His Dark Enchantress (Books We Love Regency Romance)

by Chatham, Victoria

  Emmaline looked startled, glanced first towards Lucius and then at Captain Kellen who studiously dissected the trout on his plate.

  “No, Lady Darnley,” she said quietly. “I followed my father.”

  “And what might he have done at Badajoz where Captain Kellen met him?” Lady Darnley arched an eyebrow. “Lord Peake tells me your father was not known to be a military man.”

  So that was it, thought Lucius. Lord and Lady Peake’s invitation had been extended to discover more of Emmaline’s background. A background he certainly wished to know more of himself. He thought of the task he had set Beamish and felt a pang of guilt for it.

  “I wasn’t aware Lord Peake was acquainted with my father.” Emmaline placed her knife and fork across her plate and pushed it away from her. She glanced down the table to where Lord Peake was teasing Miss Blair.

  “Perhaps he can enlighten you after dinner.” Lady Darnley reached for a peach from the fruit bowl placed on the table. “So what did you do at Badajoz, Miss Devereux? I hear it was a quite dreadful time.”

  “Quite,” agreed Emmaline, her voice tight, as if she were holding her temper in check.

  Olivia stirred and leaned across the table towards Emmaline. “I was a m-mere child at the t-time b-but my governess, Miss Tilley, t-told me about it. It was a great b-battle, was it not?”

  Lucius almost leapt to his feet when he saw Emmaline waver. The colour completely drained from her face and for a moment her eyelids fluttered as if she were going to faint. Placing her hands on the edge of the table to support herself, she took a deep steadying breath.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Olivia. Your question quite shocked me,” she gasped. “I hardly think this is the time or place to discuss one of the worst battles of the Peninsular Wars.”

  “But we w-won, did we n-not?” Olivia continued.

  “Barely,” Emmaline said, her lips pressed into a straight line.

  “Barely?” Olivia gasped. “Surely you do not m-mean that we c-could have lost?”

  “If I may interject?” Captain Kellen, his voice low, joined in the conversation. “You must understand, Lady Olivia, the British losses at Badajoz were almost inconceivable. Wellington was about to end the assault. He would have done so too, but Picton’s 3rd Division and Leith’s 5th Division, in which I served, breached the walls at the Bastion of San Vicente and gained access to the castle.”

  “Oh.” Olivia seemed to fold in on herself as if, having an answer from someone other than the object of her query, confused her.

  “But why was capturing Badajoz so important?” Miss Blair asked. Her question hung above the table, clearly heard by all.

  Lord Peake patted her hand. “Communications, my dear. Wellington wanted an open line of communication all the way to Lisbon. Couldn’t do that without taking Badajoz from the French. And it was a very bloody affair. Heard that Wellington cried when he saw how many dead there were.”

  Olivia’s eyes grew round. “Wellington cried? A general as great as he?”

  Captain Kellen nodded. “Aye, Lady Olivia. It was a sight to make any man weep. Even the rain couldn’t wash the blood away.”

  The bleak expression on Emmaline’s face tore at Lucius’ heart. The conversation had undoubtedly stirred something in her memory, something painful and best forgotten and he wished he could know it. He turned to his hostess.

  “You have to stop this, Rosemary,” he hissed under his breath.

  “Stop what?” Expertly slicing a small section from her peach, Lady Darnley smiled at him but the picture of innocence she tried to portray only served to veil the malice lying beneath.

  “This baiting of Miss Devereux.”

  “This is not baiting, Lucius. I am merely attempting to make Miss Devereux comfortable by discussing subjects of which she has knowledge.”

  “And which obviously cause her extreme discomfort.”

  Lady Darnley cast him a green eyed, indolent look, a small smile twitching on her lips.

  “So where did you go after Badajoz, Miss Devereux?” she persisted.

  “With my father to Salamanca.”

  “And what did he do there?”

  Emmaline placed her hands in her lap and looked down, her discomfiture plain for all to see.

  “My father died of his wounds at Salamanca.” Her tone was soft and laden with sadness.

