Edmund turned away disgusted. He did not want to watch Anne in the arms of another man. He snagged a brandy from a footman’s tray and downed the contents in a single swallow before turning to go. He would make an early night of it and give his apologies tomorrow.
“I know what you are planning,” a familiar voice said to Edmund as he exited the hall. Edmund stopped and spun, seeing Amberleigh leaning insolently only a few feet away, his long form blocking the outer door. “Your fond memories and walks down the primrose gardens of your youth. You attempt to lure her with nothing more than a few memories of childish baubles, little slices of youth and innocence because, to be quite honest, that is the extent of what you have to offer.”
Edmund bristled. What was the ponce on about?
But Amberleigh wasn’t done. “I have seen men like you all my life, Ingram. Men who are born to a certain station, and thereafter, have nothing left to contribute to society. Childish memories are all you will ever have to give her, my boy. Neither they, nor you, will stand in my way. I can offer Anne a pick of homes where she will enjoy a lifetime of comfort. Not to mention, I can offer something else you cannot.”
“Just what is that?” Edmund demanded. He took a step closer and faced Amberleigh eye to eye, ready to have it out with the man.
Amberleigh sneered at him, his voice oily and condescending. “A man for a husband and not just the memory of a wayward child,” he said. “If you truly cared for her benefit, as you say you do, you would step aside and allow her a lifetime of ease and security. You would end this nonsense.”
“You are mad if you think Anne will accept you,” Edmund spat.
Amberleigh’s voice took on an edge, a darkness that made Edmund’s skin crawl with the venom it contained. “You will not stop me, Ingram. Anne will be my bride. That you can depend upon.” He stepped forward never breaking eye contact. “And as far as your tawdry childhood memories, I trust they will bring you some comfort on the cold nights ahead when my new wife and I are warm abed in one of my many estates.”
Edmund could take no more. He pulled back his fist and punched the man, straight in the mouth. Maybe that would shut him up. He stood ready for Amberleigh’s retaliatory strike, but it never came. The man straightened slowly, rubbing at his jaw. “You are an uncultured brute, Ingram,” Amberleigh said. “And you are not worthy of the title of gentleman, much less my sweet Anne.”
Edmund would have hit him again, but a large and burly footman stepped between them. “Lord Waverley will not permit any disturbance tonight. I must ask you to leave, sir,” the big man insisted.
Edmund shrugged him off. “I’m going,” he assured the burly footman, straightening his cravat and tugging his jacket into place. “But this isn’t over, Amberleigh.”
Amberleigh had produced a large white handkerchief and was dabbing at the side of his mouth.
Ponce, Edmund thought.
“On the contrary, sir. It most certainly is,” Amberleigh said. He turned his back on Edmund in a studied insult and returned to the ballroom.
Edmund was seething. The cad wouldn’t be so cocky if Edmund had a sword to hand. His fists were still clenched when Harry found him several minutes later just as he hailed a hackney.
“Edmund? What the devil,” Harry began, and then seeing his friend’s tightened jaw and clenched fists, subsided. “Amberleigh?”
“Indeed,” Edmund agreed, explaining what had occurred. He hadn’t realized that his jaw was still clenched, the muscles in his neck strained, and joints cracked with the effort of speech. “I need to end this for her sake, Harry. Anne is too sweet a person. She has no idea the sort of bounder that man really is. I can’t let her marry the cad.”
Harry shook his head. “I know my cousin. You can’t tell her what to do, Ed. You know that. Anne is a strong-willed woman; always has been so.”
“The Anne I knew was,” Edmund agreed. “Perhaps that has changed. She seems to have no trouble allowing Amberleigh to lead her about.” The words were bitter on his tongue.
“Still, she will resent your interference, I think,” Harry said drawing Edmund toward their hired conveyance.
“At first, perhaps,” Edmund agreed as they embarked, “but in the end when Amberleigh is revealed to society as the blackguard he is, she will be grateful. Especially, if I save her from scandal.”
