by Rebecca Dash
The Earl Of Scandal
Rebecca Dash
Copyright
Copyright © 2017
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Let’s Stay In Touch
Chapter 1
Soon after reading the news of George IV’s invalid marriage to Maria Fitzherbert, an average woman with no trace of nobility running through her veins, Stephen Brookes sighed as he watched his dearest daughter painting in the garden. He and his beloved wife had kept a close eye on Emily for her entire life. She was born after the death of their son. Sometimes he thought she was much too sheltered because of that.
Mr. Brookes had a heart softer than a ball of cotton, though his profession required him to demand respect. As a solicitor, he’d seen the worst in people, collecting client details that a fainthearted man could never endure, then recounting it all to the barrister for consideration. Yet, his love for his family soared beyond heaven. The realities of the world had not made him callous to them.
“Our dear Emily is coming of age for marriage,” said Mr. Brookes. “I fear that a righteous man of an acceptable social status may be hard to find.”
“She is quite beautiful,” said Mrs. Brookes.
“I did not mean otherwise. Her biggest problem will be finding someone worthy of her. Especially in these times when many young men are off to fight in the war.”
Mrs. Brookes wrung her hands as she looked at her daughter through the window. “My heart tears to pieces when I imagine her given into marriage.”
“She deserves to have a good life.”
“I know. Emily deserves the life of a queen.”
Mrs. Brookes was concerned about her daughter’s prospects. From the first moment she held Emily in her arms, she had sworn to take care of her for as long as she drew breath. To see her fall into the hands of the wrong man would be the death of her.
“It is our duty to find her a spouse who knows the value of life,” said Mr. Brookes. “Someone who would not dare to assault her in any manner possible. A man of faith and high morals is what she needs.”
“You cannot pay the butcher with morals. The man ought to have a sufficient fortune for her to live quite a comfortable life as well. Faith and morals alone shall not satisfy her needs.”
Mr. Brookes crinkled his brow. At fifty-nine, his wrinkles were not as deep as his wife’s, who worried every single second about Emily’s welfare.
“Of course, money is also part of it,” he said.
“These things must be made clear. Emily needs to marry a man like Helena’s husband.”
“Yes, her sister did exceedingly well for herself.”
“My soul would take delight if my wish comes true before she grows too old.”
“We have a bit of time left before her ruin.”
“Do not take such a casual attitude towards something of this importance,” she said, sternly. “It is never too early to look.”
Mr. Brookes had no answer, returning to his newspaper instead. He snapped the page of the Morning Herald taught and skimmed over it for the next article. Maybe something else about how a normal girl might find herself a prince.
Out in the garden, a symphony of birds brought forth a happy rhythm to an otherwise quiet day. It was sunny, and wildflowers perfumed the area. Emily sat by a stream with a paint brush and pallet in her hands. After sketching the patterns she saw in nature, she let creativity guide the strokes in whichever way it would. The colors of the paint gave depth and a realistic image to the canvas.
Her sweet voice put a song on the wind as she painted. Emily had shared a passion for music with her elder sister, Helena, who was married to a man of fortune, and lived not far away from their family home in Cambridge. The few times Emily took the trip, it would only be an hour or so to get there on foot.
Aside from those visits, she had spent the majority of her time close to the house, as was her parents’ wish. But boredom had never been a complaint. Emily enjoyed a stunning garden and the company of good books. She also preferred to spend her time with family, instead of new acquaintances. Never in her life had she been able to attend any balls, country dances or the New Year’s masquerade. Her parents were strict about her staying put, away from the bad influence of anyone whose deeds might not align with standards of propriety.
A blue bird with a yellow breast landed on top of the canvas. Emily smiled at it. “A beautiful soul knows no evil, for its heart desires only good. But a man whose wealth is yoked around his neck is like a prisoner caged within the jail of his own insanity, for the slavery of money causes one to sin,” she whispered, pondering the next poem she was to write.
Emily often spoke to her animal friends, trying to inspire herself to create meaningful poems and novels that contained words of wisdom that may one day encourage those she came across. She not only possessed such a talent in literature and the arts, but her visage was an art in itself. Emily was blessed with thick lashes and eyes greener than emerald. Blond hair fell softly on her silken skin. Such delicacy was the result of all the care that her parents and only sister gave her, growing up. Every man who had ever seen her could not help but be mesmerized by the depth of her beauty.
Taking a moment to look away from the painting and the tranquility that surrounded her, Emily caught her mother and father staring from the house. “Oh dear, they’re watching me once more. Perhaps they’re thinking about which of the rich men in town I ought to marry. None of them interest me, to be honest. They are just a bunch of wealthy addle pates who know nothing of people’s plights. Should I marry someone, he needs to have a heart for the needy.”
