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

by Scarlett Osborne

  Emma was aghast at the idea that Donald would ever think something like that about her. She would never act in such a fashion and the only thing that was stopping her from decrying the accusation was the emotions closing her throat. She barely managed to choke out. “Donald I would nev—” She had to stop to fight back a sob.

  Before she could attempt to speak the sentence again, she found herself enveloped by Donald. His arms surrounded her and he pulled her tearful face against his strong chest. She inhaled deeply, preparing for another sob, and smelled the special perfume that Helt had created for his Lord’s clothes, the mix of apple blossom and rosewater that she now only associated with Donald. The smell calmed her.

  “I know, dearest one,” Donald said. “I am sorry I had to ask something so horrible. I know you would never lie to me in such a way.”

  Guilt flooded Emma’s face which only prompted her to bury it deeper into Donald’s chest. She cried longer and harder until she felt she had no more tears left to cry. She was ashamed at how damp she had made the front of his shirt. She was going to pull away, to hide her tear streaked face from him. To hide the ugliness of her emotions from the man she loved, when she felt his hand lift her chin.

  Donald looked her in the eye and Emma felt all the pain and anguish melt away. The only thing she could see in those eyes was deep, meaningful, and forgiving love. One that she would have forever.

  Kiss me, Donald. Kiss me and take my pain away.

  He leaned in close and their lips met. Donald was gentle at first, only barely brushing her lips with his, but soon Emma pushed forward to seek out more of him and he was quick to reciprocate.

  Emma felt herself go limp as she was overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions, first the accusation and then the kiss. Donald quickly caught her, breaking the kiss only to support her in his arms, but Emma used what strength she had to kiss him again and again. Their lips met sweetly, gently each time in a series of loving, caring kisses.

  Emma squirmed gently in his grasp as her strength returned to her. Not to break free, there was nowhere else she wanted to be more than here at this moment. She was moving because the heat of her body mingled with Donald’s and she could feel herself growing hotter still. She wanted to pull away in embarrassment, but at the same time she wanted to be as close to him as she possibly could.

  After what seemed like an eternity she heard him whisper into her ear, “Are you well enough to stand, my love?” She nodded and reluctantly left the embrace of his arms.

  “I am sorry we had to discuss that. Perhaps I was too hot headed about the matter...with the stress of the business on my shoulders I have found myself acting rashly of late,” Donald admitted.

  “A gentleman in your position must sometimes question even those closest to him. I won’t deny that I was hurt, but I understand your need to ask such questions. Pray that you ask them sooner rather than let them steep and roil in that poor head of yours.” Emma smiled lightly and ran her hand over his cheek, his stubble rough against the soft skin of her hand.

  “If you desire, we can rearrange the timing of the marriage, it would be of little inconvenience for my parents.” Donald assured her.

  Emma had to hold back a chuckle. “Sorry, I truly appreciate your consideration, I laugh only because I was moments away from offering the same thing.” She smiled wider now and embraced him again. “I don’t want to wait if you don’t want to. I still want to be married as soon as we possibly can be.”

  And together as man and wife as soon as we possibly can be.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Donald said as he reluctantly pulled away for the last time and straightened himself. “I must return to finish up the work for today. As you know final travel accommodations will be made tomorrow and we leave the day after. I will be counting the moments until I see you again.”

  Donald gently kissed Emma one last time before departing, leaving her feeling empty and alone.

  * * *

  Emma returned to her family’s breakfast, taking her seat next to her father’s place at the head of the table. She wondered if anyone noticed the redness and puffiness of her face and could tell that she had been crying.

  Her father turned to ask her how she was feeling, but she gave him such a look of cold anger that he returned quietly to his breakfast. Emma finished her meal in silence, all but ignoring the light conversation the rest of her family entertained. She had lost her appetite.

  She wished she could enjoy her breakfast. This was one of the last meals she would be eating in the Westfolk Estate in London, since she was moving out to live with her husband.

  Her years of living here had taught the chef every little nuance of cooking she liked, so many of the meals were specially catered to her. She would miss that. She would miss the staff and their holiday parties. She would miss the beautiful garden that she had known since she was a child. Perhaps the one silver lining was that she was almost as familiar with the estates that Donald’s family held, having visited them so often as a child and young lady.

  But now her anger made the exquisite food tasted like nothing in her mouth.

  It didn’t help that she wasn’t sure where to place her anger. She thought she was mad at her father. She hadn’t known about this debt, a debt apparently sizable enough for her betrothed to hear about it in passing. He had put her in a position where she had to have a shameful and humiliating discussion with her beloved.

  To make a concession, as reluctant as Emma felt to do, her father had never discussed finances with her. Why would he start now? Did he know that his private affairs had become the talk of the business community?

