Jared and how he had left her for another woman.