Tempting the Earl

by Wendy May Andrews

  "It is true, you and your father have been sticklers about `good bloodlines,' as you put it. But I think your father's greatest concern was to be sure there was no insanity running in the family," she continued with a little chuckle. "The thing is, Philip, your father's deepest wish was for you to have a happy future and continue the line of Yorkleigh. And when one looks at Emily, it's evident she comes from good breeding. We don't know her true story, but it is clear there is much she has not told us. Perhaps once she's married, she will feel safe enough to confide in us. In the meantime, you must follow your heart. Make Emily your countess. It will make us all happy."

  "You won't mind being the dowager?" Philip questioned teasingly.

  "Not if you make me a grandmother as soon as possible," answered the soon-to-be dowager countess with aplomb as she finished her drink and set the glass on the sideboard. "Now, my son, you have made me very happy, but I must rest. It has been a long day. By the way, have you told Emily how you feel?"

  "Not yet. I have been waiting for the right moment," he answered a bit sheepishly. "And I am thinking Miss Spencer may need more time."

  "Well, don't wait too long. Someone else might snatch her up if you're not careful," she teased as she kissed him gently on the forehead as she had when he was a boy.

  Philip watched his mother fondly as she gracefully left the room; he then lost himself in thought as he contemplated his suddenly rosy-looking future.

  The next morning everyone slept late, and it was nearly noon when Emily made her way to the breakfast room. She had debated about the propriety of eating breakfast so late, but she really wanted her morning coffee, so she made her way downstairs, wincing with certain steps, laughing at herself for such foolishness. When she finally made it to the breakfast room, Philip was just finishing up his own meal and demanded to know what was so funny.

  "I'm just laughing at myself, milord. It was really quite foolish to dance so long and energetically last night and then have to limp around today," Emily explained a bit shamefacedly.

  "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Miss Spencer. You should be delighted that you were so painfully popular," Philip replied with a teasing laugh. "Besides, most of the young ladies in London are probably enjoying a similar fate today, so don't be too hard on yourself."

  "That's not really any consolation, Lord Philip. It just shows that we're an entire town full of silly people," Emily concluded with an impish smile.

  Philip returned her grin, happily considering that he'd have her sweet face to look at every morning for the rest of his life. He watched her as she daintily picked at her toast and sipped her coffee. He realized he was acting like a lovestruck youth and shook his head in disgust with himself. He abruptly stood up to take his leave. He had had every intention of giving her some time for them to get to know each other, but he could not wait any longer.

  "Miss Spencer, when you can spare me a moment, might I have a word with you in the library?"

  Emily was surprised at his sudden formality but managed to maintain her calm demeanor as she replied, "I'll be with you momentarily, my lord" He made a polite bow and smartly left the room.

  Emily caught the inquiring eye of the footman and simply shrugged at him with a grin. He was as surprised as she by the earl's suddenly serious mien. Well, she wasn't worried; he was probably either grumpy from the late night or had something weighing on his mind. Perhaps the matter he was working on for the king hadn't been resolved yet, she thought to herself. With a mental shrug, she finished her toast and coffee quickly and went to knock lightly on the library door.

  "Come in," Philip commanded from within.

  "You wanted to see me, my lord? Is now a good time?" Emily asked hesitantly, seeing him sitting at his desk with a quill in hand.

  "Yes, yes, come in, come in, now is wonderful," he almost babbled, standing up and approaching her with an outstretched hand. Emily took his offered hand and allowed him to draw her forward to the warmth of the fireplace. Sensing his nervousness, she began to feel uneasy, wondering what could possibly cause the usually calm earl to seem so jumpy.

  Lord Philip had Emily sit by the fire before he began to pace in front of her. She watched him go back and forth before her for a moment longer until she could bear it no more. "My lord, what is it? Is something wrong with the countess? You are making me dreadfully nervous. Please, tell me what has happened. What did you want to talk to me about?"