  Lucius cast an anxious look her way, but she did not see it so lost was she in her own thoughts.

  The sound of Sir Peregrine’s knife clattering against his plate caught everyone’s attention.

  “So you were all alone?” he asked.

  “Not quite.” Emmaline cast him a sideways glance. ”My mother’s family took me in and we all did what we could to help.”

  “But not before you were spirited away by a French officer. Ain’t that right, Mr. Hooper?” The smirk on Sir Peregrine’s face stretched into a wide, malicious smile.

  Lucius turned to look at Hooper, who now looked very uncomfortable and ran a finger around his cravat where it sat against his neck as if to cool himself.

  “Well, yes, I did see the young lady with the Frenchie but I saw ‘er with lots of people, me being one of them,” he said gruffly.

  Emmaline, shocked, and about to protest, stopped when Mr. Hooper held up his hand.

  “Don’t worry, Miss,” he assured her. “You wouldn’t remember me. I was wounded and in a bit of a mess in the ‘ospital. You brought me water and changed my dressings. I thank you for that. Many of us did.”

  Olivia’s eyes opened wide and Lady Darnley gasped as if in shock that Emmaline could have done such a thing. At the end of the table Miss Blair squealed “Oh, surely not!”

  “You mean Miss Devereux actually worked in the hospital?” Lady Darnley’s eyes glowed with satisfaction.

  “Well, y-yes,” stammered Mr. Hooper. “She were there every day. ‘Elped the surgeons, looked after whoever she could, tidied up after those she couldn’t.”

  He cast a worried glance Emmaline’s way, clearly concerned that he had revealed something better kept quiet.

  “But who was this Frenchman that Sir Peregrine mentioned?” Lady Darnley asked him.

  “Ah, well, milady, not altogether sure about that.” A frown drew Mr. Hooper’s abundant brows down over his eyes, partly concealing the expression of uncertainty in them. “I was quite turned around for a little while after recovering from my wounds, ya see.”

  “Oh, come now, Hooper.” Sir Peregrine’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the man. “Did you not tell me that after having been seen with this Frenchman, Miss Devereux vanished from Salamanca?”

  The implication was clear.

  With a grim expression on his face, Lucius looked at his hostess and her guests. To their credit, Captain Kellen and Mr. Hooper looked somewhat discomfited. The Peakes were clearly enjoying their dinner and Miss Blair and Olivia simply looked confused. Emmaline got to her feet and pushed her chair back.

  Her face was white, her eyes blazed with an inner fury. It was clear she was holding her temper, but not her tongue.

  “Think on this, Lady Darnley,” she said, her tone cold, “had it not been for the fighting troops and those who helped them, you may tonight have been entertaining French officers at this table and not English lords and ladies. Now, if you will excuse me, the hour is late and I believe I should make my way home.”

  Lucius watched her leave the dining room. Her back was straight, her head high, but he could feel her pain. He turned to Lady Darnley.

  “Oh, well done, Rosemary,” he said, his voice low and full of sarcasm as he got to his feet. “Should you decide to serve me such cold fare, remind me to decline any invitation from you in the future.”

  “I say,” Sir Peregrine butted in. “That ain’t called for. My aunt merely wanted. . . “

  “Believe me, I know exactly what your aunt ‘merely wanted’,” Lucius ground out. He flung his napkin on the table, said a gruff goodnight to the rest of the party and left the room.


  Emmaline’s carriage rumbled away as he stepped out of the front door. The footman came forward with a raised hand, but Noble had already seen his employer and brought his carriage to the kerb. As Lucius reached for the door handle, Captain Kellen approached him.

  “My Lord?”

  “What is it?” Lucius had no inclination to show the man a friendly face.

  “I just want you to know, sir, we, that is Mr. Hooper and I, thought we were invited this evening to talk about horse coping. That’s our trade, you see. We had no idea they would try to shame the young lady. I don’t know what she did after, but both at Badajoz and Salamanca there were men who would have died if not for her care.”

  Lucius calmed himself as best he could. “Thank you for the endorsement, Captain Kellen. I will contrive to convey that to Miss Devereux.”