  Emma knew she had many reasons to not wholly blame her father, but still that anger and shame burned inside her and it was a struggle to sit next to him. After she had chewed and swallowed her last bite, she stood abruptly and excused herself from the table.

  Chapter 22

  The footmen bustled to and fro from the Stapleton Manor to the carriages outside. There were four in total. The ones in the front and back belonged to Donald. The leader of the train was Donald’s personal carriage and his spare brought up the rear to accommodate the valets and lady’s maids.

  The front carriage consisted of Matthew and Donald, Donald’s coachman leading the way since he was the one who most frequently traveled to the Duke’s estate. It had been debated whether Emma would ride with her dear friends, as it would make the six-hour trip go by much faster for the three of them, but it was decided that it would be more proper for Emma to ride elsewhere.

  Normally, she would ride in the third carriage with the Dowager and Lady Henrietta but her parents thought it would be more proper for her to ride with them so they could greet the Duke and Duchess all at once.

  Donald sighed and rested his head against the cool dark wood of the carriage’s interior. All the last minute scrambling with the Atlantic Animal Fur Company and planning for the trip had left him with a throbbing headache. The only relief he got were his thoughts of Emma. Thoughts that were frequently interrupted by Matthew.

  “Perhaps there are assets we could assess for sale to generate extra funds?” Matthew suggested. Donald didn’t even acknowledge the suggestion with words, just dismissed it with a half-hearted wave. All their work and research the last week had been for naught, as they were no closer to a solution to their supply problem. Donald cared for his friend dearly but found Matthew’s attempts to not be as genuine as he would like. He had even begun to think that Matthew’s suggestions were more to point out how few options they had rather than trying to be helpful.

  “We will be departing in just a few scant minutes M’Lord.” Donald’s coachman informed him through the window as he climbed the front of the carriage.

  “This is it,” Matthew said with a deep breath.

  “Thank the heavens. I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks. I could get married while stepping off the carriage at this point,” Donald said.

  “Are you sure it is wise to ge
t married now, though?” Matthew questioned.

  “Have we not settled this already? I feel like we have talked this point to death. Besides, we are far past the point of no return now, are we not?”

  “I am just saying, there was nothing wrong with putting off the wedding for a month or two, just until you have a firmer hold on your finances. There is no shame in that,” Matthew assured Donald. “No shame in making sure you have the means to care for your new wife.”

  “And I have told you, Matthew that I have weighed the pros and cons and I would like to be married to my love without wait. Surely you can attend to the business for two weeks while I marry and treat my wife, your best friend, to her honeymoon,” Donald said, snapping more than he intended to.

  Matthew stared at Donald and after a moment he apologized. “I am sorry, Matthew, I know you are just being thoughtful. I am very concerned over the state of things, I assure you. I simply wish to allow my private life to commence without having to worry about things out of my control.”

  “I understand, my friend. You are under a type of stress I have never endured. I couldn’t possibly understand what you are going through,” Matthew said while assuredly patting his friend’s shoulder.

  Before more could be said on the matter there was a call from Donald’s coachman and all carriages made their way into the streets of London. It would be an hour before they were out of the city. And then five more hours of beautiful, if slightly monotonous countryside.

  * * *

  Emma had been looking forward to the trip to the Duke of Derbourg’s Estate until just a couple of days ago. She saw it as the perfect summation of her love for Donald, marrying in the place she had spent some of her most happy youthful times with him.

  But, instead, she was incredibly frustrated. For a brief time she thought she might be able to ride with her betrothed, but her parents insisted that she ride with both of them.

  Now she sat across from her father staring daggers at him. She had done a moderately successful job avoiding him in the estate for the last couple of days, even going as far as to feign illness and take several of her meals in her room. When there had been strong talks about postponing the trip until she felt up for traveling, she underwent a miraculous recovery.

  Her father was looking over several ledger bound in leather dyed black and maroon. The ledgers must have been recent as her father’s sweaty hands caused the books dye to leach and Emma could smell the pungent odor of it from across the carriage.

  “Father, are those your finance ledgers you are looking over?” Emma asked, trying to sound as innocent as she could. She knew it would be difficult to avoid suspicion for long though, as she had never before asked about her father’s business. Not to mention that her father would have to be completely unaware of the world around him to not know she had been upset with him.

  “Hm?” he asked, looking up over the thin frames he wore for reading fine print with that oblivious look he usually wore. “Ah yes. The black book is profits, you see, and the red one is costs. I am, um, I am just trying to double check to make sure everything balances out. Normally, I would consult the central ledger but I am going through to make sure that there are no inconsistencies,” he said while resting the books in his lap. “I knew we had few hours and I have never been one to get sick while reading in a carriage so it seemed as good of an opportunity as any.”