  Philip realized he was being foolish and dropped to his knee beside Emily's chair, grasping her hand as he contritely answered her, "No, no, nothing is wrong. I'm sorry to scare you. I'm just nervous about what I have to say. I've never done this before, you know, so I don't know just how to begin"

  At that uninformative remark, Emily had had enough. "If you don't tell me what's going on right now, Lord Philip, I think I'm going to have to box your ears," she threatened mock-menacingly.

  It was exactly the right thing to say, for it made Philip laugh and got him past his nerves. "Ah, Miss Spencer, you're such a dainty little thing, aren't you?" he teased. He took a steadying breath, grasped her hand, and commenced.

  "Miss Spencer, ever since I've known you, I've greatly enjoyed your company. We agree on most subjects and debate admirably those we don't agree upon. I find I don't want to spend the rest of my life without you in it. I've grown to love you most deeply, Emily. Will you do me the honor of becoming my countess?"

  Throughout his declaration Emily's eyes had grown huge as her face paled. She was shocked by his proposal and blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "But you think of me as a maid. Isn't it beneath your dignity to marry the hired help?" she asked.

  "No, I don't Emily, I promise. I think you are Emily Spencer, the owner of my heart," he declared sincerely. "I realize in the past I've seemed to be hung up on rank and position. I know that's why I fought my attraction to you for so long. But I've realized how foolish that is. Say yes, Emily. Say you'll marry me"

  Emily felt tears threatening to fall as she realized how deeply she wanted to say yes. But she was terrified. She had heard him talking to his mother-he was friends with her guardian and as such she couldn't trust him. But she loved him so much despite all that! What was a girl to do?

  Philip was surprised to see tears spilling from her eyes. "Why are you crying? I hope these are happy tears," he joked nervously. She was trying to frame a reply when there was a sharp knock on the door, and a footman burst into the room.

  "Not now! Can you not see we're occupied?" demanded Philip curtly.

  The footman blushed but stood his ground. "I am deeply sorry, my lord, but it's urgent. The king has sent a messenger; you're to come quickly. He said it's about the Lady Emmaline and Lord Edwin"

  Philip cursed foully, causing Emily to blush rosily before he apologized profusely. He dismissed the footman with the words, "I'll be there in a minute. Have the messenger wait."

  He turned to Emily and said, "I'm so sorry, Emily. This is such rotten timing. I must go see to His Majesty. There must be some new development"

  Emily was intrigued, momentarily forgetting why she was in the library in the first place. She had a sense that her future was hanging in the balance. "Who are Lady Emmaline and Lord Edwin?" she questioned him carefully while watching him searchingly.

  "It's this matter I've been looking into for the king. Lady Emmaline is the missing marchioness everyone was discussing during the house party, remember? And Lord Edwin is her louse of a guardian. That is to say, he was her guardian. During the search we've discovered he is wholly unworthy of that position, and the king has taken it upon himself to be the lady's guardian. It's all for naught, though, since we cannot find a trace of the lady in question"

  Philip heaved a deep sigh of frustration before he took Emily's hands again, drawing her to him. He cupped her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes, noting the confusion swimming there but misinterpreting the source. He lightly brushed her lips with his own and said, "I'm so sorry to have to le
ave you like this; you haven't even given me an answer yet" He laughed ruefully. "Now you will have some time to think about it. I will be back as soon as I can" He then swept her into his arms for a deeper embrace before setting her back on her feet and striding briskly from the room.

  Emily stood there in stunned silence, needing to reassess all she thought she knew and debating what her next course of action should be. Clearly the earl had to be told the truth about her past before she could accept his proposal. She needed to gain access to the king, she thought fiercely. She stood in the middle of the library debating the issue with herself for long moments before she snapped her fingers with a decisive nod and strode from the room in search of the countess.

  Lady Clara was still in her chamber, propped up in bed with a tray, gazing off into space, when Emily tapped on the door and stepped into the room.

  "I was just thinking about you," she said with a smile.

  "Lady Clara, I need your help. Lord Philip has asked me to be his countess. I hope that's acceptable to you" She started, realizing the countess did not know the truth about her history and might not take well to the idea of a lowborn daughter-in-law.

