Seeking Scandal

by Nadine Millard

  “Well,” she said jovially, presumably trying to salvage some propriety from the situation, “I shall be on my way. Good afternoon Caro, gentlemen.” She curtsied once again and lifted her bonnet to replace it on her head.

  And, of course, upon tipping it over to replace it, proceeded to dump its contents all over herself.

  She gasped in shock as the icy cold water dripped down her head, and spluttered most becomingly as it hit her face.

  Lady Caroline groaned and dropped her face into her hands once more. Tom, once again lost control of himself and gave a shout of laughter.

  Edward found himself biting his tongue enough to taste blood to stop himself from laughing too.

  Lady Rebecca swiped the excess water from her eyes and shot them a rueful grin. Then, turning on her heel, she trudged her way back up the garden and towards the house.

  They heard the squelch of the water in her boots until she had disappeared over the slight hill.

  The silence she left behind with her departure was deafening.

  “Your grace,” Lady Caroline stuttered the words in the general direction of his chest, too mortified to look him in the eye, “perhaps you would like to return to the house.”

  It seemed they were not going to discuss the surreal incident they had just witnessed. If he was honest though, he could not think of a damned thing to say anyway.

  So, throwing a quick look of complete amazement towards Tom, who was looking thoroughly entertained, he offered his arm to Lady Caroline. “I would indeed, my lady,” he answered, all politeness.

  Edward had no idea what he had let himself in for by coming here. But suddenly, he could not wait to find out.

  Betraying Ever After

  by Kelly Martin

  (coming Summer 2014)

  PROLOGUE

  As with beauty, evil is in the eye of the beholder. One man’s revenge is another man’s just cause. One man’s vendetta is another man’s justice.

  Who decides good and evil? Right and wrong? Vendetta or justice?

  God?

  People?

  Society?

  And who decides the consequences? Who decides which evil acts deserves punishment?

  Who?

  ****

  He knew he had just cause in his revenge.

  He had waited patiently, waited after the baron — with the help of his backstabbing friend — took her away from him.

  Anger filled him when he heard of their nuptials.

  Jealously consumed him when he learned of their daughter. A daughter that should have been his. It mattered not that he had a wife of his own now, and a child, a daughter as well. It mattered not that he was one of the— no, the wealthiest man in Darenset — nay, the entirety of England.

  It mattered not that his wife was the most beautiful lady the ton had ever produced. His wife was not her, and that was all that mattered.

  Sorrow filled him when he heard news of her death. Childbirth — a second daughter.

  Sorrow turned to vengeful thoughts.

  Vengeful thoughts turned to actions.

  A debt bought.

  A debt collected.

  A debt unable to be paid.

  And a young daughter forced into servitude as a result.

  And what of the traitorous friend of the baron? Would vengeance not greet him for the role he played in the deceit? Of course, justice would prevail. Plans had already been set in motion.

  His family would be dealt with in time.

  They all would be.

  Time made no difference to him. His soul never found rest. Five years. Ten years. Thirteen years since what was his, was stolen from him. The wound still bled.

  If the baron presumed the man’s revenge was final by taking his eldest as a servant to pay his debts, he was such a naïve fool.

  Fredrick Dodsworth had money, and that trumped titles. He carried people’s debts, and that covered a multitude of sins. He collected sins. Used them to his advantage. Made a lofty career out of it.

  The two men who had betrayed him all those years before had it coming.

  Justice.

  Not revenge.

  He rested his elbow on the mantle, scratched the beard on his chin, and watched the orange flames dance as they consumed the piece of unfortunate firewood tossed inside. He understood fire. The beauty of it. The pure grandeur of a small spark that grew into a raging inferno if allowed. He’d allowed it in his time. Some secrets would never be told. Some sins would never be collected. One could control such things when one was the collector.

  And some sins would never receive forgiveness.

  Mr. Dodsworth clinched his nails into his shaking palm until blood seeped from underneath.

  They would all get what they deserved.

  A small drop fell from his hand, sizzling in the flames. He pulled out a cloth to wipe away the rest of the scarlet droplets.

  Soon he would see justice.

  Upstairs, he heard giggling. Two young women. One his own daughter — and the other a means to an end. They had no idea their time together grew short. A small smile pulled at his lips as he tossed the soiled cloth into the flames. He could buy others. Money meant nothing to him. Justice was the only payment he required.

  The two men who took what was his? He would make them pay the worst way he could imagine. Laughter bubbled in his chest as the cloth burned into unrecognizable ash.

  He would hurt their children.

  And he would make them watch.

  CHAPTER ONE

  1816 Darenset, England

  “You look beautiful.”

  Emma Hartwell beamed as she fastened the last button on the back of Gertrude Dodsworth’s gown. It was exquisite. Perfect for one of the many balls she would attend. A gorgeous green shade, specially made for her by the designers at Trudy’s father’s textile factory. One of the largest factories in Darenset, and the Dodsworths were one of the richest families in the city.

