Authors: Just One of Those Flings
"You are right, sir. I fear she has no idea. I hope to find her before it is too late."
"Forgive me, sir," Wilhelmina said, "but may I ask what your interest is in this matter? And why Lady Charlotte thought to inform you of it?"
"I love her. Miss Thirkill, that is. Lady Charlotte must have guessed it. She is a very perceptive young lady."
"Ah. I see," Wilhelmina said. "Then we may trust in your discretion. And Lord Thayne's."
"Yes, please," Beatrice said, and glanced at Gabriel. "We have had enough scandal. I know you gentlemen will not spread the tale of this situation once it is resolved. If it is ever resolved. Where the devil is Marianne?"
"I believe she has just arrived," Penelope said as she looked out the window. "Yes, it is Marianne."
"Thank God," Beatrice said.
Within minutes, Marianne rushed into the room. "I am so sorry," she said breathlessly. "Adam was not at home and I had to track him down. Here." She handed Beatrice a sheet of paper and glanced quizzically at Jeremy and Gabriel. "Rochdale has a small villa in Twickenham where he sometimes has ... entertainments. Adam believes he will have taken Emily there. This is the direction," she said, and pointed to the paper. "It is no more than a two-hour drive, if that. I am afraid they will have already arrived by now. I'm sorry, Beatrice. But perhaps it is not too late to ... to do
something
."
Beatrice gave her friend a quick hug. "Thank you, Marianne. Without your help, we should not have known where to find her at all. Please give my thanks to Adam."
"For what it's worth," Marianne said, "Adam says this chicanery is out of character for Rochdale. He does not seduce innocent young girls, as a rule."
"Unless that innocent young girl throws herself at him," Beatrice said. "She is taking her revenge on her mother and me. We had warned her against Rochdale, you see, so naturally she chose him for her ruin."
Jeremy muttered an oath.
"I must hurry," Beatrice said, and reached for the bonnet and pelisse she had kept ready. "There is no time to waste."
"I'm coming with you," Jeremy said.
"That is not necessary, sir," Beatrice said. "You have seen that this is likely Emily's doing, that she was not abducted. There is no need for you to call out Rochdale over it."
"We don't know that," he said. "I do not trust the bas— the fellow. I intend to see that no harm has come to her. I take leave to kill the man if he has laid so much as a finger on her."
"Please, Mr. Burnett. Do not add more fire to this scandal with a duel, I beg you. I am in no mood for such foolishness. I have enough troubles."
"You cannot travel so far all alone, Beatrice." Thayne spoke up for the first time. Naturally, it was to issue orders. "Allow us to escort you, at least."
"An excellent idea," Wilhelmina said. "I did not like to think of you chasing after those two all by yourself."
They all conspired against her to add one more element of agony to this nightmare. She was to ride in a carriage for several hours with Gabriel.
"You must not travel alone with two gentlemen," Grace said in a tone that suggested they were all shockingly remiss in forgetting such a thing. "It would be highly improper. I shall go along with you."
Dear heaven, it was to be a crowd.
"Four of us, then," she said, and glanced again at Gabriel. "Let me call for the town coach instead of the chariot."
"There is no need," Gabriel said. "My own traveling coach is waiting outside, and the horses are fresh. There is more than enough room for all of us."
Beatrice ought to have guessed he would want to take charge of the situation. But she was in no mood to argue. They had to get to Emily as quickly as possible.
"All right, then. Thank you, my lord. Grace, let us be off."
She began to shrug into her pelisse when Gabriel stepped behind her to help her into it.
"I am sorry," he whispered. "I know you have no desire to be in my company, but let us make a temporary peace for now. You can scratch my eyes out later, after we have plucked Emily to safety."
"This is all your fault, you know."
He sighed. "I know."
"And mine, too. I should never have allowed ..." She shook her head and walked ahead, leading the way downstairs to his awaiting carriage. The four of them piled in, ladies on the front-facing seat, gentlemen opposite. When the horses took off, Gabriel's knees knocked up against hers.
It was going to be a long ride.
* * *
"There it is," Jeremy said. "And there is light at the windows. Rochdale is there."
Thank heaven. It had been a miserable journey, and Beatrice would hate to think it had been for nothing. Hardly a word had been spoken among them during the entire time. It was odd, but even a week ago, Beatrice would have enjoyed it, traveling with three of her favorite people. But there had been no enjoyment on this journey. Only awkward silence, and the constant shifting of positions so one's knees did not brush up against someone else's.
But if Emily was inside the house, it would be worth any unpleasantness. Even if they were too late and she had sacrificed her virtue for revenge, there was still the possibility of salvaging the situation, of keeping it secret. Unless Jeremy insisted on putting a bullet in Rochdale. There would be no keeping that secret. She must not allow such a thing to happen.
The carriage came to a halt in front of a tidy little Palladian building of five window bays and two stories above the ground floor. The moonlight — for it had grown dark by the time they arrived – illuminated the house so that it gleamed white against the darkness of the parkland surrounding it. Candlelight filled the windows of the ground and first floors, though the second floor was completely dark. As the bedchambers would be on that level, Beatrice took some comfort that they appeared not to be occupied. Yet.
