Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Linfield, Emma

  After half an hour in the library, she was unable to bear the weight of solitude any longer. Running upstairs to her chambers, she took the latest letter from the drawer and descended once more. Decisively, she crossed the entrance hall and hurried out of the door, explaining to Daniel that she was going to visit with Jasper. It was not unusual for her to do so, considering their friendship.

  He seemed surprised to see her. “Adelaide? I had not expected to see you today.”

  “I have just come from the Green residence,” she lied. “Leah had briefly returned to collect some of her things, and I waited as she wrote you a reply. She has gone back to her family, and she was sorry that she could not stay longer, but she sent her fondest wishes to you.”

  A smile broke out upon his face. “I had not anticipated a reply so soon.”

  Adelaide handed him the note. “Might I stay whilst you read it?”

  “Certainly.” He directed her through to the drawing room, where they sat in amiable silence as he devoured the letter. As soon as he had finished, he released a slow sigh of contentment. The response thrilled and wounded Adelaide in equal measure.

  The letter did not come from you, remember? she chided herself.

  “What does she say?”

  He chuckled. “She writes so wonderfully. It is almost as though I am in her memories, enjoying them alongside her. She speaks of Christmas and of childhood recollections. They are remarkably vivid.”

  “How wonderful.”

  “She asks about you,” he said unexpectedly.

  “Oh?” Adelaide could hardly believe that she had dared to put the question into the letter. Indeed, it had been her own curiosity, getting the better of her. She had never seen Jasper in a romantic light, but she was eager to know if he had ever viewed her in such a fashion.

  “I shall not tell you what it says, but she appears to have reconsidered our friendship,” he explained. “I am glad of that, for I do not know what I might have done if she had forced me into casting you aside.”

  “You have said so before.”

  He nodded. “I am sorry for that. You know I could never do such a thing to you, for you are so very dear to me. You have been my constant companion all these years and I am grateful for it.” His gaze lingered for a moment, confusing Adelaide. A flicker of something moved behind his eyes—an emotion she could not read. It seemed to fall somewhere between sadness and wonder.

  “I am grateful, too.”

  “I have been meaning to say something for a long while now,” he said nervously. “When you stood on the front steps after you feared that the Duke of Bradford had broken his promise…I should have done more to comfort you. I wanted to do more, but I did not know what to say or do to ease your suffering. I would have done whatever I could, if I had only known how to behave.”

  She stared at him in surprise. “You did more than you realize. Having you there, by my side, was a comfort in my darkest time.”

  “It has been many years since I have seen you cry, Adelaide. It wounded me to see you in pain. I wanted to reach out and wipe them away, or take your hand, or…I do not know. I simply have to tell you that I wanted to do more.”

  She had never heard Jasper speak like this before, and the shift in his words stirred something inside her. She thought of the letters, and the emotions that she had poured into them. They had come from her heart, and yet Leah was set to gain the recognition for them. He adored the Miss Green that she had fabricated, not realizing that the sentiment was hers.

  “I understand that you did all that you could,” was all she could say.

  “There is something about Miss Green that reminds me of you,” he went on, with a shy smile. “The way she speaks—her vigor and her candor—they are reminiscent of your character. Naturally, you would never say the things that she has said, for you loathe romanticism in all its forms. I have never seen this side of her before. It is entirely pleasing.”

  “That is wonderful news,” Adelaide replied, her heart weirdly heavy. “I am glad that she is able to bring you some joy, even from afar.”

  “I do wish she would visit again,” he sighed. “Had I known she was back in the city, I might have ventured to meet with her. I have to see if the young lady on the page is the same young lady in the flesh. It is easier to say certain things in letters, I feel. I am certainly more forthcoming than I am in person.” He laughed tightly, as though embarrassed.

  “Have you offered hope of a proposal?”

  He shook his head. “No, I have not. I fear she may end up engaged to another if I do not move more quickly. Her mother is applying some pressure, or so it would appear. She talks of suitors and of duty. In truth, I do not know what I ought to do.”

  “What does your heart say?”

  He shrugged. “It is conflicted. I cannot make the two ladies coincide—the Miss Green in these letters is entirely more enchanting than the Miss Green who has visited with me. She is very endearing in person, do not mistake me, but I cannot correlate this voice with the one that I already know. She seems almost like a stranger… but one that I should love to get to know better.”

  “Will you continue to write to her?”

  “I must. I must venture deeper into her nature and reveal the truth of her character through these writings,” he said effusively. “For, if this is truly her, without the restraints of societal courtesy, then she is precisely the sort of young lady that I have been seeking all these years. She is exactly the lady that I would wish to make my wife.”

  Adelaide froze. “I never thought to hear you speak of such things so plainly.”