  Captain Kellen nodded and Lucius watched him and Mr. Hooper walk off down the pavement before turning to Noble and giving the order to take him home.

  He settled himself in the corner of his carriage deep in thought. The evening had been a disaster.

  First, he had allowed his feelings for Emmaline to over-ride those of common sense. What had he been thinking when he told her he wanted her in his bed? He did want her. That much he knew.

  How was he going to solve that error in judgement? If she never looked his way again he would well deserve it. And then, in trying to discredit Emmaline in his eyes, Lady Darnley had succeeded in discrediting her in society. News of the dinner party debacle would surely be circulating before morning.

  As the carriage swayed along in the darkened streets, two things became very clear to him.

  One, her view of London’s society had sound reasoning behind it. And two – ah, there was the rub. However much it irked him, however much he had sworn never to love again, he had to admit it.

  He loved her beyond all reason.

  ***

  In the close quarters of her carriage, Emmaline covered her face with her hands, but it was no good. The expression of hate she saw in Lady Darnley’s eyes and the pleasure in her discomfiture on Sir Peregrine’s face all added up to a feeling of utter misery.

  Miss Stevens touched her arm. “Are you quite well, Miss Devereux?”

  “Just a little overcome by the Prince’s attentions this evening, Miss Stevens.” Emmaline closed her eyes and leaned back against the padded squabs, wishing she were alone to indulge her heartache.

  “I quite understand.” Miss Stevens patted her hand in a most familiar way that made Emmaline want to grind her teeth. “I declare I would have been quite overcome myself had I been favoured by Royalty. Perhaps my smelling salts may help revive you?”

  Emmaline took the vinaigrette offered to her, if nothing more than to prevent further conversation. Inhaling deeply, it surprised her to find the sharp aroma of the salts did indeed help clear her head. She handed the little bottle back to Miss Stevens.

  “Do you feel better now?”

  Emmaline inclined her head. “Much, thank you.”

  “And if I may so,” Miss Stevens continued as she tucked the vinaigrette back into her reticule, “I think the way Lady Darnley treated you this evening to be quite outrageous.”

  “You heard?” Emmaline whispered, aghast.

  “Persons such as myself are on the perimeter of society, but that does not mean we do not observe what goes on or approve of it,” Miss Stevens told her. “My place this evening while you were dining was on a chair in the hall, so I could not help but hear. And if it means anything to you, my brother was at Salamanca, so I understand a little of what you went through.”

  The carriage came to a halt but before alighting, Emmaline reached over and clasped Miss Steven’s hand. “Thank you for your kind words. Goodnight.”

  She crossed the pavement and sped up the steps and into the house. Giles closed the door behind her, but the tears she had so bravely been holding back were now streaming down her face. Not wanting Giles to see her distress, she ran upstairs to the sanctuary of her room.

  Tonight, on her instructions, Annie had not waited up for her and no fire burned in the hearth. She threw herself face down on her bed, her cheeks burning with humiliation, and let the tears flow. In the midst of her misery several thoughts became clear to her.

  Her whole history was about to become common knowledge and could only unfairly impact anyone to whom she was connected. Because of that, any ideas she may have had to lure Lucius into marriage would have to be abandoned. She recalled his whispered words that he wanted her, saw again the teasing expression in his eyes and closed her own as if to shut out all memory of him.

  Tomorrow she would go to him. She would tell him her story and then she would go home to Devon.

  CHAPTER 11

  She did not sleep well. In the morning, heavy eyed and heartbroken, Emmaline went down for breakfast.

  Annie greeted her with the news that Mrs. Babbidge remained in bed with a fearful headache and intended to stay there for the rest of the day, instantly oversetting Emmaline’s plans.

  “Thank you, Annie. Is there anything I can get for my aunt?”

  “If there is, Miss Em, I’ll let you know.” Annie bobbed a curtsy and scurried away.

  Emmaline picked at her toast but managed to drink her tea. As she poured herself another cup the events of the previous evening paraded through her mind.