“Then perhaps it would be better,” Harry mused thoughtfully, “if his true character were revealed now, before the betrothal is announced, and Anne’s fate is too entwined with his. We should unmask him and show his true nature before Anne’s father agrees to the match, when the breaking of the engagement would reflect poorly on her.”
Edmund turned to his friend, hope returning to his eyes. “What? You know something of his vile nature? Something that can be used? Tell me.”
“No. Nothing.” Harry waved off the question. “But the Season has not yet ended. We have a little time yet before we return to Northwick. Give me a chance to ask some questions. A few discreet inquiries in the right ears, and we’ll see what scandals the man carries alongside his good name. If there is dirt to be had, I will have it.”
They reached Edmund’s apartments, and he paid the driver as they disembarked. He did not relish the sleepless night ahead of him, taunted by the sight of Anne dancing in the arms of Amberleigh.
“It is not enough to force the issue,” Harry mused.
“No,” Edmund agreed. “I need to break him, Harry. I will break him. Mark me. I will.”
12
The remainder of the Season had blown by in a whirlwind of excitement, parties and balls. Anne never seemed to have a moment to breathe. Time moved on apace, and soon the company was getting ready to leave London for the country. Anne was glad to be going home. She was. She loved the gaiety of the balls, but she was ready for the peace of the country. Mostly, she hoped that she would be able to speak with Emily on the two day drive from London to Northwick. That was not to be.
“Your mother hates the country,” Anne said to Emily as they prepared to leave London. “I thought she was staying in Town.”
Emily grimaced. “She has decided that even though I am married, I alone am not a fit chaperone for you and Eliza,” Emily confided.
That made Anne raise an eyebrow.
“Besides,” Emily continued. “She wants to personally inform your mother of all that has occurred this season, what with Lord Amberleigh asking for your hand.”
“Yes, that,” Anne began, but Emily hushed her as Lady Kentleworth bustled forward, directing the footmen as the last of the trunks were loaded. Most of the luggage had been sent forward with the other servants, but even so, there was need of two carriages. Emily, Anne and Eliza would have shared a maid on the trip, if Anne had any say. There was no need for elaborate attire on the road, but Emily’s mother disallowed that decision, saying that a lady must always look her best, and they were well past the time when they could simply braid each other’s hair and stuff it under a bonnet.
When Anne protested, Emily reminded her that her maid was actually from Northwickshire, and Alexander had his valet, both of which had remained behind in London when the other servants left earlier in the week. Now they must be accounted for. There were several other servants that had expressed interest in joining the duke’s household in Northwickshire, so they had collected an entourage.
Emily’s mother reminded Anne, “Emily is a duchess now. She cannot travel with only her maid and the duke’s valet. It would be unseemly.”
Anne noted that Edmund left his own man with his father in London as a promise that he would be back soon. She doubted that he would honor that promise. She knew that Edmund had escaped. She felt like she wanted to escape too, and they had not even begun the journey.
With much ado, they separated from the servants so that the ladies could all ride together, with Alexander and Edmund. The remaining upper house servants took the other carriage, but kept pace so that the ladies and gentleman would have their aid at th
e coaching inns along the way. Alexander brought several horses that he had originally brought to London and was now taking back to Northwickshire. He had also bought a new stallion to replenish the Bramblewood stables. All in all, the moving of the party was a grand affair.
To Anne, it seemed this should be simple: there should be only the clothing needed for the two day journey for the ladies and their ladies’ maids. She and Emily had made this trip many a time with only the two of them, their maids, a driver and a footman. Now, it seemed to Anne as if they had brought two entire households. She found herself wondering what could have possibly been sent ahead in the carriages which left earlier this week if there was still so much to move.
When they finally disembarked, it was nearly mid-day and Anne had a headache. She had to admit that Alexander’s new coach was spacious, and comfortable, but with all of the occupants, she still felt cramped and out of sorts.
