Unleashed Desires 0f A Noble Lady (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Scarlett Osborne

  “How do you think Lord Thetmont will react to the news?” Henrietta asked.

  “I honestly don’t know.” Emma was staring at her hands. “It could be quite startling. To come back from being gone for months and months and find out that your two dearest friends are in love. It has to be quite startling. I don’t know if he will be angry but I could almost understand if he is upset,” Emma confessed.

  “You must have picked up the worrying from Lord Stapleton. Of course Lord Thetmont will only be more than happy for you. He is your true friend, both of your true friends. He would much rather see you happy than worry about being your friend. He cares about both of you so much. You have no reason to worry.”

  “Of course, you are right.”

  “I mean you worrying about Lord Thetmont still valuing your friendship is like me worrying about...about what I was worrying about. It is really very similar, and silly, when you think about all the fuss it’s worth,” Henrietta explained to her friend.

  “Right. Of course,” Emma nodded, “you are exactly right. I have nothing to worry about.”

  Henrietta smiled weakly. “You don’t believe me do you?”

  “Not one bit,” Emma confessed.

  “Well then, I will have to make sure you don’t get a dreadfully awful case of the worries, don’t I?” Henrietta asked

  “I hardly think that’s your responsibility,” Emma insisted.

  “We will have to make up for best friend time sooner rather than later, especially with you and Donald sure to marry and have a honeymoon before you move out. It will be here faster than you think.”

  “Marry? You are thinking so far ahead, he doesn’t even have Father’s blessing yet,” Emma scoffed.

  “You think Lord Stapleton will have to wait very long for your father to bring it up? My father would have sent four letters by now, each with apology for how much time had passed since the previous one,” Henrietta snorted.

  “My Father and your Father are much different gentlemen.”

  “No, fathers are that different when it comes to the marriage of their daughters. You wait and see,” Henrietta assured her friend.

  The prospect of Donald ever proposing made Emma’s pulse quicken in both nervousness and excitement.

  A wedding would also mean a wedding night, when Donald would be able to do whatever he would like with me.

  Just thinking about it made Emma feel dreamlike and floaty.

  * * *

  Emma was never nervous to talk to her father. He rarely called her into private for the purposes of scolding her. In fact, her father rarely wished to speak to her alone at all. Emma considered herself well behaved and her parents were inclined to agree.

  That being said, she wasn’t too surprised when her father sent his footman to request her presence in the library. There was a conversation they were due to have.

  The Westfolk Estate library, on the other hand, was not a place Emma was fond off. It wasn’t terribly grand or inviting, located in the far back of the estate. It reminded her of the private lessons that she was often pulled inside for, depriving her of flowers and sunshine on what were the most beautiful days of spring and summer.

  Her father stood from his writing desk. Atop it sat an ink pot and pen. From a glance at the ink on his fingertips, Emma surmised that he had been attempting several drafts of some document. She was a bit surprised that he decided to summon her in the middle of his work.

  Is something troubling my father? Maybe Henrietta was right.

  “Emma, dear, please have a seat. I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Lord Westfolk said while straightening out his desk. He didn’t act hurriedly and concealed nothing from her of the contents of his desk. Emma didn’t try and snoop but she did see her theory was right. It did seem that her father had drafted different versions of the same correspondence several times.

  Emma smiled inwardly. Her father was never confident in his letter-writing skills. He would feel anxious no matter how important the letter. She recalled him taking several days at a time to draft holiday cards each time the season rolled by.

  Finally, he turned his chair from the desk to face her and sat with a contented smile, far from the look of worry that had creased his brow when he had been sorting the papers.

  “Emma, I can easily assume, but I will ask for posterity. You and Lord Stapleton are courting seriously, yes? This is beyond your normal friendship practices.” Her father spoke in brusque, direct fashion, which undermined the gentleness of his words.

  “Of course, Father.” Emma debated talking directly with her father, she was slightly embarrassed but her father had uncovered her feelings since the night of the ball. Maybe sooner. There was nothing left to hide here. “We have confessed our love for one another and have been courting for several months now.”

  Lord Westfolk nodded knowingly. “I am in the process of drafting a letter to Lord Stapleton. I believe it is time that he and I had a talk regarding your future and his role in it.” Her father was thoughtful for a moment. “Is your courtship going well? I see no need for apprehension, but I wanted to give us an opportunity to speak before I sent the missive off with a messenger. I cannot read minds, after all.”

  Emma was touched by her father’s consideration in this moment. Many ladies had their courtships and marriages discussed without their participation. She was happy to know that her father valued her happiness so.

  “Lord Stapleton has demonstrated himself not only as a perfect gentleman but as someone who would care for me no matter what.” Emma was forced to stop herself from going on, as she was prone to do when it came to talking about Donald. She had a lot to say about how amazing she thought he was.