  What had she done to incur Lady Darnley’s wrath? She had never before met the woman, yet it was obvious from the moment she set foot in the drawing room that Lady Darnley intended nothing more than her total humiliation.

  And Lucius was there to see it. Chagrined even now, Emmaline dropped her face into her hands.

  I am not just out of the schoolroom, she told herself. Why did I not insist that I only attend the recital at Countess Esterhazy’s home?

  She could not deny the obvious answer. Her fondness for her aunt meant she could not disappoint that lady. She sighed and rose from the table, not sure what she should do with herself.

  She was startled by steady thumping on the front door. Following the sound down the hall she saw Juliana, white-faced and in a state of great agitation, rush past Giles.

  “Juliana!” Emmaline caught her friend’s hands, alarmed at her pallor. “Come upstairs.”

  She turned and led the way up to the drawing room. Juliana at first sank onto the sofa but immediately sprang to her feet to pace the floor, fanning her face with her hands.

  Emmaline watched, bewildered at her friend’s distress. After a moment Emmaline caught Juliana’s hands and halted her.

  “Juliana, stop this!” Her sharp tone made Juliana blink away the tears brimming in her eyes. One tear spilled over and hung on her lower lashes. “Now, come and sit with me and tell me what has happened.”

  Emmaline guided her to the sofa again and sat down beside her. For a moment Juliana was silent, swallowing quickly as she composed herself.

  “It’s William, Mr. Beamish,” she blurted, wringing a lace trimmed handkerchief between her fingers. “He came to see me this morning and asked me to marry him.”

  Emmaline hugged her. “But that is wonderful, is it not?”

  Juliana shook her head. “No, because he has not yet approached Lucius. It was most improper of him to ask me so I could not in all conscience give him an answer.”

  “But you love him!”

  “With all my heart, but without my brother’s consent I cannot say yes.”

  “No wonder you are so upset.” Emmaline put her arm around Juliana’s shaking shoulders. “But what prompted Mr. Beamish to take such a precipitous step?”

  Juliana sobbed into her handkerchief.

  “He’s being sent to India!”

  “What?” Emmaline was astounded. “But why?”

  “His father insists that William start learning their family business with the East India Company. Sir Henry says he is not getting any younger and William must stop wasting time. Oh, I am so angry!”

  Julia
na buried her nose in the now sodden little piece of linen. Emmaline swallowed her own misery, got up and rang the bell for Annie.

  As soon as the maid appeared she ordered tea and fresh handkerchiefs. Annie nodded, eyes round at the sight of the sobbing Juliana, and ducked out of the room again.

  “Juliana, you really must pull yourself together. Nothing can be resolved whilst you are being a watering pot.”

  “I know, I know,” wailed Juliana. She sniffed hard. “I cannot imagine my life without William in it and I am so cross with Lucius and these stupid, stupid society rules that do not allow women to make up their own minds.”

  “That’s better.” Emmaline gave an approving nod when she saw the struggle to compose herself flit across Juliana’s tear stained face.

  They sat side by side in a silence occasionally broken by Juliana’s jagged hiccups until Annie brought the tea tray and placed it on a side table. Emmaline passed a fresh handkerchief to her distraught friend.

  “I am so sorry, Em. Please forgive my outburst.”

  “Don’t think on it, silly.” Emmaline poured the tea and handed a cup to her distraught friend. “What are friends for? Now tell me all.”

  “Well, William came in this morning in a great rush. He was expecting to find Lucius at breakfast and was going to confront him immediately.” Juliana sipped her tea. “But when he found me he sort of crumpled. He and Lucius have been life-long friends, but on the subject of requesting my hand in marriage William feels himself very much at a loss. He told me he has loved me since he put me up on my first pony.”

  “What age were you?”

  Juliana’s eyes shone with an expression of wonderment. “Five years old and he just had turned thirteen. Have you ever heard anything so romantic?”

  “No, never.” Emmaline looked down so that Juliana would not see her smile.

  “And then,” Juliana continued, “he went down on one knee and said he couldn’t bear to go to India without me and begged me to be his wife.”

  “And you do not know where Lucius might be?”