Soon after the painting was done, she made her way back into the house. The sky had grown dark and threatened a hard rain. Emily was thankful for it. The garden would be watered, at last.
Chapter 2
Emily, along with her immediate family, celebrated her nineteenth birthday. She felt like it was a good age, a time when she could step away from the brink of adolescence, towards being an independent woman. And yet, her parents insisted that she stay at home instead of going into town to purchase something for herself. She didn’t even know what it would be. But a birthday should have surprises.
***
Mrs. Brookes’ petticoat made her look bigger than her slim figure. Her yellow gown with ripples on the bottom, dragged along the floor as she kept walking to and fro. “We still have not found a man for Emily.”
“Keep yourself still. I am certain he is just around the corner.” As calm as a lamb, Mr. Brookes took a sip of his coffee while reading the newspaper. He tried very hard to ignore his wife. The nagging had become more severe with every week that passed.
Mrs. Brookes sighed heavily. “How could you say such a thing? Emily is getting older and older every single day. Do not wait until her youth passes and her beauty withers away to nothing. She needs a man to marry.” Her voice had gone an octave higher.
Mr. Brookes folded his paper and put it down on the table. “I have no intention of fraying your poor nerves, bu
t you must show trust in me since I know what is best for our daughter as much as you do.”
“Action speaks louder than words, and I have not seen your commitment to finding our youngest daughter a decent man to settle down with. My poor nerves plead with you to go beyond my expectations and find that wealthy bachelor.”
“I am merely giving things time to sort themselves out on their own.”
His wife’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “You take delight in vexing me.”
“I most certainly do not.”
“Things never magically sort themselves out. Either we do it ourselves or someone else does it for us.”
“Then I have done it myself.”
“Done what? I demand an immediate answer.”
Mr. Brookes got up, walked toward his wife, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “My truest delight comes from the woman of my life.”
“You are devilish sweet when you want to be, sir, but I am in no mood.”
“Well, maybe this will lighten your mood some. I have had everything planned out well before Emily turned nineteen. I am simply waiting to see if she might meet someone else so that her marriage can take a more natural path.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before his death, I was an excellent friend of the Duke of Humbershire. I have handled all legal matters for him over the course of many years.”
“Lovely. I ask for an eligible gentleman and you come up with a dead duke. What shall we get first, a special license or a shovel?”
“It is exactly that sort of pluck that has kept our marriage interesting all these years. A dead duke does not help us. However, he had a son who I am also acquainted with. He is the current Duke of Humbershire, whose vast fortune extends from Cambridge to Scotland, for he owns several thousand acres of land, dedicated to farming and the grazing of herds.”
A look of great delight had come across Mrs. Brookes’ face. “Oh, what joy you have brought me, my dear husband. Now I see less of a reason to worry.”
“I am delighted at that.”
“If that will delight you, then make us all positively giddy with more developments. Introduce them.”
He pulled at the collar of his shirt. It felt constricting. “I still want to give Emily more time for her heart to decide which direction she must go in.”
“Nonsense. Her heart will decide quickly when she is living in a sprawling, country estate with ten footmen who have no other purpose in the world than to cater to her needs.”
Mr. Brookes swallowed painfully. “Um… I have to let you know something first, before this gets any further along…”
“Delay the details for now, my dear husband. I shall make a trip to Helena’s place and deliver the news there to Emily. Surely, she would jump from exceeding joy.” Turning around, she grabbed hold of her hat and umbrella.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak. How could he tell her? Would she become distraught at the new revelation? The door swung open. He yelled just as his wife was stepping through it.
“The current Duke of Humbershire is thirty years older than Emily.”
As the words pierced her ears, a sudden disappointment dropped over her face like a veil. She couldn’t imagine how a man who was old enough to be her daughter’s father could marry such a young lady as Emily. She turned around and looked straight into her husband’s eyes. “Please cease your tricks, for I shall not buy into them. Not today. The news is too good to spoil, even in jest. I have known you long enough.” Mrs. Brookes smiled, though deep inside, she wished that her husband would stop the joke already, and calm the butterflies that fought in her stomach.
“I have spoken the truth.”
She threw her hands up in the air, dropping the umbrella. “Perfect! We have progressed from a dead duke to a duke with one foot in the grave.”
“He is only forty-nine. And if he is half dead, what does that make either of us?”
“Also people who are too old to run around chasing nineteen-year-olds.”
“It is accepted.”
“But not acceptable! And if that is the case, I must attend the next country dance.” She spun her hand around over her head as if at a wild event. “Perhaps there is a teenage duke who needs to learn a thing or two about love.”
“And you would be charged for treason afterward.”
“Hardly.”
“The things you would teach the boy, he would have to abandon his title, and run off to fight Napoleon just to forget.”