  Her father nodded astutely. “Good, I am glad to hear that. I have no misgivings about the young gentleman, and I imagine our little talk will go more than smoothly. Still, it is best to discuss these matters with all parties. I don’t want to rush into these sort of situations unprepared, you know.” Her father chuckled dryly before continuing. “Now that the matter is settled, I shall hand off this message and return to my business until Lord Stapleton corresponds, or lunch, whichever comes first.”

  Emma was a little surprised at this. “You are planning on meeting with him today?”

  “Why delay?” her father asked.

  “I ask you not to delay, I am...flustered, I suppose,” Emma said apologetically before standing to leave. “I will leave you to your work, Father.” Before Emma left she stopped and mentioned. “I do greatly appreciate you talking to me on this matter before you sent the letter.”

  “Of course, dear.” Lord Westfolk said as he seated himself again. Emma vacated the stuffy library with a tad more haste than she intended.

  Emma crossed through her family’s lavish home without thinking about where she was going. Her mind was looping one thought again and again. The reality of it had finally hit her, despite the entire courtship leading up to this blissful, dreaded moment.

  Donald is going to propose to me.

  She found herself clutching a window sill to steady herself, facing out the window toward the gardens. Her breath was fast and shallow and she was holding herself upright to catch her breath. It would have been much easier to ground herself if she didn’t happen to be facing the exact spot where Donald had first kissed her.

  Her face flushed at the memory of when his lips had first touched hers. So warm, almost hot. He had pulled her toward him, if ever so gently. But there was a strength hidden in that grip that Emma was desperate to feel more of. She wanted to know exactly how strong Donald was. Wanted him to show her. To take her with that strength and show her how much he loved her. She bit her bottom lip and found her strength returning to her, but not her composure.

  She wanted Donald to appear in front of her and hold her and kiss her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him there so he could propose to her or so that he could fulfill every one of her body’s needs. So he could quench this fire inside of her that he had ig
nited.

  She released the window frame and hurried to her chambers, determined to try and reclaim herself in private. Secretly hoping, and fearing, that she would miss Donald’s visit. She was not sure if she could bear to see him while in such a state. Knowing she pined for him so, yet had this burden that sat on her chest. Something she didn’t think she could ever tell him. She was excited and ashamed of everything he made her feel, and didn’t want him to see any of it.

  What should he think of me if he only knew?

  Chapter 13

  The first thing Donald felt when he awoke was the aggressive after effects of last night’s drinking. The next thing he felt were the annoying knocks on his bedroom door.

  “What? Who is it?” Donald groaned.

  “Helt, My Lord.” Helt’s voice was soft coming through the door, aware that the sound he was making was disturbing his employer by the tone of his voice. “A message has just arrived for you. I would have waited but it has arrived from the Westfolk Estate, and I thought you would be keen on receiving it right away.”

  Donald sat up right away then, immediately regretting the action, he clutched his head.

  A message from the Westfolk Estate?

  No, Emma would not have written him, as he was quick to first assume, that would be improper. It must be from Lord Westfolk.

  “What is the hour, Helt?”

  “It approaches noon, My Lord.”

  “And I am just being awoken now?” Donald winced at his own raised voice.

  “I apologize, My Lord, the staff and myself have tried to rouse you several times, but you seemed quite intent on staying in bed. I believe we both know what has contributed to that.” Donald could hear Helt’s dryness of voice through the door and internally damned the man for it.

  “Have the staff prepare a breakfast fit for a bear. Make sure the message is placed with my breakfast. Then please return, hastily, with a cool drink of water and help me dress,” Donald instructed through the pain.

  “Right away, My Lord.” Helt’s light footsteps retreated down the hall, to the stairway.

  Donald waited to eat enough to calm his rebellious stomach before opening the message from Lord Westfolk.

  Lord Stapleton,

  I am requesting your presence at the Westfolk Estate either this day or the nearest, at your earliest convenience. I consider the matter at hand of quite importance, though not an emergency. Reply is requested. My thanks.

  Lord Westfolk

  Donald swallowed his food roughly. He had thought that Lord Westfolk wanted to talk about the matter of Emma’s courtship. But this letter seemed far more serious and dire than he expected. Perhaps this was about something else.

  “Helt, I need paper, pen, and ink,” Donald said between bites of what remained of his rather large breakfast. But his valet had letter writing materials prepared in the dining room already and laid them out as the dishes were being taken away. “Thank you,” Donald offered absently while he was writing his reply.

  Of course he planned on attending that very day. Either this had to do with Emma, in which case he could think of no matter more important, or it didn’t and one of the dearest friends of the family needed his help, and there were few things more important than that.