  “Something has been moved within me, Adelaide. I feel I am becoming a new man.” He laughed, though the sound stilled as he looked toward Adelaide. She could not force a smile onto her face. “You do not approve?”

  “If she continues to capture your heart…I think only you may decide on the course of action.” Her own heart pounded in her chest, an icy feeling sliding through her veins.

  Can that be… envy? Surely not, Adelaide. You cannot envy Leah, her position in Jasper’s heart. He adores her well enough. She may be unworthy of him, given her transgressions with Alastair McGillivray, but you cannot sway his opinion. You must control yourself. This is the writing speaking, not you. You were given a taste of the romantic and it is intoxicating—this may be so, but do not give it any weight. If you loved Jasper, you would already know… would you not?

  Confusion speared through her mind, a tangle of emotions that she did not know what to do with, nor did she recognize. She had never been jealous of anyone, least of all Jasper’s admirers. Indeed, she could not comprehend the process of her own brain. It seemed to have gone quite mad.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head. “No… I had an encounter with the Duke of Bradford and it has left me somewhat at sea.”

  “How so?”

  “I was under the impression that affection was supposed to grow and strengthen over time, but I could not muster an ounce of it when he came to visit today,” she confessed, though she had no idea why. This was not the kind of thing she usually discussed with Jasper. “I can barely admit it to myself, but… there is a part of me that dreads our union. My father sought to rush the wedding, but the Duke said he could not wed me within two weeks. He desired a longer engagement. I must tell you, I discovered that I was grateful to hear it.”

  He stared at her in silence for a moment. “You do not believe you will be happy at his side?”

  “I do not know, Jasper. I find myself in a curious state of confusion.” She almost blurted out the truth, but fear held her back. He would likely despise her if she confessed that she was the letter writer. And besides, what was she supposed to say to him? She did not know her own feelings, how could she describe them to him? They were so new and surprising… and utterly terrifying.

  “What has brought such bemusement upon you?”

  “I cannot say.”

&nb
sp; He frowned. “You are usually so clear in your decisions. Indeed, you have told myself and your father that our input is unwelcome, where the Duke of Bradford is concerned. You seemed so content. You confessed that you admired him. What has changed?”

  “I am not certain anything has changed,” she replied quietly. “There have simply been revelations that I do not think I can ignore.”

  “About the Duke?”

  No… about you.

  “Yes.”

  “What revelations?” His expression darkened. “Has he done something to you? Has he harmed you?”

  She shook her head, feeling hot tears rise. “No, he has not. He has been courteous and kind to me. Indeed, I find it hard to believe that he can belong to the monstrous tales that people tell me of his past. He calls me his savior, did you know that?”

  “I did not.”

  “The truth is… I feel as though I will be sacrificing myself in order to save his soul.”

  He leaned forward and took Adelaide’s hand in his. “Oh, my dear friend. I am sorry for this.”

  “I cannot break the engagement. I will not. My family is relying upon this match, whether they realize it or not.” She stifled a sob. “I know my father does not like the Duke, but he shall learn to… as shall I.”

  “It is not too late,” Jasper urged.

  “You must ignore me,” she begged. “I am overwrought after the day I have had. I will return to my house and sleep away my qualms. Please, write to Miss Green. Answer her questions. Find your heart cheered. I have brought this mistake upon myself, and now I must see it through.”

  “Adelaide, please, it is not too late to stop this. It is within your power if you desire it,” he urged.

  She turned to him, her heart breaking. The sudden realization gripped her chest in a vise. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words would not come out. Oh, but it is, Jasper… it is much too late. Your heart belongs to another and I would not seek to claim it for myself. I can hardly admit that I want it for my own. I never thought to discover a man I could love. Yet here you were, all this time, right in front of me.

  Chapter 24

  Two days later, on Friday evening, Ephraim descended the stairs of the townhouse and paused in the entrance hall. From the music room, he could hear his wife playing the harp. The melodic sound drifted down the hall, each pulled string wrenching at his heart.

  You should go now, without delay, he told himself. And yet, he could not. If he left without saying goodbye, there was no way of knowing when he might return. Lord Rowntree had undoubtedly set a trap, and he was due to walk right into it.

  Steeling himself, he crossed the entrance hall and looked into the music room. Margaret glanced up, the music coming to a fading standstill. She smiled, her eyes glittering in the soft light. He had never seen her look more beautiful, not even on their wedding day. Now, at the prospect of losing her, he realized how many years had been wasted on what might have been. Deep down, he had always loved her.

  “Was I playing too loud?” she asked.

  “Not at all, my darling. I just wanted to come in and hear it more clearly.”