  "Of course, my dear, I'm delighted to have you in the family. You're one of the few young women I won't mind becoming the dowager for. But you seemed rather urgent when you stepped in her. What's the matter?"

  "I need to see the king and clear up a few matters before I can accept your son's proposal. And I must tell you a few things." Emily embarked on her tale while the countess listened in silence with widening eyes. "So I need to see the king right away," she concluded. "Can you help me do that?"

  Lady Clara remained silent for a few heartbeats. She shouldn't have been so surprised, given all she knew about Emily, but she was startled to realize who had been acting as her companion over the last few months. She gave a decisive nod. "Yes, my dear, I can help you. You must change. Let's go to your room and see what's appropriate. Speed is of the essence"

  They proceeded to Emily's room, decided on the appropriate gown and jewelry, dressed Emily's hair carefully, grabbed a wrap, and called for the carriage.

  "Won't you come with me, my lady? I don't know if I can bear to go through this on my own"

  "No, Emily, I cannot come. But you won't be alone; Philip should be with His Majesty"

  "Will they be quite angry, do you suppose?" Emily questioned nervously.

  "His Majesty will be delighted, I'm sure. Philip, on the other hand, may be a bit put out that you didn't confide in him, but I have no doubt he will be fair-minded enough to allow you to explain yourself. It'll be fine. I've sent a groom ahead requesting the audience, so you should be permitted access to the royal presence. Don't worry, and don't forget to smile-the king has a soft spot for beautiful young women," the countess said kindly while squeezing her hand in farewell.

  Emily felt her anxiety rising the closer they got to the palace. She had not been formally presented to the king and his queen, and here she was, seeking an audience. Had she run mad? she questioned herself fiercely. Knowing there was a chance Edwin would be there tripled the butterflies swarming in her belly. Knowing Philip would be there helped to quell them slightly, but he too would no doubt be shocked by her presence. What a mess it all was, she thought rather desperately as the carriage pulled to a halt in front of the imposing edifice that was St. James Palace.

  Elsewhere in the city, the Ladies Eastwick and Merrivale were sipping tea and riffling through their old memories of all the young lords and ladies they remembered from two decades previous. They were enjoying rehashing all the old gossip they remembered from days gone by. They were giggling to remember all the high jinks noble society got up to before they grew up to be staid and responsible parents and grandparents.

  Lady Eastwick hooted with laughter as they remembered one incident involving a young lord who grew up to be Speaker in the House of Lords. "Do you think he ever remembers the time he got drunk and threw up on Lady Bryant? She is the Duchess of Islington now."

  "Probably haunts his nightmares," giggled Lady Merrivale as she took another sip of tea.

  Lady Eastwick recalled another story. "Oh, I remember the last season before my children were born. I was still going to some of the parties, even though I was in an interesting way, wanting to put off the inevitable as long as possible. Remember, there was that gorgeous young woman-what was her name?-all the young men were hot on her trail. She was a diamond of the first water, with wealth and a title thrown in for good measure. And she was so sweet. Baroness Westland! That was her name. There was such a buzz about her before she married" Lady Eastwick was smiling in pleasant remembrance, until she remembered more details of her story.

  At the same moment both ladies realized what they had been trying to figure out.

  "Why, that conniving little sneak!" declared Lady Merrivale admiringly. "By Jove, we have figured it out! We must tell the king immediately!" she declared with glee as the two women stood up excitedly and rang for a footman to have the carriage brought around. This was too good to be delayed. They rushed from the house, delighted with their discovery and anticipating the popularity they would enjoy when it became known that they had solved the puzzle.

  Emily was grateful to see the countess' groom waiting for her to help her down from the carriage and show her the way. The gown she and the countess had considered appropriate was not at all comfortable nor easy to maneuver, and she needed considerable assistance. Once she had extricated herself from the carriage and shaken out her folds, they began the arduous task of gaining access to the monarch. The butterflies in Emily's stomach made her question the wisdom of eating. Of course, she thought, it would not do to have one's stomach growl while in audience with the king. That thought made her smile and helped quell some of her anxiety.

