“That may be true, my lady. However, if you cannot prove that you were not with Lord Brougham, then I shall have to leave the resolution of the other claim to the authorities. Which I might remind you would mean jail, for at least the short term, a public trial, and potentially transportation.” The man ended on the most ominous note possible, letting his tone drop low and deep to great effect.
She felt the blood leach from her head as it all plummeted somewhere south of her clacking knees. Stubborn to a fault, she pressed on with her argument. “But my lord, either choice is imprisonment. One a cage of steel, the other gilded in gold, perhaps, but a cage nonetheless.”
Cooper growled beside her.
Lord Landstone pinched the bridge of his nose. “My lady, both men cannot be wrong.”
Of course not. Men in general were thought never to be wrong. Oddly enough, both men were correct. But what could she say that was not incriminating in one capacity or another?
Emily wanted to be sick. Very, very sick—all over Cooper’s shoes, preferably.
After she sat mutely for a few moments, her brother finally spoke. “Do not be foolish. What’s done is done. Do not make this any worse than it is. Admit”—he looked furious as he slashed a glance at Cooper—“what has happened, and then we can go home to sort out this disaster.”
She remained in her seat as a dizzy spell swept over her. Acknowledge her ruin? In public? Never. Besides, if the two meddling men had left well enough alone, she would not be in this situation. The ridiculous detective—or whatever he was—could search her person, and he would find nothing to indicate she was the villain. Not that it mattered any longer. The damage to her reputation was done.
Cooper huffed. “Lady Landstone, Lady Emmaline has a small dark birthmark on her upper right thigh on the inside of her leg. If you might validate that what I say is true, we could dispense with this charade.”
Lady Landstone blushed to the roots of her hair, but she nodded. “Of course, I will do so in the name of justice.”
But then Aunt Hortense spoke up from her perch in the corner. “No need to embarrass the girl further. I can assure you she has a mark such as Lord Brougham describes.”
Emily watched the private inquiry agent’s face turn red as he gaped after Aunt Hortense concurred with Cooper and he realized his culprit had just been exonerated.
“There, now that we’ve established that Lady Emmaline is innocent, I believe Lord Dunmere and I have matters to discuss. Lady Landstone, is there a more private room we can make use of?” Cooper asked as a matter of manners.
“We’ll leave you to your discussions here, my lord.” And then she and her husband exited the room with the reluctant detective in their wake.
As they left, Emily felt as if her future had walked out with them.
Once the door closed, silence reigned until they were certain they were alone. Cooper turned to face her, but she refused to look at him as fury surged forward to replace her disbelief.
He sighed. “You cannot ignore me and expect me to go away.”
“If you please, my lord. Do not address me so informally.” Emily’s lips felt stiff as she seethed beneath her calm exterior.
Arthur sat next to her as he tried to take her hand in his. “Emily, please. I believe Lord Brougham saved your life. That brute would have strung you up from the nearest tree.”
She turned to him. “And you. How does it feel to be complicit in the charade that has ruined your sister’s reputation and made Aunt Hortense complicit in your deception, as well as an incompetent chaperone?”
Her brother snorted, slanting a glance at the now sleeping woman in the corner of the room. “Nobody in their right mind would believe Aunt Hortense to be a competent chaperone—one can only imagine what our parents were thinking when they named her such. And what the busybodies won’t know is that we saved you from being hanged for a thief.”
Molten anger burned through the last of her reserves. “By whose estimation? How can you be sure they would have had any evidence to call the magistrate, much less find me guilty? If you two fools had simply followed my lead, this conversation would not be happening. Unlike you two, I was well prepared for the potential consequences of my activities.” She stopped and stared at Arthur. “Wait just one minute. Why are you assuming I would be found guilty? It’s as if you know what has been happening while you’ve been out getting soused and throwing all our money away.”
Her brother shut his mouth and darted a glance at Cooper. “I assumed they would have manufactured whatever evidence they needed. Though I am not”—he cleared his throat—“sure why they focused on you.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Arthur, you’re a terrible liar.”
She rose and faced Cooper. “What did you tell my brother?”
“That I suspected you were taking some rather terrible risks, and I suggested he should put a stop to such behavior.” He made a face of exasperation. “Clearly, I was too late.”
“You, sir, are a bastard, and I regret ever making your acquaintance.” She drew a deep breath. “Now, if you two are finished, I am ready to depart. I suggest you come along if you plan to ride with Aunt Hortense and me.” She started across the room. “I suspect Lady Vardy will be seeking out other transportation home.”
“Emily.” She stopped as Cooper called out. “You shall marry me so we can end this farce and move past it. And you shall cease your risky activity.”
She whipped around. “I shall do no such thing. I told you long ago marriage was out of the question. Nothing has changed.”
She wheeled around and sailed out of the room as her brother sputtered to life behind her. “But you can’t be serious! You’re ruined!”
Both the men in her life could go to hell. She would not be forced into marriage to appease Society.
Cooper turned to Arthur as the door slammed shut, and sighed. “She will realize very soon she has no other choice but to marry me.”