She answered in monosyllables when Emily’s mother pressed her about Amberleigh, who was set to follow with his own entourage on the morrow. She wondered how many carriages he would bring. Anne could not imagine that Amberleigh would leave any of his comforts behind, but wasn’t that what any one of the Ton would do? As Emily’s mother said, they had an image to uphold, but still, all the trappings annoyed her.
“I wrote to Lady Aldbrick to give my recommendation of Lord Amberleigh,” Lady Kentleworth said.
Anne looked up at the mention of her mother’s name, and Emily’s mother continued. “You have outdone yourself, my dear,” she said to Anne. The appellation, my dear, called to mind Amberleigh’s voice in Anne’s mind, and she felt her headache increase as Lady Kentleworth continued praising Amberleigh. “A perfect match,” she said. “I could not have chosen better myself. Truthfully, child, I did not think you had it in you.”
Anne was not sure how to answer that; was the comment disparaging or a compliment? Instead of replying, she only smiled wanly and let the older woman continue to extol Amberleigh’s virtues. She could not even disagree with most of what the lady said.
Alexander stretched out his long legs and put an arm around Emily as she started to doze. Presently, her head fell onto his shoulder.
With Emily asleep, her mother turned her attention to her son. Edmund slumped sullenly in the corner. “Do sit up straight. You will wrinkle your clothing,” his mother said and for a moment, Anne thought Lady Kentleworth was speaking to her. Edmund’s sigh brought her back to reality as Edmund sat up a bit straighter and caught Anne’s eye.
Anne remembered a time when they were children and his parents were on a rare visit to his Uncle Cecil and Aunt Agnes. The day before, his mother had gone on about his getting his stockings dirty, and so, rather than restrict their play, the next time they were soiled, he and Anne had washed them in the stream, which proceeded to a day of wading and catching frogs. That evening, they arrived back at Uncle Cecil’s somewhat cleaner, but considerably wetter. The thought of that day, and so many like it, filled her with a strange heat and longing.
She would have spoken of that time to Edmund, but it seemed a strangely private moment, and she did not want to share it with the other occupants of the carriage. Anyway, he had returned to slumping and staring morosely out of the window, his mother’s words unheeded.
Eliza finally took the conversation in hand, discussing all matter of flora and fauna with Emily’s mother, and Anne stared out the opposite window, as the scenery began to change from the roads outside of London to the countryside. Northwickshire would soothe her, she told herself. Everything would be better once she was home.
Anne knew that Amberleigh had written to her father to procure an invitation and would arrive in Northwickshire in a few days. Her father was aware of the reason for Amberleigh’s visit, but he would not agree to a match without meeting the man in person. Her father was a bit fastidious, a bit like Amberleigh, himself, Anne thought.
Father would want to take the measure of the man. What was Anne’s measure? She could find no fault in Amberleigh. Still her heart hesitated. Certainly, father would have made inquiries into Amberleigh’s character, but Anne knew that her father would like the man. Father would expect her to marry. Did expect her to marry.
If she was going to have misgivings, she should have had them in London. Did she have misgivings, she wondered? No, she had planned this, and all was going according to that plan. Still, she wanted to discuss the matter with her best friend, but the carriage was not conducive to conversation with Emily, when Edmund and Alexander were present, to say nothing of Emily’s mother. Perhaps, when they stopped for the evening, she could speak privately with Emily, Anne thought. She would like that. Emily with her eminent practicality, would tell Anne that she was being silly. Amberleigh was a perfect match.
Anne watched Emily share a few brief touches with Alexander. He held her a bit longer than strictly necessary as he helped her from the carriage. He brushed her hand as they entered the inn. When he smiled at her, Emily seemed to glow with an inner light. Anne wanted that special glow for herself. What could she do to make it happen with Amberleigh? She only had to talk privately to Emily to figure out what she had missed.