  Emma wasn’t a Dodsworth, though by rights, she was the only person in the room of noble blood. Money trumped blood. Especially in that time. Titles were important, but one could have a title and still owe a huge debt. Emma peeked over Trudy’s shoulder and saw her own small reflection in the mirror. A knot formed in her throat as she shut her eyes and willed the unhappiness away. No matter what, debts had to be collected. She knew that fact all too well.

  “Do you love it?” Trudy twirled in the mirror, oblivious to Emma’s sudden sullen change in mood.

  Needing a moment to compose herself, Emma drew in a deep breath and exhaled to ease the constricting of her chest, all the while hiding it from Trudy. Once Trudy stopped spinning, her reflection showed exactly what Emma saw, a beautiful eighteen year old girl in an exquisite dress on her way to her coming out party. Soon after, the Season would start in London as well as in Darenset, and she’d be married in no time. Though not of royal blood, Trudy had a very hefty dowry. Any man would want it. Not to mention, Trudy was a vision. Wavy red hair would hold a curl if forced. Slender features.

  Delicate.

  Different.

  Bright eyes that lightened when she had something exciting to tell Emma and couldn’t keep it a secret. Lately, that occurred more and more frequently.

  “I do. Truly amazing. Hold still. I’ll put this in your hair.” Emma wanted to envy Trudy. A coming out party. A ball. A whole life in front of her. Then again, her own life would begin in a few days as well. When she could go home to her father and sister. A time she’d prayed for and looked forward to every day since she had begun worked for Mr. Dodsworth.

  Not liking the fact that her mood had soured, Emma threw her shoulders back and tilted her chin slightly. A sullen ninny she refused to be! Instead, she would be brave. She wouldn’t dwell on the past. Especially not now. Not when things were so close to being over.

  Not every girl needed to go to balls and dance with her prince.

  Emma couldn’t help but smile, though she struggled against the constricting
of her chest again, as she watched Trudy in the mirror. I won’t be sad… I won’t be sad… I refuse to be sad, she repeated to herself, praying she would believe it soon. Envy wasn’t her normal attitude, and she very much disliked it.

  While Trudy sat in a chair with the fabric of her emerald green dress billowing out in all directions, Emma attempted to put a rose she’d picked from the garden into Trudy’s fiery hair.

  “Hold still.” She giggled despite herself. Trudy really was one of those girls who could light up a room. A sweet girl. The total opposite of her father who could be kind at times, but there was always something secretive about him. Something Emma could never place. Something she wouldn’t miss when she went back home to Enhurst.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll try to sit still.” And she did. She tried, but her excitement made her feet shake first… then her knees…. then her hips… in a few seconds, her entire body shook to some sort of rhythm and to a tune only Trudy could hear.

  “This won’t work unless you stop.” Emma laughed, fighting to slide the stem of the red rose into Trudy’s matching hair. There. It would have to do. Getting Trudy ready was fun, but it took away from her other chores — and, thanks to Mr. Dodsworth, Emma had plenty.

  Though the Dodsworth’s were rich, they didn’t have many servants. Possibly, as a way for stingy Mr. Dodsworth to keep more of his wealth. Less workers meant less wages. Of course, it meant more work for Emma, Elizabeth, and Miles — the only servants in the entire household. Emma was both the lady’s maid and the chambermaid. The only other maid in the home, the housekeeper, was Elizabeth — a woman not two years Emma’s senior. Rules of polite society dictated Emma should call her Mrs. Elizabeth though the girl wasn’t married. It was of no consequence, Emma never could bring herself to do it. It would almost be as strange as calling Trudy Miss Gertrude. She shivered at the unpleasant thought.

  Imagine if someone called her “Miss Emma”. She scoffed and shook her head. Maybe in her dreams. Maybe when she got back to Enhurst and forgot all about this time of her life. Maybe when she could be the “Baron’s Daughter” and not some lowly house servant. She’d miss Trudy and Elizabeth — and Miles in a small way, but she wouldn’t miss having to work for someone else to pay for a debt not hers. Perhaps if she went far away, no one would know of her servant past.

  Perhaps if it were far enough away — Ravenston or even Everdale.

  Emma’s mind wandered, and she could picture sitting in a chair like the one Trudy occupied with a maid helping her get ready for her coming out party — or one of the many balls. She’d wear a blue dress, for it was her favorite color and matched her eyes so well. Her maid would put one of her mother’s combs in her hair, keeping the blond curls from escaping. Emma would stand. Twirl. Feel the rich fabric as it flew against her skin.

  Then she would turn to her maid and thank her for everything she’d done for her and tell her she was appreciated.

  Finally, Emma would get in a white carriage drawn by a white horse and be whisked away to — not Darenset where she lived now. It was a beautiful town. Large. The biggest in the area, rivaling London with its beauty and wealth. Not to the balls in Enhurst, a much smaller place where everybody knew everybody — and a baron’s daughter being gone for years was no exception. No, Emma would make the day’s journey to London where she would attend every ball the city had to offer. Where no one knew her. Where she would find a husband who would never have to know what she had done for the past five years.

  And she would never think of Darenset again. Only in her nightmares. Being a servant wasn’t the part she hated. She didn’t mind cleaning or helping Trudy. It was the highlight of her day. What she disliked was being away from home. Away from her childhood friends. Friends she was forced to leave without any notice.

