Emily’s head jerked round to witness her mother’s crumbling emotion and honest admittance. Never had her mother uttered these words, and a small flicker of hope breathed to life. Perhaps through this confrontation and their argument only days ago, she might be able to let go of her perceived reality and rejoin life.
“My father’s choices are not my responsibility.” Kellaway turned toward Emily, his message clear. “I will be in London only through this morning.” He stepped to the door and left, his indifference lingering in a slow wake behind.
“Mother?” Emily took a small step, unsure how her mother would react to the emotional upheaval of having her lover’s legitimate son barge into their home and demand attention.
“Your father loved me and I loved him.” She stared at Emily, her eyes glossed over with the teary-eyed confession. “He promised me many things and convinced me they were all possible until it came time for him to make a choice. Then she won. She won out. Still your father assured me he would return. He would make it right. He promised and I believed him and waited. I’ve waited so long, Emily.” Bianca began to weep silent tears. “How long am I supposed to wait? He’s kept us here in a fine town house with no wants aside from one.” A broken sob interrupted her lamentable confession. “Him. I miss him. I want him back. It’s been years and I haven’t stopped loving him or wanting him beside me.” She sobbed a raw sound and as Emily reached for her she pulled away, hurrying to the foot of the staircase. “I thought I could convince him with my letters, but it matters not that you never mailed them. He wouldn’t have come. I refused to see it, but all along he’s loved his title more than anyone or anything. In truth, he chose himself above everyone involved.” She took the first step and then another. “He’s made his choice.”
Emily watched her mother climb the stairs and pain gripped her heart. She’d grown accustomed to the dull ache of knowing her father cast her off as a by-blow. Expendable. Not worth knowing. Yet in watching her mother’s mind deteriorate, she’d fine-tuned her own intelligence and recognized independency would prevent any man from scarring her feelings and ruining her life. For countless years her mother mourned a man who didn’t deserve her loyalty. A man who continued his exploits with little onus of the pain and rejection he left in his wake. Perhaps that was why Emily favored the orphan hospital. In so many ways, she understood the burden of each child’s heart, wanting to take them under wing, protect and ensure they lived a happier childhood than the one she’d experienced.
Years ago, her father abandoned them, seemingly tired of his mistress and uncaring of his daughter. Forever the pain proved too raw to confront, shifting from hurt to anger to rage and at last, acceptance. If Kellaway’s visit achieved that final hurdle for her mother and forced her into a clearer recognition, then every tear was worth the price. Perhaps they could move forward and build a brighter future, once and for all. Hope always provided a path forward.
And like that, it no longer mattered. Emily didn’t care to speak to Kellaway, his purpose realized. Let him take his leave from London. What did it matter? She needed to see Jasper. To find the one man who’d shown her respect and consideration, protection and passion, a man who touched her soul with his kindness and green-eyed adoration.
She dashed upstairs to change her clothes and don her finest day gown. Jasper must know it all by now. Her illegitimacy. Her mother’s embarrassment. Her reluctance to allow a man to consume her heart. Still he hadn’t offered her anything but acceptance and how had she answered his consideration?
She needed to see Jasper.
And profess her love.
Chapter 27
She didn’t waste time walking. After Agnes arranged her hair in a pretty cascade of waves that flowed around her shoulders, she chose a clever bonnet, the exact shade of the gold flecks that danced in Jasper’s eyes. She gathered her pelisse and reticule then bustled to the curb to flag a hackney with haste. The driver did an excellent job maneuvering through the late morning traffic, but still she balanced on the edge of the bench, anxious to be free as soon as the hack rolled to a stop on Bond Street.
Everywhere she looked there was activity to mar her path. A newsboy hawked fresh printed sheets on the corner, an elderly costermonger rolled his cart laden with fresh fruit and over her shoulder she heard the scrape of men at work with iron shovels. Pedestrians, focused on their business of the day, brushed past, spurring her into motion. Amidst it all, words spun in her mind, suggested and revised, anxious to be spoken and all punctuated with Jasper’s soul-searing kisses.