  There were, in Emily's opinion, an inordinate amount of people from whom she needed to gain permission to finally find herself before the ornate doors leading to the room in which His Majesty was granting audience that day. She had already been informed by somebody or other that Lord Philip was present with His Majesty. They would not be expecting her, but this had to be done.

  Emily stood before the Lord Chamberlain and drew a steadying breath. She thought of all she had been through in the past months and the changes it had wrought in her. She had gone from a naive young girl safe in the loving embrace of her small family to a bewildered orphan upon the sudden death of both her dear parents. She knew she had been infused with all the good they could each give her, and they would be smiling in approval if they could see her now. Despite the choices they had made for themselves, they would want her to take her rightful place in Society and would applaud her decision to approach King George.

  The Lord Chamberlain stood at the door, looking down his nose at her in a superior manner, demanding to know her name and title in order to announce her to the nobles gathered on the other side of that door. Emily told him. He barely acknowledged his surprise, although Emily would have sworn she saw his eyes widen slightly despite his iron impassivity. She smiled serenely at him. He didn't look quite so supercilious as he threw open the door and announced:

  "Lady Emmaline, Marchioness of Edenvale, Countess of Spence, Baroness of Westland"

  The previous din in the king's audience chamber died a sudden death upon that announcement. Emily felt the full force of all eyes upon her as she entered the room. She could see the sun streaming in through a large window and was bemused that the weather did not accurately portray the turmoil she was experiencing. If it did, there would be a storm, she thought in momentary distraction. Through sheer force of will she kept a serene, gracious smile upon her face as she bowed her head and dipped into the deep, courtly curtsy she had been taught since childhood. This was the world she had been raised to enter one day. She was proud of herself that she did not wobble or in any other way disgrace herself or her noble heritage as she came up from the low stance and stepped toward the throne.

  Edwin-or
the new Viscount of Ridley, as she needed to now remember him, she thought with loathing-was there, growing paler by the moment as she drew nearer. He was trying to intimidate her with a fierce glare, but she could see the fear in his eyes, and she felt a moment of triumph before her own nerves nudged that aside as she considered all the explaining she had to now do.

  In an attempt to cover his own perfidy, Edwin went on the attack. "Emmaline, you ungrateful child, where have you been? Considerable effort has been put into finding you," he declared with venom dripping from his tones, not bothering to follow the proper protocol before the king.

  Emily, on the other hand, knew she could not speak in his presence. She could not address Edwin's comments before being acknowledged by her king, so she made a valiant effort to ignore her cousin's effort at undermining her confidence. But it did have the effect of adding to her fear. Emily could hear the whispers swirling around the room as she stopped before the throne and descended into another deep curtsy. She remained in that submissive position until granted permission to rise.

  "Rise, my child, and tell us what you have to say for yourself. Is it true what my lord chamberlain just announced? Are you truly the Lady Emmaline we have been searching for so diligently?" the king asked somewhat incredulously but not unkindly. He raised his monocle to better view the proceedings.

  His Majesty certainly would not expect to have the missing heiress show up on her own when he had had his officials searching for her Emily realized, so he was understandably dubious about her claim. Of course, one look at Lord Edwin would confirm that something was amiss with that gentleman. The sight of her here visibly shook him.

  Emily nodded. "Yes, Your Highness, I am Lady Emmaline," she confirmed with pride. She noticed an older person cowering in the background and turned incredulous eyes upon her. "Whatever are you doing here, Mary?" she asked.

  Mary dashed forward and wrapped Emily in a warm, mothering embrace, her tears flowing unheeded down her ruddy cheeks. "Oh, milady, I am so glad to see you! I been tryin' to tell these gents how his lordship sent you away an' all, but seems nobody really was believin' me. Now's you're here, I guess they'll have to believe me, eh?" Mary's tumultuous emotions had a disastrous effect upon her diction, which forced a smile to Emily's lips.