  He handed the note to his butler as he supervised the clearing of the table. “Have this sent back to the Westfolk Estate, and then have my carriage prepared.” Then Donald turned to Helt, “I have an impromptu meeting with Lord Westfolk today. It is a very important meeting and I need to look my best.”

  Helt opened his mouth to speak and Donald cut him off. “I am sure I look good, as you prepared me before breakfast. I am telling you I need to look my best.”

  Helt nodded. “A haircut and a cleaner shave it is, My Lord. Shall we change into something a little finer, as well?” Helt asked, prompting Donald to look down.

  “Are you second guessing the outfit you chose?” Donald forced a laugh.

  “Not at all, My Lord, but I didn’t dress you in your absolutely best outfit. You technically only have one of those,” Helt observed with only a touch of humor.

  “Let us deal with my hair first, then the outfit.”

  * * *

  Donald’s carriage had been ready for almost twenty minutes by the time he exited his estate. After some debate, with no shortage of smart lip from his older valet, he agreed to wear the outfit he had put on earlier.

  For the remainder of the ride to the Westfolk Estate, Donald’s mind drummed him over every little thing this meeting could be about. Perhaps his courting had overstepped some good manners in the Lord’s eyes. The possibilities mounted, each one threatening to bring back the pounding in his head that he had just fought off.

  He forced his first shaky steps off of his carriage to steady. He was the Marquess of Stapleton, and here he was acting like a schoolboy attending his first seasonal event. He straightened his back, briefly instructed his coachman, and made his way up to the front door.

  * * *

  Donald waited in the parlor for what would happen next. This would establish the matter of the business at hand. His station would demand that Lord Westfolk come to meet him if it were a matter of business or protocol. If this were a matter involving Emma, then he would be summoned to meet Lord Westfolk, a suitor never outranking the father when it came to matters of his daughter. When it came down to it, this was the moment that decided the course of the conversation.

  The butler stepped into the doorway and bowed politely. “The Lord requests your presence in the library, Lord Stapleton. If you will follow me.”

  And there it was. This had to do with Emma. This was a relief to Donald, at first. Lord Westfolk had trusted Donald with Emma’s well being for years. So why is it now that he has made this such a serious and formal affair?

  Donald had never liked the Westfolk Estate library. It was set up in such a way not to allow for good lighting or air flow, making it a cramped and musty place. He had never gone out of his way to mention this to any of the Westfolk residents, as to not offend. But still, a part of him wondered if Lord Westfolk chose this room for a meeting in order to keep Donald ill at ease.

  “My Lord, thank you for joining me on such short notice.” Emma’s father sat in a stuffed chair toward the back of the library and gestured to one across from it. Donald joined him. “It’s a little close to noon but it would behoove me not to offer you a drink.”

  Donald shook his head, “Thank you for the offer, Lord Westfolk, but I couldn’t so early.” Donald thought it best to not mention that he was still nursing an awful pain in his head from the night before.

  “Very good. Now, I am sure you have deduced why I have requested to speak with you here.” Lord Westfolk’s tone was serious and he leaned forward in his chair to emphasize this.

  “This is regarding my courtship of your daughter, Lady Emma,” Donald said surely.

  “It is, yes. I thought it best we finally have a discussion on the matter.”

  Lord Westfolk was silent after this statement for longer than Donald was comfortable with, finally prompting him to speak. “Lord Westfolk, have you taken issue with me courting your daughter? Have I done something to offend you?”

  Lord Westfolk studied Donald intently for several more minutes before responding. “No, My Lord, you haven’t. What are your intentions with my daughter? What do you want from this courtship?”

  “Want, My Lord?” Donald asked, confused.

  “What are your intentions with my daughter?” Lord Westfolk reiterated, his affect was calm and flat, simply stating the question.

  Donald took a deep breath and felt the words pour out of him before he could think them through. “My Lord, if you ask then I am forced to admit that I love your daughter. I love Lady Emma. I love her from the very bottom of my heart. She occupies my every thought. I regard her with my every action. She is my world. My intentions, Lord Westfolk, are to spend the rest of my life with her.”

  Donald saw a smile spr
ead across the face of Emma’s father. “That is what I wanted to hear, My Lord. What any father would want to hear I am sure.”

  Donald let out a sigh of relief. “A confession, Lord Westfolk, you have just given me quite the fright with your serious demeanor.”

  Lord Westfolk gave the younger lord a wink. “What did you think I was trying to do, My Lord? I needed you to know that any unacceptable behavior would not be ignored simply because we have been acquainted for a long time. I needed to make sure you weren’t taking advantage of the situation.” Donald opened his mouth but Lord Westfolk cut him off, “I know you aren’t that sort of gentleman, but a father must make sure that his daughter is well attended to.”