Considering the hour, it seemed likely Jasper would have opened the office by now and she didn’t wish to squander precious time arriving at his apartments only to discover his absence. Her heart beat a rapid tempo as she approached the building and entered.
“Hullo.” Randolph Beaufort greeted her with a wide grin as he rose from behind his desk. “How may I help you, Miss Shaw?”
“Good day, Randolph.” Emily returned his kind smile. “I’d hoped to find Mr. St. David in the office today. Are you expecting him anytime soon?”
“Now that is a fine question considering he’s oft reminding me of my need for punctuality.” Randolph tipped on his heels before swaying forward, his hands in his pockets. “I’m sure he’ll be about sooner or later. Is there something I can assist with? Perhaps I can serve in Jasper’s stead.”
Emily gave a vigorous nod in the negative, the idea startling when she dared recall her romantic imaginings in the hackney.
“Perhaps you’d like to make an investment?” Randolph, oblivious to her contemplation, continued to prattle, although he paused now to extend his palm in an invitation to sit before his desk as if a client attending an appointment.
The words to decline formed on her tongue, but then brighter ingenuity took hold. Without further hesitation she set her reticule to the side and settled before Randolph’s desk ready to discuss business. It could only aid in her desire for competency to establish financial independence, and further serve to motivate the other members of the league to expand their options. What a brilliant idea.
“Excellent.” Randolph produced a few papers and opened a folder on the blotter. “As you may already know, Inventive Investments works as a middle partner between aspiring inventors who need collateral to bring their ideas to fruition, and financial investors who possess an adventurous spirit, fair degree of enlightenment and keen sagacity for the future. Most often the trials of new invention require years of disappointment and redesign. Can you imagine?” He shook his head as if the idea of working so long at something boggled his mind. “And all that research requires funding, of course. That is where our business intercedes. Mr. St. David and I would devote your money to a promising inventor and his noteworthy vision; which in turn would grant you a promise of profits once the newfangled idea came to market. You may not know this, but Jasper recovered the solvency of the earldom for his brother by his sharp-witted and forethoughtfulness concerning the mousetrap. Dash thought him queer in the attic, as crazy as they come, yet every household went mad for the little device once available for purchase.”
“I had no idea of the particulars.” Emily’s grin widened in scale with her growing esteem for Jasper’s accomplishments. In truth, Randolph impressed her with his unexpected, well-versed iteration of the establishment’s purpose. “Indeed, Mr. St. David possesses a unique intuitiveness.”
“Absolutely.” Randolph continued with great pride. “Of course, his brother will tell you a different tale, but there’s no need for discussion of fiddle faddle at the moment. I hope I’ve explained our partnership thoroughly. At times I believe Jasper doesn’t realize I possess an equal conviction for success, but I do undeniably.” He nodded his head as if affirming the statement with himself. “Did you have any singular interest in mind, Miss Shaw?”
“Yes, I believe I do.” She paused, flitting her eyes to the door in hope Jasper would walk through, but the entrance remained quiet. “I’d like to inves
t in the stethoscope.”
“Really? It’s an odd little invention.” Randolph rifled through his desk drawer and removed another folder to place atop the first.
“Not at all. For all our discussion of foresight and recognition…” She removed her gloves and placed them on the corner of the desk. “Nothing could be more important than listening to one’s heart.”
Jasper leapt from One-Eyed Jack, barely waiting for the horse to slow before he tossed the reins to the stable hand behind Kirby Manor and entered the house through the back kitchen. He nodded to Cook who served him a wide smile and continued up the stairs to his brother’s study, hoping to catch the earl by surprise and confront a disquieting item of business.
As anticipated, Dash sat behind his carved mahogany desk, a warm fire in the hearth, a short brandy nearby. The idyllic scene depicted exactly what his brother craved, one of an old title and new money suited. A wife. Security. Influence and wealth. Jasper wished for the same within an entirely different reality; not boxed away in the countryside, but amid the bustle of London.