“That may be true, but she will not like it any more then than she does now.” He shook his head. “I fear she is a stubborn woman who may never soften under the circumstances.”
Cooper considered the fury he had seen burning in her eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that where there was passion—even angry passion—he could turn the tide his way. But first, he needed her to agree to the wedding.
“Tell me, Arthur, have you never put your foot down with her?” Cooper was curious.
Her brother offered him a sheepish look of apology. “More often than not, it was her putting her foot down with me.” He gave a soft sigh of resignation. “I’m afraid I was a coddled sort. Emily was the one who kept me from turning spoiled as we grew up. She frequently reined me in when I grew too wild or too demanding. Our parents never denied either of us anything. But unlike my levelheaded sister, I often took advantage of their generosity. It seemed there was always more to come. Of course, everything changed when they died. I learned the truth of our lifestyle and then did my own damage to boot.”
His gaze bore a hole in the floor of the drawing room.
Cooper nodded. “Well, the issue here is that you must intervene with your sister.”
Arthur looked up from the floor in surprise. “Me?”
“Absolutely. For the first time, you, Arthur, are going to put your foot down with that little hellion you call sister.” Cooper grinned and slapped him on the back.
“Indeed, it’s high time you reined that girl in. She’s like a runaway donkey.” Aunt Hortense seemed to come awake with no warning, but obviously she had heard enough to understand what was going on.
Arthur sputtered. “B-but—”
“Enough.” The elderly woman rose from her seat. “If you can’t make her do as she should, then you need to find some leverage to use against her. Family is the way to sway the girl. For once your tendency toward selfishness may actually serve another.” With that declaration, she hobbled from the room, leaving two rather shocked men in her wake.
; Cooper shook his head at the wily old bird. “She’s right, it must be done. Emily is out of her depth. After all these years of her helping you out, and with you taking the reins as the head of the family, it falls to you to help her. Besides, it will be excellent practice for when you marry.” Cooper slung an arm about him and led him over to the decanters on the sideboard.
Arthur chuckled. “I have no intention of marrying. And if I do, I shall marry a biddable woman. One who is sweet and kind. I would never be so foolish as to fall in love with a woman such as my sister.” He preened at his pronouncement. And then realized what he’d implied. “Oh, not to say…”
Cooper huffed. “Never mind that. I like your sister just fine as she is. But I shall warn you, better men than me have sworn the same thing, and none of us have accomplished the task. We have all married handfuls, and I suspect you will be no less fortunate.” He poured two fingers of whisky and tossed it back.
Arthur considered his words and then shook his head. “No, I shall stick to my plan. A biddable woman if I must.”
Cooper simply smiled and nodded at his future brother-in-law.
Arthur stopped. “By the by, should we not tell Emily that the debts are paid? Seems as though it would have stopped this foolishness sooner.” Concern creased his brow.
“With our nuptials looming, I see little opportunity for her to get into further trouble.”
Cooper sidestepped the issue. And it was an issue, but for entirely different reasons than Arthur realized. If Emily was to be his wife, he needed to know she trusted him as he trusted her. He wanted to give her more time to do just that on her own. Perhaps that made him imprudent, or perhaps that made him a romantic at heart. In either case, he didn’t wish to think on it too much.
Chapter 15
The ride home had been quiet, tense. Aunt Hortense had dozed most of the thankfully short distance. Her brother, while never a very talkative sort, had proven especially silent and brooding. And nothing had changed upon their arrival. It wasn’t until the next morning that her new reality began to intrude. The morning papers arrived, and within the gossip columns an all-too-familiar tale played out.
A certain Lady E— was accused of being the Waltzing Thief, but it was proven she could not be because she had been having a romp with Lord B—!
Emily sighed. She had hoped by slipping away from the Landstones’ ball, the gossip would dissipate. Apparently not true. Nevertheless, she would brazen the chattering of bored ladies and lords if it meant retaining her autonomy. Soon enough, she would come of an age where she would no longer matter in Society. She was even willing to consider moving to the country if she could retain her independence. She sighed. Then another piece of gossip caught her eye…
Lord D—, who has been a frequenter of gambling hells all over London of late, seems to have disappeared from the landscape. Could this be a sign of reformation?
A small shred of hope wiggled in her heart. Could Arthur be making the shift from inveterate gambler to upstanding lord of the realm? Hopeful, though not convinced, she set the rag aside and took a sip of her morning coffee. She found the bitter brew to be fortifying, especially when facing what promised to be a trying day.
No sooner had she set her cup down than her brother strode into the morning room. “We need to discuss this matter of you and Brougham.”
Her spine stiffened, and her lips pressed together. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she looked at Arthur. “There is nothing to discuss. I refuse to marry him.”
His deep brown eyes with flecks of gold held pain as his brow furrowed. For a moment, she wanted to take the words back, if only to ease that pain. Clearly, he was worried about her—and about time, too!
“Please, Emily. Be reasonable, I ask so little of you—”
Anger surged through her. “Ask so little? Perhaps you do not form the words, but you no doubt leave all responsibility for this house and the bloody earldom for me to deal with! For once, I am asking you to do something for me.”
