A Season in London (Timeless Regency Collection Book 6)

by Elizabeth Johns

“No need to take offence, ma’am. I am only looking out for your niece and dear Jane, of course. He has gained quite a reputation for being dangerous, but that is not for tender ears.”

  “I understand there are rumours about him, but until substantiated, I will reserve judgement, sir. He was my nephew’s commanding officer, and I suspect he was merely showing my niece a kindness.”

  “Bravo, Aunt!” Emma whispered, listening unashamedly just outside the door.

  “Your prudence does you justice, Lady Wetherby. I hope my wariness will prove to be unfounded.”

  Emma could no longer risk eavesdropping, though she wanted no part in toad-eating Viscount Lofton. He made her skin crawl, but her dearest Jane wanted to marry him and saw good in him, so she would attempt to do the same. She entered the drawing room, and the men rose to their feet.

  “Ah, there is Emma now. I believe you were all introduced last evening?”

  “Indeed,” the viscount said as he performed a slight bow. “May I offer my condolences on the loss of Lieutenant Standrich. He was a fine young man who was unfortunate in his commander.”

  Before anyone could reply to this defamation, the door opened, and Jensen announced Colonel Shelton.

  “Good day, Lady Wetherby, Lady Jane, Miss Standrich,” Colonel Shelton said upon entering the room. “Lofton, I believe we could find a better place to discuss my leadership than Lady Wetherby’s drawing room.”

  Lofton’s ears burned red at being caught in the act of maligning Shelton. Emma thought the colonel could have called Lofton out for such words.

  “I cannot stay, unfortunately,” Shelton continued, “but I came to ask Miss Standrich if she would honour me with a drive this afternoon?”

  Emma was caught unawares. She really did not wish to be alone with Shelton, but she was so angry with the viscount, she wanted to spite him.

  “I would be delighted, Colonel Shelton, if my aunt has no objection.”

  Aunt Tilda, whose constitution did not agree with confrontation, quickly assented.

  “Excellent. I shall call for you around four.” He bowed with a curt click of his heels and marched through the door.

  An uncomfortable silence followed his exit.

  “I apologise. It is regrettable you had to witness such a scene,” Lofton said. “Please use caution, Miss Standrich. My only concern is for your safety.”

  “Consider me duly warned, my lord,” she replied, trying her hardest to appear civil.

  “I cannot guess what he is about. I thought he knew better than to dangle after a young miss,” Lofton said haughtily.

  “Perhaps he recognises the charm of Miss Standrich, as do I,” another young man said—quite handsomely, Emma thought.

  “Of course. Please pardon my words, Miss Standrich. I meant no offence to your obvious charms. He is not suitable for London drawing rooms, in my opinion,” Lofton replied, further adding insult to injury.

  “I knew his dear mother, and he will be welcome in my house whenever he chooses, Lofton, unless you wish to go into further detail?” Lady Wetherby said, clearly trying to put an end to the slanderous insinuations about Shelton.

  “Yes, Lofton,” one of the other gentlemen agreed. “Best leave your grievances with Shelton to the club or the battlefield.”

  Emma wished Lofton would leave. His posturing had spoiled the mood of the morning, and if he continued, she feared her aunt would forbid her to see Shelton.

  “We must take our leave now. Thank you for the lovely ball last evening, Lady Wetherby. Lady Jane, may I also drive you in the park this afternoon?”

  Lady Jane dutifully looked at her mother, who gave a proud nod.

  “I shall call for you at the usual time,” he said with an arrogant air as he took a pinch of snuff and snapped the lid of his snuffbox closed. He brushed back a brown curl from his brow and adjusted his sleeves.

  “I shall be ready,” Jane assured him, though he paid little regard as he and his friends took their leave.

  “That was most unfortunate!” Aunt Tilda exclaimed. “I wonder, what could it all mean?”

  “I do not know,” Jane said. “I was afraid someone would slap a glove in the other’s face!”

  “Is Colonel Shelton’s reputation limited to the battlefield?” Emma queried.

  Lady Wetherby wrinkled her brow in deep thought. “I suppose it must be. He has always had a mysterious manner about him, but he has been a soldier so long, it is difficult to remember.” She held up her finger as a memory struck her. “There was some incident a few years ago, involving Shelton, his brother, and someone else. I cannot recall the details or who the third party was, but it resulted in him being disinherited.”

  “But he is still accepted in society? It makes little sense,” Jane reasoned.

  “It was kept very quiet, and considered a private matter. Of course he is accepted—he is a Shelton. It is he who chooses to ignore society, so it is a positive coup if he attends anything.”

  “Then why is he someone I should be kept away from?” Emma asked.

  “Because the rumour is he has no money and he is too handsome for temptation!” her aunt said, as if stating the obvious.

  Emma could see her aunt’s point, but her brother had always had nothing but praise for his commander, and she desperately needed information from him. She was more certain than ever that something foul had happened to Christopher, and she might not have many chances left to speak with the colonel.

  Colin could have stayed, but he did not wish to put himself in Lofton’s presence unnecessarily—especially not after he happened upon him maligning his name to an attentive drawing room. How he wished this dreadful ordeal would be over, and, if all went well, he would never hear the name Lofton again.

  Had the brother and father not died in a horrific accident, one in which the circumstances had been most suspicious, Melvyn would not now be Lofton. And yet, he had chosen to stay in the army instead of returning to run his estate. Not that it was unusual to have peers in the army, but Melvyn had never been one to sully his fingers if there was an easier way to obtain his object. Melvyn had always been fond of gambling, and an officer’s pay would hardly afford a heavy habit—which was why Colin was overly suspicious of everything Lofton did. While Melvyn might not be in his regiment any longer, he was in Colin's division and thus he knew almost every move the viscount made.

  There were also many unanswered questions where Christopher Standrich was concerned, and he owed it to the Standrich family to see them resolved. He had not counted on the sister’s involvement, however. It would seem Lofton was courting the heiress cousin, and it was too convenient for Colin’s comfort. Emma Standrich was no simpering miss, and had a sharp eye. Colin was tempted to warn her, but he did not want her to be in danger as well. He felt an unusual wave of protectiveness for this girl who he barely knew.

  He went straight from the Wetherby house to Whitehall. Something had to be done quickly if Lady Jane was the next intended victim. He asked to see his superior and was shown into an anteroom while the clerk enquired if his lordship was available. Less than five minutes passed before he was shown to an office at the end of a long, dim corridor. In contrast, the office was spacious, flooded with daylight from a large window and furnished for taste as well as function.

  “Thank you for seeing me, sir,” he said, bowing.

  “What has you troubled, Shelton?” The elder man looked at him over his spectacles.

  “It appears Lofton is intent on courting Lady Jane.”

  “Yes, yes. Along with half a dozen other suitors.” He waved his hand dismissively.

  “But you, of all people, know what he is capable of!” Colin protested.

  “I am hardly in a position to tell a Peer of the Realm to decamp when I have no proof of his nefarious activities. What I do have are some very serious theories and accusations based on seeing the body of a smuggler some years prior and the untimely death of his father and brother, God rest their souls.”

 
“And what of the leaked information? Is treason not enough to give you pause?”

  “You know very well we have not been able to pin it directly on him. I will say he is very clever, and there are a number of coincidences where he is concerned.”

  “I beg of you to use caution, then. You may not know him as I do, but it will eventually all come out, and you do not want your name—or your daughter—anywhere near that man.”

  “Thus far he has done nothing more than ask to call on her. I will do my best to refrain from any further private audiences with him.”

  “Thank you, sir. I can ask for no more.” Colin turned to leave, but paused with his arm stretched towards the handle. “It would be quite the coup de grȃce for him to secure your daughter.”

  Colin turned to see a proud father's smile.

  “But for her inheritance or to force the Crown into a pardon?”

  Colin gave a curt nod and left, feeling guilty for the frown he left on his superior’s face.

  Chapter Three

  Emma straightened her bonnet for the fifth time while she waited for Shelton to call. She still had no idea what she should ask him or if she should tell him what Christopher had written. She could not allow any wrong-doing to be attributed to her brother without proof.

  Jensen finally sent a footman to tell her the colonel had arrived. She walked hurriedly down the stairs to meet him, hoping to avoid another quarrel with Viscount Lofton.

  “Good afternoon, Colonel Shelton,” she greeted him, as she reached the bottom step.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Standrich. I brought my phaeton. I trust you are not afraid of heights?”

  “No, sir. I have always rather fancied a ride in one, thank you.”

  He helped her climb into the lofty conveyance. He had a lovely pair of high-stepping greys harnessed to it, and he evidently noticed her admiring them, for when he joined her on the seat, he asked, “Do you know horses well, Miss Standrich? Your brother was an excellent judge of horse flesh.”

  She shook her head. “I know only what Christopher taught me, which was very little.”

  “He chose this pair for me. They are the finest horses I have ever owned—not to be disloyal to my trusted battle steed.” He pulled into the street and managed the team with ease through the traffic.

  “But those are a different type of horse altogether, are they not?”

  “Yes.” He paused, and the silence alerted her to the nearness of this large man, and she was acutely uncomfortable. She had never been this close to a man, and she could feel her hands perspiring inside her gloves. She must force herself to be bold.

  “Colonel Shelton, about my brother . . . Could you please tell me why he died that day? It makes little sense to me.”

  “I am very sorry for your loss, Miss Standrich. He was a fine soldier, but soldiers die all the time, even when they are not fighting a big, glorious battle.” His voice held a hint of sarcasm, and he kept his gaze on the horses as they neared the gate to the park.

  “How did he die? And why was his discharge not listed as honourable?”

  Colonel Shelton pursed his lips and then exhaled audibly. “His death is still under investigation. I am not certain we should be speaking of this. What good will come of it? It will not bring him back to either of us.”

  “Please,” she whispered. “I need to know.”

  He drove through the crowds before answering. He slowed the phaeton to a walk, drew the horses over to the side of the path, and thence to a stop. He turned slightly to look at her. “You need only know that Christopher did nothing wrong.”

  “It is not enough,” she said, staring down at her gloved hands.

  He looked away for some time, in silence. “This shall go no further, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. Her hands trembled.

  He considered her, his expression so piercing she could almost feel it, and then gave a slight nod before looking away again. “I sent him to deliver a message to”—he paused—“never mind to whom. I sent him with a message, and he must have been intercepted or delivered it to the wrong person. At least, I deduce such because the intended person never received the message.”

  “So my brother has taken the blame for the wrong outcome of this message,” she surmised.

  “Yes. It is my hope that I am able to clear his name while I am here. There is suspicion of a spy, and some have bandied about the theory that Christopher was on his side.”

  “Christopher, a spy? Never!” she said, her voice raised in disgust.

  “Hush, woman!” he commanded harshly, and she could feel the presence he must have with his men on the field. “I apologise for speaking roughly, but there is still danger until the spy is discovered. I did not suspect any imminent threat when I sent Christopher away with the message. And I should not have mentioned so much. The less you know, the safer you are.”

  “Do you know who the spy is?” she asked.

  “I have a very good idea, but I must have solid proof. I had no intention of revealing any of this to you. My only intention was to see if you were in need. Your brother had requested to sell his commission so he could return to care for the family.”

  Emma had to brush a tear away from her eye and hoped he did not notice.

  “We will manage.”

  “But you are taking on a position to care for them, are you not?”

  “My mouth runs away with me sometimes. I wish I had not said anything.”

  “Will you allow me to help you? I promised your brother I would give assistance if ever there was a need.”

  “It would not be proper, Colonel Shelton. You are very kind,” she said, barely masking her offence. Next, would he wish to show her a quaint little cottage—where he happened to keep his mistresses?

  “I can see by the look on your face you mistake me.”

  Emma’s cheeks flushed pink. She felt the warmth of it.

  “You may have heard my brother and I had a disagreement many years ago, and I was disinherited.”

  “I did hear something of that nature,” she confessed.

  “I do not have a grand estate or title as my brother has, but I am not without means. I inherited property from my mother and a more than modest cottage to accompany it. I am rarely ever in England, as my duties take me abroad most of the time. In effect, Miss Standrich, I am offering you my name and income so you may provide for your family.”

  “Do you mean . . .”

  “I mean I am asking you to be my wife.”

  “While I am flattered, I am sure, I do not understand, Colonel Shelton. Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I have no need of it, and you do,” he stated simply.

  “I see,” she said as she struggled for words. Then she noticed another vehicle approaching.

  “You need not answer me today,” Shelton added. “Think about it.”

  “Here comes Jane with Lord Lofton,” Emma replied.

  “Devil take it,” she heard Shelton whisper under his breath.

  “Miss Standrich, Colonel Shelton,” Lord Lofton said as he pulled his vehicle next to theirs.

  Jane sat prettily next to the viscount and must have noticed the look on Emma’s face. “Cousin, is something amiss?”

  “No, no. I assure you I am quite well. We were only speaking of Christopher.”

  “Such a tragedy,” the viscount said, clicking his tongue.

  “If you will excuse us, I have kept the horses standing for too long,” Shelton said loudly. “Enjoy your outing, Lady Jane, Lofton.” He tipped his hat to them and flicked the whip.

  Shelton and Emma rode in silence throughout the remainder of the drive back to the town residence, a journey which left Emma in complete confusion.

  “I will call on you tomorrow,” he said sternly as he handed her down from the conveyance.

  She nodded and answered distractedly as she attempted to sort her thoughts. “Thank you for the drive.”

  “Emma, Emma, Emma!
” Jane exclaimed breathlessly as she burst through the door to her cousin’s room some time later.

  “What has happened, Jane?” Emma asked worriedly. She sat up on her bed, where she had been staring at the canopy while trying to sort out her thoughts.

  “Oh, so much,” she exclaimed, “but I want to hear what happened with you first. You looked very upset, and I want to know what Shelton said to you.”

  “I still do not know quite what he said. I am bewildered.”

  “Then tell me what you can remember,” her cousin urged. She untied her bonnet and kicked off her kid half-boots before she joined her cousin on the bed.

  “Well, first, we discussed Christopher.”

  “Did you tell him about the letter?”

  “No, but I did ask him about the circumstance of Christopher’s death not being during action and his discharge.”

  “And?”

  “He was rather evasive, really. He said many soldiers die away from the battlefield,” Emma responded, recalling Shelton’s words of warning and quickly omitting certain details.

  “That is most unkind in him,” Jane said, frowning. “I wanted to know who the mysterious ‘F’ was.”

  “He did not want to discuss much and said it was for my safety, so perhaps you had best not discuss it either, other than with me.”

  “Very well,” she agreed. She looked a little worried.

  “Then he offered me his name and his income to support my family.”

  “Well that was very handsome of him!”

  “Was it?” Emma asked doubtfully.

  “Of course it was! Now you will not have to work,” Jane pointed out.

  “I know very little about him other than from Christopher’s letters, and his reputation concerns me.”

  “Oh, pish! If he will never be home and is willing to provide for you, then I say it sounds a match made in heaven.”

  “Maybe,” she said warily.

  “I take it you did not answer him?”

  “No. He told me to think on it and he would call tomorrow.”

  “A quandary, indeed, for you. I know what I would say.”

  “I wish I could speak with my mother,” Emma mused.