“Is that a return of some of that pluck you mentioned before, Mr. Brookes?”
“A notable amount.”
“You switch quickly from devilish sweet to a miserable rip sometimes, you know that?”
He went to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind. He kissed her cheek. “I apologize if I upset you.”
“Do not apologize. Just tell me everything about this man. Deceit is a transgression against God. Please tell the truth. I would like to find the joy within me again. I had it only moments ago.”
“I do not know what else you want to hear. His Grace is thirty years Emily’s senior.”
“Oh, dear… my husband shall dictate my death. Why did you not tell me at first so I would not make a fool of myself?”
“I have told you the soonest. You did not even have a chance to leave.”
“Oh, goodness gracious me.” Mrs. Brookes took a seat and inhaled deeply, then exhaled. She practiced the same action for over a minute.
Mr. Brookes kept his mouth shut, mindful of his wife’s temper. For a moment, silence devoured the atmosphere and an awkward ambiance took hold. He did not dare to speak a word until his wife gave in.
“What is he like?” she asked in a demanding voice.
“He is a good man. The duke is mature and speaks in a polite manner. I am certain they shall get along well. Our daughter possesses a talent for quick thinking and deep reflection. I know she would use that to charm him.”
“Aren’t there any more eligible bachelors? Someone around her age? A handsome young man of great fortune will be warmly received.”
“I am afraid I have no connection to such bachelors, fitted to your preference. We have kept Emily sheltered all these years.”
“We have kept her safe.”
“Whatever our reasons were, as noble as they were, I fear she may not be socially equipped to do well at the balls. This may be her best option for a beautiful life.”
Mrs. Brookes contained her anger, some of which was for herself. “What shall we do now?”
“The Duke of Humbershire can afford to give Emily the lavish life she deserves, and I am certain his father has taught him well when it comes to treating ladies with respect. His tremendous fortune is a comfort to know of. We are assured that our dearest daughter shall not live in destitution like other ladies who have never found a husband. He is our best option. He is her’s.”
Mrs. Brookes saw his point. She prayed that Emily would learn to love her new husband in spite of his flaws. Lord knows that she had a similar test. “Well, I see we have nothing else to count on. As soon as dawn breaks, I will have a word with Emily.”
“And I will send a letter of invitation out to the duke so he can come and meet our daughter.”
Chapter 3
Britain won the battle against the United States of America. Truth be told, Britain had restricted their ability to trade, subjected their seamen to impressment into the Royal Navy, and resisted America’s intention to expand its territory. Emily enjoyed the study of current events. She read the papers as voraciously as her father did, then followed that by picking up a good book. She knew a lot about the world, even parts of it she had no hope of ever visiting. But what Emily was completely oblivious to, was that her parents had planned something she would either abhor or delight in. They had not decided which to expect.
Sitting on her couch, Emily proceeded with her morning routine. She had the company of a book on her lap, a novel she may e
xtract inspiration from to write another short story. Every turn of the page was an opportunity for new ideas to take hold within her. It was very exciting. The cup of tea beside her was also a delight as it helped to battle the cold.
Out of nowhere, a knock made her door tremble.
“It is me, Emily.”
“Let yourself in, mother. I am in the company of a book.”
The door swung open. “That is hardly proper company.”
“It is if you love books. The characters become your dear friends, and the settings take life.”
“Am I a bother to your quiet time?”
Emily placed the book down on a table. “No, of course not. Your presence is a delight.”
“Oh, my dear child… I love you more than anything else in this world, and I would do whatever I could to ensure your happiness.” She sat on the bed and rested her hands on her lap. “I need to have a word with you. Please be still and listen carefully to what I am about to say.”
Her mother’s voice hinted at something unpleasant. Emily hoped it wasn’t in regard to marriage, fortune, or the rest of her life. “What is it?”
“Your father and I have concluded that, at your age, we have no choice but to entrust you to a man as gentle and faithful as your father has been to me. We have found the perfect match for you. His name is Reginald Webburg, the Duke of Humbershire.”
Emily’s eyes widened in disbelief. The duke’s name did not quite hit the right note to elicit excitement. Rumor had it that he was a man of stern and tedious character. This worried her already. “The Duke of Humbershire?”
“Indeed, it is.”
“But, why? This man is a complete stranger, and I have had no dealings with him. I doubt he would view me as anyone who is even worthy of his time. The duke is a gentleman of great status and my father works for a living.”
“Your father does very well working for a living. He was a good friend of the duke’s father. I am certain His Grace is exceedingly well-mannered, and will give your relationship all the time it needs to blossom. Just think about it. This is for your own welfare. Our souls will only lay to rest if we see you happily married with a family of your own.”