“Spare a bit of time for your brother, will you?” He strode into the room and stalled on the hand woven Aubusson rug, the pattern yawning toward the fireplace fender in a pattern of leaves and branches.
Dash placed his pen in the inkwell and leaned back, settling into the leather chair as if to evoke patience and prepare for anticipated tomfoolery or charlatan schemes. “I heard you were involved in a scuffle at Hanover Square.”
Jasper wasn’t surprised. Dash kept a close watch on all interests, monetary, social and personal in nature. “Once Beaufort abandoned the cause to seek Kell’s mother, responsibility fell to me as the viscount’s closest friend. Kellaway will always have my affinity despite he chases demons. Still it resolved in the end, although no way existed to cease the gossip once Kell exposed their disagreement to social inspection. Don’t let it concern you as it’s his price to pay.” He fumed silently, aware his splenetic brother would forever monitor his affairs. Yet today he held no patience for Dash’s verbal lambast.
“Your propensity to locate trouble is always my concern.” Dash quirked a sardonic smile. “Although I’ve been told by more than a few gentlemen your office is doing well. This new business of yours is not a lark, after all.”
The words intoned the admittance when against the pluck, still Jasper appreciated the acknowledgement. “I never considered it so. Father taught me well. Albeit I suppose it goes against your inclination, Inventive Investments has secured several new accounts. I see no reason to close a successful business. I’m not here to change your mind or show disrespect. I am happily immersed in business and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.”
This announcement caused his brother’s brows to climb. Dash rose from his chair and approached, his expression unreadable. Jasper refused to blink. He wouldn’t kowtow to the sixth Earl of Dashwood, no matter he was his own living relative and younger brother. No matter he’d regained the wealth needed to keep his brother in brandy.
When they stood a pace apart, Dash extended his hand and Jasper stared at it a long moment before accepting the approving gesture.
“Congratulations, Jasper. You’ve made me proud.” They shook hands firmly before Dash broke free. “I’ve consulted with a few of your clients and inquired of the contracts. I couldn’t be more confident in your ability to accomplish your goal. I may just visit your endeavor one afternoon in the near future and secure a portfolio of my own.”
Shock held Jasper’s tongue a good long minute. “That’s all it took? You might have asked me. I could have shown you my records.”
“And ruin all the fun?” Dash chuckled. “Besides, I didn’t want you to know I was poking around in your business.”
“I’ve known that since before father passed.” Jasper laughed along with him. “Well, with this subject out of the way, I suppose there’s only one other issue that needs attending.”
“That being?” His brother eyed him with genuine interest.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare confess it here in your study. I suggest you set your bloodhounds on the trail with your usual promptitude.” And with that, Jasper left, intent on visiting Miss Shaw and taking care of that last little bit of commitment he’d mentioned.
“And you’ll need to sign this last agreement as well. It states Inventive Investments, proprietors thereof, words, words, words, have to notify you of any change in the design or intention of the stethoscope before the patent is secured.” Randolph indicated a long line at the bottom of the contract with his pointer finger.
How liberating to be an investor in future progress. Emily dipped her pen into the ink and in a flourish of excitement and pride, signed her full name.
“Emily,” Randolph muttered, repeating it twice over, mostly to himself.
“Yes,” Emily answered. “Is there something else?” She reclaimed her gloves and slipped them on, the tinkling jingle of her charm bracelet a gentle applause to her accomplishment.
“Not at all. I’m just remembering a quandary of which Jasper complained ad infinitum.” He chuckled and gloated as if a cat who swallowed a canary, though his jubilant vaunt ended soon after as Penwick entered the office, Mr. Nicholson on his heels.
Emily twisted in her seat as soon as she heard the door handle, disappointment forcing her smile to wane.
“What do we have here? Another sharp-minded capitalist anxious to balance on the edge of invention?”