  “Shall I go on?”

  He smiled back. “I am already late for a rather important meeting, but I shall keep that tune in my heart as I go,” he said, forcing down the sadness that threatened to spill over. “We have been happy, you and I, have we not?”

  She tilted her head to one side. “I should say that we have, my dear. Tell me, is something the matter?” A note of panic shivered in her voice.

  “No, my dear. I am feeling somewhat nostalgic, that is all,” he lied. “And you sitting there, playing that song… it reminded me of our first years together. You would retreat for the evening and I would hear that sweet music drifting down the corridors of Kiveton Hall.”

  “Those were happy times, indeed.”

  He paused. “Were they? For you, I mean?”

  “Of course, my dear,” she replied. “You and I were getting to know one another. They were the merriest of times. Our walks in the woods, our talks late into the night, our dinners together. Do you not remember it that way?”

  “I have always found you difficult to read, my love. In those days, I found it even harder,” he confessed. “You were so frightened in our first weeks of marriage that I did not even know how to approach you. I did not understand women very well then… nor I do now.”

  She frowned. “Where is this sadness coming from, my dear? I have never heard you speak this way.”

  “I worry that I have not been as attentive a husband as I might have been,” he replied. “I ought to have told you that I loved you. I ought to have said so every morning and night, from our first day to our last. Fear prevented me. We were not brought together by love and I always wondered if you might have preferred another in my stead.”

  “I have loved you for a long time now, Ephraim. Perhaps, in those first weeks, I did not. I would be a liar if I said otherwise. But you have given me the gift of the most wonderful daughter, and you have been kind and generous all these years,” she said, tears glinting in her eyes. “I have told you every night that I love you, though I say it so you do not hear. I have done so because my fears are the same as yours.”

  He laughed tightly. “We have been fools.”

  “We have.”

  “Might I hold you, my darling?” He walked towards her as she rose from her seat. Her arms slid around his neck as his encircled her, holding her tightly. Never had anywhere, or anyone, felt so like home.

  “Do you promise me that everything is fine?” she whispered. “Only, you do not seem to be yourself.”

  He buried his face in her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. “All will be well, my love.”

  “Will be?”

  “It is already, my dear. As I say, I found myself hit with a bout of nostalgia and regret that I could not shake,” he said softly. “I hate to think that we have wasted so much time, hiding the truth from one another. For I have loved you always. You have been more than a wife to me—you have been a friend, a companion, a business partner. You are everything to me.”

  “Tell me everything is well, Ephraim?” She pulled away, holding his face in her hands.

  He nodded slowly. “It will be, my love.”

  Without another word, he kissed her and left the room. No matter what happened that night, his wife would know that she was loved. He had longed to tell Adelaide, too, but her maid had informed him that she was sleeping away a headache. Still, she would surely know how grateful he was to have had them both in his life.

  Exiting the townhouse, two horses awaited. Jasper sat astride one of them—a silver mare—whilst a dark chestnut gelding stood proud beside. Ephraim mounted the horse and turned it towards Westminster Abbey, its hooves thundering along the cobbles as he headed for his fate.

  They arrived as darkness fell. It would be many hours before the peers left parliament, but they had anticipated that. Leaving the horses tied to a post, close to the old court entrance, they stole through a side-gate and hurried across the empty expanse. In the near-distance, the bells of Westminster Abbey chimed six o’clock. It would be a long night for everyone.

  They made their way through the labyrinth of halls and corridors, until they came to one of the storage rooms in the northernmost wing of the Houses of Parliament. Ephraim had placed several documents in here, once upon a time, and knew it would be the ideal place to hide until midnight arrived. They ducked in unseen and moved to the back of the dim room. Nobody would find them here.

  As they sat in the darkness, Ephraim glanced at Jasper. “You seem rather distracted,” he said. The young man had been sullen all the way from the townhouse, his manner fidgety and awkward.

  “Do I?” he asked, half frightened out of his skin.

  “Yes, you do. Are you having second thoughts?”

  “About this? No.”

  “But about something?”

  Jasper sighed heavily.
“It is not I who is having second thoughts, My Lord. It is Lady Adelaide. She came to me two days ago and told me of her confusion,” he replied. “I should not be telling you this, as it was spoken in confidence, but I feel I must speak up. She is no longer certain of the Duke. Her resolve is waning.”

  Ephraim gasped. “How could you keep this from me?”

  “It was not my place to say anything.”

  “I wish you had not said a word,” he muttered. “The plan was to have Adelaide marry the Duke, in the event that things went awry tonight. What am I to do now, if such a disaster should occur? I cannot have her marry the Duke if she does not wish it. That has never been my intention. I went along with it because I thought she was content.”