Although few married couples shared rooms at an inn, Emily and Alexander seemed to crave privacy as much as, or more so, than Anne did. There was a shared supper with the group and then bed. Anne had a moment with Eliza, but her younger sister was so excited to be on her way home, that Anne could not place her clouds over her sister’s life. Eliza was a girl who thrived in the country. Anne was also glad to be heading home. The smell of the air already felt fresher. Everything would make sense once she was home in Northwickshire, she told herself. Perhaps then, she could shake this feeling of foreboding.
The following morning, to Anne’s chagrin, the people in the carriage began to talk of the Season past, and more specifically her own success. It did not feel like success. She only felt more and more uncomfortable as Emily’s mother congratulated her on the fine match she was making, and Eliza commented that Amberleigh was very handsome. Even Emily joined in the conversation, saying that the man did seem very polished.
It seemed everyone was settled in the arrangement. Everyone that is except Anne. Anne nodded silently. She couldn’t reconcile the source of her upset.
Emily smiled at her. “You told me before the Season started, that you were serious this time. You set out to win yourself a proposal and you have done so.”
That was true. She had proven that she was a woman of quality, one who was desirable and pursued by a gentleman of the Ton, but this particular gentleman’s affection left her cold. Having won the man’s affection, Anne was unsure that she wanted the prize of Amberleigh as her husband. As the conversation continued, Anne became more and more agitated.
“He’s a ponce,” Edmund interjected into the conversation.
“You are being quite ungracious,” his mother said. “Apologize at once to Miss Albright.” The already tense atmosphere felt suddenly stifling.
“I am very sorry,” he said at once, but his mocking attitude made Anne wonder exactly what he was sorry for, his words or that she was marrying the man at all.
When they stopped to change the horses, Edmund chose to ride astride.
Alexander looked momentarily to the ladies and said, “I believe I shall ride for a while as well.”
Anne wished that she could say the tension in the carriage eased after that. It did not. Anne wished desperately that she could join the men outside of the restrictive carriage. The ride seemed interminable. At last they were moving again. As it was, Anne was glad when the outside scenery had given way to more familiar sights. The smell of flowers was in the air. They were nearing Aldbrick Abbey. Any minute now they would turn into the tree-lined drive leading up to the house.
The shadows had lengthened by the time they finally arrived. Anne’s mother greeted Lady Kentleworth and embraced both of her daughters fondly in the dying light. It was full dark by the time Anne had changed for su
pper, and she would have much rather turned in. The tense journey had exhausted her. Eliza seemed unaffected and spoke with anticipation of the garden party their mother was planning to host in a few days’ time. Anne responded to it all politely, but without thought, keeping half an ear to the gentlemen’s conversation.
Edmund had seemed every bit as put out as Anne during their journey, if not more so. Mostly, he had taken to sulking in his seat in the carriage. Now, he spoke animatedly to her father, although her father’s responses were curt. Anne was reminded that Father had never been overly fond of Edmund. He blamed Edmund for leading Anne astray on more than one occasion, although she had not always been blameless, and was more often than not, a willing participant in Edmund’s mischief. Still, her father looked down his nose at the young man with hardly a word to the rather riotous discussion which Anne realized had moved on from personal matters to the vagaries of politics and Edmund’s time spent at Parliament.
By the time the meal was served, Anne had a raging headache and could not wait to escape the table. She picked at her food, hoping that eating might ease the pain, but it did not. When the final course was cleared, she begged to be excused and retire for the night. Her mother expressed concern for Anne’s health, and she assured her mother that she was fine, only fatigued from the journey.
“Anne, was there not something you wished to discuss?” Her father asked blandly.
Anne froze in horror. She looked between her father and Edmund. She should not have been surprised. She knew full well what was coming. Her father would want to discuss her marriage to Lord Amberleigh. This was not a conversation Anne was prepared to have. Not here at the dinner table. Not in front of Edmund.
The Viscount's Wayward Son: A Regency Romance (Ladies of the North Book 2) Page 13