“Do not force me to do something neither of us wishes. You have been ruined, and that must be rectified. Lord Brougham has done the right thing. He’s offered for your hand.”
“No, Arthur. It is a no today, it will be a no tomorrow, and it will be a no the day after. I shall not marry that man. He ruined me in order to force my hand. I’ll not be treated as though I am some prize to be claimed.”
“The story is already in the gossip rags. There will be no more invitations, no more soirees, and no more salons. You will be a pariah. Is that what you wish?” Arthur’s face grew red as he became louder with each word.
“It is my consequence to bear. Dear Lord Brougham will be welcomed back into Society with open arms, I daresay. Men never pay the toll for these affairs.” She sniffed and looked away from her brother.
“Your consequence? What of the earldom? How will I ever find a wife? If you remain a pariah, do you believe I shall be welcome in Society? That the hovering mamas of the ton will allow me two seconds—let alone a dance—with their innocent daughters?” Frustration seethed through every syllable he uttered. “This is not a faux pas you can simply weather. This is the rest of your life,” he bellowed, his anger filling the room.
Emily blanched. All she had ever wanted was for her brother to settle down and find a wife. It was why she had struggled to erase his debts and keep the family afloat. But she had no idea that he held any real desire to wed. It was the first he had ever mentioned a word on the subject.
Could she deny him the respectability he needed to move about Society and secure the future of the earldom, as well as his own happiness? Was her pride worth so much?
She looked back at her brother, whose face wore a mask of surprise. Had he not known he felt that way?
“I was unaware of your desire to find a wife.”
The shock melted into manly disgruntlement, as though having been forced to talk about his feelings was arduous. “I can’t say it is something I have thought about until recently, and even then, it still feels a far-off notion. Certainly, one day I’ll need to marry.”
And so, his backpedaling began.
Renewed fury sent Emily to her feet. “Damn you. How could you use my soft heart against me in such an odious fashion? That is unfair of you.”
“Of course, I shall need to marry one day, but if you have been ruined, that will become far more difficult.” He held his hands up, palms facing toward her in a placating manner. “I only want what is best for you.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts to keep from throwing the creamer at his head. “If I agree to marry Lord Brougham, then you will agree to begin the search for a wife immediately.”
Her brother paled as she waited for his response. If he wanted to use emotional blackmail, then she would do the same. It was all she could do to control her rage over his interference and the utter loss of control of her life, again.
He swallowed once. Twice. “I… I—”
“You’ll need to do better than that. Otherwise, I shall be off about my business.” Emily gave him the steely-eyed look of determination she had perfected as a child when Arthur had turned mulish about doing something.
He huffed out a gust of air and jammed his fingers through his slightly shaggy hair. “Fine. I shall commence looking for a wife if you agree to wed Lord Brougham.”
She took a deep breath. Dear God, what had she done? There was no escape from this.
“Very well. You may tell Lord Brougham that I agree to wed.”
And with that, she strode from the breakfast room before the pit in her stomach bloomed into full nausea.
Two mornings later, Emily was doing her best to remain calm as she considered what she had agreed to do. Somehow, sneaking around the homes of the ton to steal jewels during a crowded ball seemed less risky, less fraught with danger, than marriage to Cooper. She knew her temper was to blame for this mess. If she could have been more like the ideal Victorian woman, biddable and subservient, perhaps
she would not be in this tangle. Of course, then she and her brother would likely have been living in some hovel in Cheapside or worse—on the streets—but at least she would not be facing a lifetime in a gilded cage.
Regardless, she was now faced with not only the prospect of marriage, but marriage to a man who, while desirable physically, clearly did not understand her in the least. With a sigh, she finished her morning toilet and went downstairs to try to eat breakfast.
When she entered the morning room, instead of her brother—who, strangely, had been up and about early in recent days—she was rather surprised to find her fiancé partaking of the morning repast. She supposed his appearance should have been expected at some point. After all, nearly three days had passed since she had agreed to marry the lout.
He looked up and offered a congenial smile. “Good morning. Do come in.”
Feathers ruffled instantly by his proprietary behavior—as though this were his home and not her brother’s—she halted and stared. “Cooper. You are certainly visiting betimes.”
“Is it ever too early to visit one’s betrothed?” He studiously slathered half a pint of preserves on a slice of toast.
Emily realized with a start that she had never taken a meal with him. For all she knew, he could have the manners of a hog at the trough. His plate was laden with food, so clearly there was no chance he would be leaving anytime soon. Of course, she would be partaking in many more meals with him in the future. What was one more?
“Don’t be obtuse. You are well aware this visit is exceptionally early. However, I suppose we are engaged, so I’ll cease my quibbling.”
She crossed the room and took up a plate to fill with her own breakfast choices. Thankfully, he managed to keep quiet as she made her selections and sat down to eat. She was nearly halfway through a pleasantly quiet breakfast when he pushed his empty plate away and sat back.
“In light of things, I think we should be married tomorrow morning.”
Taming His Hellion Countess Page 11