  One day she came home from her dear friend Ruby’s house. Her father greeted her with a bag and escorted her out to a waiting carriage, not a white one.

  Mostly Emma understood why she had to leave, but she was more than ready for this part of her life to be over. She would miss Trudy. Though the two were close in age, their appearance and attitude about life couldn’t be more different. Trudy had the most beautifully different red hair Emma had ever seen, blue eyes that were so light they looked like the sky on an early autumn day, and, though she wasn’t a royal, Trudy had a titled air about her. She expected certain things in life and pouted when her expectations weren’t met in her desired time. Trudy’s one downfall.

  Emma had stone blue eyes, a round nose, and dark blond hair just like her mother. The mother she would never see again. The mother she still grieved for though it had been nearly seventeen years since her passing when Emma was only two. Her mother’s death left her with a father and a newborn sister. It also led to her father’s grief and mounting issues with currency.

  No matter what was whispered in haughty tones every time she went to the Darenset marketplace, Emma knew the truth. Her father did all he could to take care of them. It wasn’t his fault Mr. Dodsworth called in his debt.

  None of that, Emma chided herself. She would not waste time worrying over things she could not change such as her mother’s death and being given by her father to Mr. Dodsworth to pay his debt. Emma’s time at the Dodsworth’s was soon coming to a close. In a week’s time, her father would come and fetch her home. It would be wonderful.

  Emma choked back a tear. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not when it was so close to being over. And not with Trudy looking so beautiful in her ball gown in front of her. Tonight was special for her friend, and she did not want to ruin it.

  Too late for that.

  “Is something the matter?” Trudy asked staring at Emma through the mirror for the first time that evening. Her forehead creased, and she appeared troubled. “No. Nothing.” Not wanting to cause a scene or take the attention away from Trudy and her big night, Emma shut her eyes tightly and willed the tears to cease.

  Trudy turned in her seat and took Emma’s hand in hers, gently patting it. “Do not lie to me, sweet Emma. I’ve known you far too long for that. What is troubling you? Are you sad you cannot come to the ball? If I asked father…”

  “No,” Emma said louder than she meant. She removed her hand from Trudy’s quickly and nearly knocked her over in her haste. When she faced her again, Trudy’s eyes were wide in surprise. Emma couldn’t blame her. Trudy had no idea what had been going on in Emma’s thoughts while she rambled on about the coming Season and the handsome Lord Waverly she hoped to dance with.

  “No,” Emma said a little more calmly, wiping her hands on one of the insufferable white aprons Mr. Dodsworth insisted she and Elizabeth wear. “It is not that. I promise you. Though I would love to attend your first ball, I understand why I can’t. If things were different…”

  Trudy stood and walked toward Emma with a sad smile on her face. Again, she took Emma’s hand firmly and bent down so she was at eyelevel with her maid. “Emma Rose Hartwell. You are my dearest friend, and it does bother me that you have to work for my father, and it absolutely kills me that my friend cannot attend my coming out party or share the Season with me. It isn’t fair.”

  Emma appreciated Trudy’s words, but she knew the ways of the world.. Though of noble blood, the daughter of a baron, she was a maid paying for her father’s debts. She could not attend the ball without scandal, and she would not wish that on her friend. She would not wish scandal on anyone.

  Five years ago, scandal rocked her home in Enhurst, and she refused to live though those times again. “It really is alright. I promise. Soon, the Season will start and you will find a suitor. Or several. Maybe even the Lord Waverly you go on and on about. You will forget all about me.”

  Trudy’s cheeks blushed, and she held on to Emma’s hands tighter. “While Lord Waverly is a dream of a gentleman, I daresay I will never have him. Not if my father has anything to do with it. Besides, never in my life will I forget you, Emma.”

  She let the words sink in. No, she would not cry again
. “And in a few days I will have paid my father’s debt to your father and will be on my way home. So, you see? We both have things to look forward to.”

  “Still doesn’t mean it is fair. I will miss you when you go.” Trudy leaned over and hugged her tightly. Outside of that room, it would have appeared strange, even scandalous for a lady to hug her servant. Such behavior was not acceptable. But in Trudy’s room, it was a friend hugging a friend. For a brief few seconds, Emma did not worry about what the outside world thought of her. The only thing that mattered, Trudy: a girl she had shared dolls with and had pretend tea parties way past the age acceptable for young girls to play in such a way. A girl who, late at night, after everyone else had gone to bed, snuck into Emma’s room and taught her the lessons Trudy’s tutors had given her during the mornings. Emma wagered there wasn’t another maid in London as educated as she. A fact she cherished.

  “I will miss you too.” Emma pushed her friend back gently and studied her face. In the five years she had known her, Trudy had changed from a gangly child into a sophisticated woman. After a fortnight, she likely would never see her again, and it broke Emma’s heart, but she was more than ready to begin a new time in her life. “But we have to finish getting you ready. You have a ball to attend.”

  Trudy took her handkerchief and dabbed the wetness under her eyes. “That I do.”

  “Let’s get you ready, Gertrude Dodsworth. The world is waiting for you, and I shall want to hear every detail.”

  bluetulippublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN