The Earl's Regret_Brides and Gentlemen

by Joyce Alec

  “Lord William?” She whispered through the dark.

  The shadow recoiled and abruptly turned to face her.

  “Lady Henrietta! My heavens you…startled me.” He took a few steps toward her. “What are you still doing up?”

  “I…was just visiting the washroom. I suppose I was looking for a moment alone. There have been so many people around, you know,” she said. The minister’s words filled her mind once more. Ye shall not steal, neither deal falsely, neither lie one to another.

  Conviction spread through her like fire. She had just done what she hoped other weren’t doing to her and Lord Pembrooke.

  He nodded. “Well, you are entitled to a moment of privacy in this busy time.”

  “What are you still doing awake? I thought you were the first to retire this evening.”

  Lord William nodded his head. “Yes, I was. I was simply parched, however, and needed to step out for a quick drink.”

  “Well, I won’t keep you then,” she replied, her hand on her doorknob. “Good night, Lord William.”

  “Of course,” he said, bowing to her. “Have a good night, Lady Henrietta.”

  She let herself into her room, and both Lady Charlotte and Lady Mary were still awake.

  “Who was that?” Lady Charlotte asked.

  “Oh, just Lord William,” Henrietta replied, collapsing onto the bed beside her friend.

  “What was he doing out at this time?” Lady Mary asked, her brow furrowing.

  “Getting something to drink, I think,” Henrietta replied. “He asked me the very same thing.”

  Lady Mary stood to her feet, stretching her arms over her head. “We should get some sleep, my friends. I cannot believe how late it is already.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Henrietta replied, also making her way to her side of the bed.

  “It is strange that he asked why you were out of bed,” Lady Charlotte said, looking at Henrietta. “Was he suspicious of you in some way?”

  “I’m sure it was an innocent request,” Lady Mary replied before Henrietta could. “Unless you are implying that he thinks Lady Henrietta took the jewels.” At that, Lady Mary laughed out loud, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Henrietta smiled in reply. “I certainly hope he doesn’t suspect me! Why would I steal the jewels that I am to wear to my own wedding?”

  Lady Charlotte shook her head. “That would be awfully preposterous.”

  They settled down soon after, and Henrietta listened to the sound of their quiet, even breathing as they both fell asleep.

  She reflected on her encounter with Lord William in the hall. Did he perhaps think that she had taken the jewels herself? Had he been suspicious? Perhaps, if she were honest with herself, she would admit that she, too, was suspicious of him.

  Could she trust no one? Was everyone just as likely as the rest? Did any of them actually suspect that she had been the one to take the diamonds?

  Frustrated and wishing for answers, Henrietta fell into a fitful sleep, full of glittering jewels just out of reach, and cackling laughter just out of sight.

  5

  The Letter

  “I cannot take this any longer,” Henrietta exclaimed as she stood to her feet.

  It was two days before the wedding, and Henrietta and her friends were attempting to enjoy some peace and quiet outside on the lawn. Lord Pembrooke had gone into town with his father to the parish to speak with the minister about final wedding preparations. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought that preparing for a wedding would be as tedious as it was, and much of the joy had been stolen from her when she thought of the thief and the diamonds. She told herself time and time again that the diamonds didn’t matter, that she didn’t need them to be married, but no matter what she did, she could not escape the fear that plagued her because of their absence.

  Perhaps she was haunted by Lord Pembrooke’s face, seeing the fear reflected in his eyes. Or perhaps it was the anger in Lord Crettingham’s voice that still rung in her mind. Or perhaps even still it was the way that Lord William had openly wondered what she was doing out of bed so late last night.

  She felt as if everything was falling apart around her, and no one cared enough to admit it.

  “What on earth is the matter?” Lady Charlotte asked, staring up at Henrietta. “What do you mean?”

  Henrietta clenched her fists. “This…not knowing! I cannot stand it a moment longer.”

  Lady Mary rose to her feet and came to stood beside her friend, her arm around her shoulder. “Not knowing what? Come now, do try to calm yourself.”

  Henrietta sighed heavily. “The diamonds…I cannot help but still wonder what happened to them.”

  “Whatever for?” Lady Charlotte asked. “Lord Pembrooke said that we would continue the search for them after the wedding. Didn’t you see the necklace that his mother procured for you to wear instead? I almost think that it is even prettier than the first one.”

  Henrietta slumped back into the chair she had vacated. “That’s not it…” she replied. “I just can’t believe that someone has taken them. I mean, who could do such a thing? Do they not know how it torments me, the idea of one of my friends betraying me so? Of betraying Lord Pembrooke? It is just…unthinkable!”

  “I agree with you,” Lady Charlotte said, coming to kneel beside her chair. “It is unthinkable.”

  “But what if you worry for no reason?” Lady Mary added, looking down at the other two. “What if they simply are missing, and we just have not yet discovered them?”

  Henrietta considered her words, and her heart lightened ever so slightly. “Do you really think so?” she asked, peering up into her friend’s face. How much she hoped that she was right.

  “Perhaps we haven’t expended all of our options yet,” Lady Charlotte said. “Are there any places we have not yet looked?”

  “Not that I can think of,” Henrietta replied, looking down at her hands clenched together tightly in her lap. “We practically tore the entire first floor apart looking for them. Remember?”

  Lady Charlotte and Lady Mary both nodded their heads, glancing at each other.

  “But is it possible they could be in another part of the manor that we have not considered?” Lady Charlotte added. “Perhaps Lady Mary is on the right track here.”

  “Where else could they be?” Henrietta asked.

  “That’s what we are asking you,” Lady Mary replied.

  “I don’t know, I suppose we haven’t looked upstairs. I mean, all of the bedrooms have been checked, and we checked our room, didn’t we?”

  “We did,” Lady Mary said. “Looked under absolutely everything.”

  “See? Then we have no places left.”

  Lady Charlotte pursed her lips together. “Dear, I just had a thought. And I do not wish to trouble you with it, so please do hear me out before replying, all right?”

  Henrietta, feeling a flush of concern, nodded her head.

  “All right. What if…in all the excitement of everything going on, in the frustration and confusion, what if Lord Pembrooke misplaced them himself?”

  Henrietta’s first reaction was to be affronted. How could she say such a thing about her betrothed? But as she considered her words, she wondered if there was perhaps some truth to them.

  “Then what are you proposing, exactly?” Henrietta replied.

  Lady Charlotte smiled over her head at Lady Mary, who nodded encouragingly. Apparently, they had not anticipated for her to take it as well as she had.

  “I…am not sure,” Lady Charlotte replied. “Can you think of a place where he could have put it, a place where we wouldn’t have even thought to look again?”

  Henrietta looked between the girls. “Well, he told me that he looked everywhere he had thought of.”

  “What about in his study?” Lady Mary asked.

  “I searched there myself,” Henrietta replied.

  “The library?” Lady Charlotte suggested.

  “No, we spent the better part
of two hours in there with Lord Boyle and Lord William,” Lady Mary replied.

  Henrietta pondered, mentally walking the long halls of Pembrooke Place.

  “What about…his room?” she finally said, quietly.

  “What?” Lady Charlotte asked, leaning closer.

  “His room,” she said again. “Could he have left them in his room?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “But he said that he never moved them after we looked at them that Saturday.”

  “Dear, even his father said that he has been so preoccupied with preparations for the wedding that he has forgotten many things.”

  Henrietta nodded her head. “It’s true…He nearly forgot that he had to go into town today. He only remembered when I told him before breakfast.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt for us to check,” Lady Charlotte said.

  “I don’t know,” Henrietta replied, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I wouldn’t feel right just going into his room to look around.”

  “Oh, my dear, he won’t mind in the least if we somehow stumble upon the jewels in his room! Surely he would allow us if he were here for us to ask him,” Lady Mary said.

  “But he isn’t here to tell us if it is okay for us to go into his room. That feels like a great invasion of privacy.” Henrietta looked pleadingly up at the girls. Suddenly the idea of finding the jewels didn’t seem as important.

  “I agree with Lady Mary,” Lady Charlotte said. “I do not believe he would mind.”

  Henrietta tugged at the lace seam on the front of her dress, indecisive. “You truly do not think he would mind?”

  “Not if we find the diamonds, certainly not,” Lady Charlotte said.

  “All right. But let us hurry. I do not wish to be caught snooping around his private quarters.”

  “In two days, my dear, those will be your quarters as well,” Lady Mary said.

  Her fears assuaged, the three ladies returned to the manor, leaving the pleasant air and afternoon behind.

  The house itself was silent, all of the staff and remaining guests preoccupied in other apparent matters, for which Henrietta was immensely grateful. She knew that she had no reason to feel as if she was sneaking around, for this house was to be hers the day after tomorrow, but somehow the pressure of what they were about to do weighed heavily on her heart.

  A door closed not far down the opposite hall where they walked, and Henrietta jumped, clutching her gloved hand over her now thundering heart.

  "Easy, dear, are you all right?" Lady Charlotte asked, her voice quiet.

  Henrietta nodded. She wanted to finish this endeavor as soon as they possibly could.

  The door to Lord Pembrooke's room loomed at the end of the hall, directly across from Lord William's. A large window was set into the far wall between the doors, the warm sunlight filtering in, and it eased Henrietta's nerves ever so slightly.

  They reached the door, and both Lady Charlotte and Lady Mary looked at Henrietta.

  "What?" She asked.

  Lady Charlotte gestured at the door. "It is your room, after all, you should be the one to go in."

  She swallowed painfully. "Well, it's not mine yet."

  "It's as good as," Lady Mary whispered. "Come on, let's not waste any time."

  She grasped the door handle, steadied herself with a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

  The room itself was darker than the hall, the velvet blinds drawn over the windows. She hesitantly took a step inside and was pleased to find that the scent in the room was rather pleasant, like pine trees and cinnamon. She knew that he loved cinnamon tea, and the thought drew a smile to her face.

  Then the guilt returned. What would he say if he knew that she had snuck inside his room without permission?

  "Come now, let us search," Lady Mary said, pushing her way into the room from behind Henrietta. She crossed quickly to the windows and threw the drapes open, flooding the room with warm, orange light. It brought the whole place to life, with a lush four poster bed now easily visible, adorned with a hand-stitched quilt and a velvet canopy. There was a rich cherry wood wardrobe in the far corner, the mirror on the front reflecting some of the sunlight back into the room. And there was a large portrait across from the door beside one of the windows of a winding dirt road, dense forests, and single carriage on its way at what looked to be a leisurely pace.

  She took a few steps toward it, wondering what he saw in the painting. Was it the ease it brought? Was it the motion? Was it the colors? Henrietta felt there was much more about Lord Pembrooke that she needed to learn.

  "Where do you expect they could be?" Lady Charlotte asked, standing uncomfortably holding her arms close to herself on the opposite side of the room.

  "Drawers, out of sight," Henrietta said, and it was almost as if she heard someone else murmur the words.

  The other women remained silent until she looked up at them.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," she shook her head to clear it. "I imagine they would be quite obvious unless they were put away somewhere."

  "You are probably right," Lady Charlotte said. "I'll start over here in the desk by the door."

  "And I'll start with this little table here," Lady Mary said, gesturing to a small, round table with a small drawer tucked in the corner. She gazed around the room. "Why don't you search his bedside table?" She suggested, pointing to the little set of drawers nestled beside the bed.

  "Good thinking," Lady Charlotte said, agreeing.

  Henrietta made her way over to the drawers, knelt down beside them, and began to pull the drawers open.

  The top drawer contained nothing special—a knife and some extra candles for the chamberstick on top of the table. She also found a slender book. She grinned when she realized that it was one that she had read many times.

  Both of the other ladies made passing comments about their lack of findings, and they all continued their search.

  The second drawer held a letter opener and a few handkerchiefs. Growing more anxious by the moment, she pulled open the bottom drawer and was surprised when she saw it completely full of letters, all opened, tucked neatly inside.

  She immediately recognized her own handwriting, and smiled as she realized that he must have kept all of her letters. She gently touched them with her fingertips, a rush of affection filling her heart for Daniel. How tender and sweet he was, how romantic. And he did not know that she knew.

  Beside her letters, she noticed a different set of letters, and those appeared to be in his hand. More intrigued than anything, she lifted one from the drawer.

  My dearest love, the letter began.

  How strange, she thought to herself. That was not the name that he used for her. Perhaps that is why the letter was never sent? Perhaps he thought it too brash or forward? She bent her nose back over the letter and continued to read.

  I have longed to see you. The nights have been long and the days like a lifetime. I only wish that all of the appointments that I have no longer existed so I could spend my time with you alone.

  That sounded much more like him, she thought as she continued to read the letter.

  I hope you can forgive me for the fact that it has been so long since my last letter. There has been much activity going on with the wedding approaching, and I have had little time to sneak away and be alone.

  She felt a prick of fear like ice in her heart. Why would he say that it has been long since his last letter? He wrote to her at least twice a week, and why did he mention the wedding in such an offhanded manner?

  "What's the matter?" Lady Charlotte asked.

  Henrietta did not look up, but she assumed that her concern was clear on her face. But she had to keep reading.

  To answer your question, yes, I believe that everything is still unknown. She suspects nothing, and of course we both know the marriage is for convenience only. The playful banter between us is no different than a bard’s tale in a tavern. You know that my heart only beats for you.

  The wedding is just in a few short days, and once it
is over, I will send a letter to you at once. We can then arrange a meeting of some sort, and I will simply tell my wife that I have business in town. Then we can finally enjoy each other's company once more.

  Remember that you always have my heart, and always will.

  Always, Daniel

  She glanced at the date of the letter, her heart colliding with her rib cage like a bird in captivity. It had only been written three days prior, and he had used his given name!

  "W...what?" she breathed, holding the letter away from herself as if it was something rotting and putrid.

  "What is it?" Lady Charlotte asked, coming to her side. She knelt down beside her, and with no resistance, was able to take the letter from Henrietta's hand.

  She quickly scanned the letter as Lady Mary joined them.

  Henrietta felt as if she were about to go out of her mind with anguish. Her Lord Pembrooke? In love with another woman?

  "Has he...taken another lover?" Lady Mary asked, reading the letter over Lady Charlotte's shoulder.

  "It appears that way..." Lady Charlotte replied quietly, as if saying it too loudly might disturb Henrietta.

  "I...he..." Henrietta said, the words unable to form properly, taking the letter once more from Lady Charlotte. “What does this mean?” she whispered, pointing to the scrawling script across the parchment.

  The other two women looked at each other, and then back up at their friend. The fact that neither of them could produce any sort of encouragement or wisdom is what made her realize that this was not just a dream.

  The tears burst from her eyes as if they had waited there all along, and she hopped to her feet. Anger and sorrow fought for control of her heart, and the pain was just too much to bear. The letter still clutched tightly in her hands, she ran from the room as fast as she could carry herself.

  She didn’t stop, and she hated the fact that she knew exactly how to escape from the manor. It took no effort to find her way back down the hall from whence they came, and it wasn’t until she collided with something very solid did she look up.