  “And how is everything balancing out?” Emma asked and her father quirked a brow. Even the Countess, who had been enjoying the view before now turned towards the conversation, her brow quirked and her lips pursed in concern. This was not like Emma.

  “Fine, of course, dear. Why are you asking such a peculiar question?” her father asked her without hesitation.

  Emma pursed her lips in anger but she kept herself in control. “Father, I heard a rumor that you are currently deeply in debt. Is this true?”

  The silence that followed was oppressive and almost tangible, like a great weight had settled on them. One that could only be lifted by the person willing to make the next move.

  The Earl of Westfolk stared at his daughter, mouth agape. “Where did you hear that?”

  “I will not say,” she said, bristling. “I am frustrated, Father. I know you are under no obligation to inform me of your goings on, but did you not think about how my betrothed might feel if he were to find out about this?” Emma asked while she tried to conceal that Donald was the one to bring it to her attention. The last thing she wanted was her father to try and explain the situation to Donald as some sort of justification.

  Emma’s father’s face turned several different colors. She saw that he too became angry, but that anger soon dissipated. “I am sorry, my dear. I prayed that we would get through the marriage before my debts became more public knowledge, but I should have known that nothing moves faster than gossip in London.”

  “Why were you trying to hide it, Father?” Emma asked. “Did you want to trick Donald into taking on the debts of his wife’s family?” she tried to hide the accusation in her voice, wanting to give her father a chance to justify his actions.

  “Heavens no, dear heart. No, I hid my debt because I was ashamed. I was so happy that you and Donald were able to finally admit your love for one another and didn’t want Donald to think that I was trying to arrange a marriage simply to solve my financial problems. I would never ask that of Donald or any of his family, and I would never want him to suspect it of me. Which is why I tried to keep the debt a secret for as long as I could,” he sighed.

  There was an awkward silence that filled the cabin. Emma could understand why her father would keep something like that from her. Still she was greatly upset at having to discuss it with Donald on the terms that she had to. Emma’s pride kept her from accepting her father’s apology.

  It was Emma’s mother that broke the oppressive air that was quickly mounting. “I don’t think your Father meant any harm, dear. Quite the contrary, I believe he meant to protect you. If it had become public knowledge, then you could have had a very difficult time with courtship. We spoke on the matter, and I thought it was the right thing to do. I still do.”

  It wasn’t that Emma didn’t know the facts surrounding her father’s choice, she knew them in her heart and in her head. Hearing it out loud, though, and in the gentle words of her mother did help quell the fires of her emotions. Emma felt herself soften and relax in her carriage seat.

  She spoke softly, “I know your reasons, Father, and I cannot hold it against you. It was just very uncomfortable to hear it from Donald,” Emma blinked back tears.

  The Earl of Westfolk cleared his throat uncertainly. He had always been a caring father to Emma, but had never been a very emotional one. That was why Emma was taken aback when she felt his hand on her shoulder, comforting her.

  She glanced up, eyes wide in surprise. Her father was clearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t look away or remove his hand. “I am sorry that my actions hurt you. Even if they were done in good faith, that doesn’t mean I am not accountable for the consequences. I judge your marriage on its good character, and I hold myself to the same standards of an honorable gentleman. I am sorry, Emma.”

  Emma nodded almost imperceptibly and voiced a soft but genuine, “Thank you.”

  The rest of the carriage ride was still silent, but not the awkward tense silence of the shamed. This was a comfortable silence. The simple words had conveyed paragraphs of the love they had shared over the years. An apology wouldn’t fix everything, but a properly applied bandage could heal things.

  Chapter 23

  The Derbourg Estate was one that Donald believed he would one day be very proud to inherit.

  Not to say that he relished the idea of future Dukedom for its money and power, for anyone who made that assessment of Donald would be a poor judge of character indeed. Donald had loved this estate since he had grown up here. The Derbourg Estate had more personality than any manor home he ever had the pleasure of visiting.

  T
he estate was large and formed an enclosed square around a wide central courtyard. Unlike most modern estates, that featured a back garden, the garden was at the heart of the estate. The entrance was through the garden, which meant that carriages drove through to drop off their passengers and were then moved to an adjoined carriage house.

  The Derbourg Estate’s unique architecture, its firm stone walls that formed a U-shape around the courtyard, was due to its foundations being a medieval fortress. Local history said it and its inhabitants had once stood protector over the land and Donald and Matthew used to delight in the stories as children, pretending to be armored knights that once served the lord that had lived there.

  Donald and Matthew stood in the courtyard once again, no longer little boys dirtying their hands with stick swords, but instead grown gentleman.