The earl’s cheerful inquiry boosted Emily’s grin back in place. “Nothing as excited as that, Lord Penwick, I assure you.” She stood up and prepared to take her leave. Indeed she’d already stayed longer than anticipated once she discovered Jasper wasn’t about. “But I do believe in a bright future.” She wondered at how much she’d revealed with the words and the subsequent happy sigh, as the three men eyeballed each other with dubious expressions. “I should leave now.” Full of happiness and anticipation, she retrieved her reticule and made for the door. She’d hail a hackney and find Jasper’s at his apartments. She’d wait all day if she must. “Thank you, Randolph, for your sapient guidance. Mr. St. David is very fortunate to have you as his associate.”
Beaufort preened at the compliment, eyeing the other gentlemen within the office as if to assure they’d heard her words in his favor. She nodded a farewell, her bonnet bobbing with the action, yet she’d only stepped through the door to the street before being set upon by Portia and Thomasina.
“Good heavens, Emily, we’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Portia gripped her gloved hands, a note of urgency evident in her words and actions.
“You have? Whysoever?” She couldn’t imagine anything that would evoke the startling reaction from her friends.
“Cynthia has run off, leaving only a brief note of explanation. We suspect she’s eloped or worse.” Thomasina whispered the news then shifted her eyes side to side as if to confirm she’d not been overheard.
Emily wasn’t sure what fell into the “or worse” category but she’d save that question for another day. “I’m not terribly surprised. I’ve always considered Cynthia’s participation in our league nothing more than an amusement. Her interest in the opposite gender has proven time and time again to be most vigorous and I’ve long suspected her ideas for the future did not run parallel with ours. Where has she gone?” Emily eyed her friends, one devoted to travel and adventure, the other a near bluestocking, dedicated to knowledge and an insatiable quest to learn.
“We have no idea. Her mother burst into my drawing room, a wilted handkerchief in one hand and Cynthia’s farewell note in the other,” Thomasina added in a hushed tone, her eyes bright with alarm.
“Well.” Emily stopped to draw a deep breath. “I doubt Cynthia would appreciate any interference on our part.”
“Then what should we do? We have to do something. She’s our friend,” Thomasina insisted. “We cannot simply forget about her.”
The walkway swelled with shoppers and pedestria
ns, the city bustle too clamorous to proceed with the discussion. Emily waved them toward the side of the building, away from the crowded sidewalk. That same ungrateful tabby skittered over her slippers and past her skirts as they neared the corner, as if to remind she needed to make haste. She had her own errand to pursue.
“I think we should celebrate.” Portia made this announcement as soon as they’d huddled closer to continue their conversation over the din of hawkers and coach traffic on Bond Street. “She is the first of us to throw caution to the wind. I applaud her courage and determination. She’s chasing her dream.”
“She’s chasing a man.” Emily smiled, affirming her shift in her personal beliefs. “For her, they are likely one and the same. But either way, I know Cynthia and I believe you’re correct, Portia. This is cause for celebration. As long as she’s safe and happy, she’s accomplished the league’s goal. We’re not attempting to define happiness or limit anyone’s dreams. Nor should we cast a disapproving eye to Cynthia’s flight of fancy.” Her declaration was cut short as an ornate carriage rolled to a stop near the curb.
Emily’s heart did a little flip in anticipation, but once Portia moved aside and she spied the ducal crest, her euphoria plummeted.
Out stepped the Earl of Dashwood, looking as dapper and tailored as always. She watched for an extra beat, in case Jasper exited after, but sadly the earl flicked a glance in their direction and proceeded into the office alone. The group of gentlemen inside crowded the single room as she peered through the large glass window.
There was no more time to waste.
“I thank you for bringing me this news, ladies. Please keep me abreast of any information. I’m happy to help in any way possible if my assistance is called upon.” She began to break free. “Forgive me for rushing off, but I’ve an important task to see to and I’m already terribly late.”
She adjusted her bonnet with a touch to the rim and then hurried to the curb where she hailed a hack and set off chasing her dream.
Undone by His Kiss Page 21