The gentlemen stepped down from the carriage and turned to help the ladies out. She allowed Grace to exit first with the aid of Jeremy's hand. Gabriel reached out a hand for Beatrice and helped her down. She did not, however, relinquish his hand but pulled him close. He arched a brow.
"Please, Gabriel, whatever we find inside, do not allow Mr. Burnett to do anything rash. The last thing we need is a duel. Do what you can to stop it."
"Do not worry. I will keep him reined in. He's feeling hotheaded at the moment, but he is not a violent man. I won't let him shoot Rochdale, I promise."
"Thank you, Gabriel."
"I cannot promise, however, to stop him from blackening the man's eyes if he wants."
Jeremy had rushed ahead and reached the entrance before the rest of them. The door opened as they approached, and Lord Rochdale himself stood there, leaning negligently against the jamb, a glass of wine in his hand. He was a handsome man with almost black hair that was worn too long and curled about his collar. Blue eyes were set off by dark lashes and eyebrows and always seemed to have a somnolent look about them. Some women called such eyes "bedroom eyes." Beatrice prayed Emily had not come to learn what that meant.
"What have we here?" he said in a lazy drawl. "A party? Lady Somerfield and the lovely Mrs. Marlowe. My, my, what a delightful surprise. Thayne and Burnett, too. How charming that you have come all the way to Twickenham to pay a call on me. Will there be more of you? Is there another carriage close behind?"
"Where is she?" Jeremy used the advantage of his height to loom over Lord Rochdale, who did not appear the least fazed.
Beatrice stepped forward and Jeremy was forced to move aside. "I have reason to believe my niece is here with you, Lord Rochdale. Is that true?"
"Perhaps you should come inside," he said. "You will find her in the Great Room. Top of the stairs to your right."
As she headed up the stairs, Beatrice heard Jeremy mutter something that sounded distinctly like a growl.
"Not to worry, old chap," she heard Rochdale say. "She is safe as milk here."
Beatrice prayed he was telling the truth as she hurried upstairs. Grace followed softly behind her. She stopped Beatrice with a touch to her arm as they arrived on the first-floor landing.
"I shall wait out here," she said, and indicated a stone bench beneath a window. You will want a few moments of privacy with Emily."
Beatrice took Grace's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you, Grace. For everything. Especially that uncomfortable journey. I believe you were the only one of us not steaming about something. How horrid to have forced such a trip on you."
"It was not as bad as all that," Grace said. "I had time to contemplate the bishop's sermons that I have been editing. Now, go on in and make sure that all is well with your niece."
Emily was curled up in an enormous leather wing chair in front of a cozy fire. She had not heard Beatrice enter. It appeared she was dozing.
"Emily."
The girl gave a start and sat up straight. "Aunt Beatrice!" Her face flushed pink and she looked contrite and uncertain.
Beatrice held out her arms. Without a moment's hesitation, Emily leapt from the chair and flung herself into her aunt's embrace. Beatrice gathered the girl in her arms and held her close.
"I'm s-so s-sorry, Aunt Beatrice. So very s-sorry."
"Just tell me that you are unharmed, my dear. Has he touched you?"
"No. I m-mean, sort of, but n-not really. He kissed me, that is all. But he s-said there was more to come later and it fr-frightened me, the w-way he looked at me. But he hasn't touched me again, only talked to me, and I kept w-waiting and w-worrying about wh-whatever it was that was supposed to c-come later. But nothing else happened, I pr-promise you. He only kept giving me food and watching out the w-window. I think I became drowsy and must have fallen asleep. I did not hear you come at all. Where is he now, Lord Rochdale?"
Beatrice had been rubbing the girl's back as she sobbed and hiccupped through her story, but now she pulled away and reached into her reticule. She dug out a handkerchief and wiped Emily's face. "Lord Rochdale is downstairs with Lord Thayne and Mr. Burnett."
"
Jeremy
is here? Oh, how perfectly mortifying. What is he doing here? How did he know I'd run off?"
Beatrice handed the handkerchief to Emily, who blew her nose daintily and dabbed at her eyes. Somehow the girl managed to be beautiful even when she cried.
"I am afraid you must blame Charlotte for Mr. Burnett. The little minx sent him a note implying that Rochdale had abducted you and that you needed rescuing. He came in order to be your knight in shining armor, my dear, to save you from the evil dragon."
Emily looked up at her sheepishly. "I was not abducted."
"I know. This was your revenge on your mother and me, wasn't it?"
She nodded her head. "I thought I would ruin myself to show you how it felt to be publicly humiliated. But then I got scared. It was a stupid thing to do."
"Yes, it was. And allow me to tell you something, my girl. I know precisely how it feels to be publicly humiliated, so do not presume to teach me that lesson."
Emily dropped her eyes and blushed. "You are right. I'm sorry, Aunt Beatrice."
"As for your mother, you will not be teaching her any lessons, either, for she will not hear of this little episode, if I have anything to say about it. Only imagine what sort of scene she would enact with Lord Rochdale, forcing
him
to marry you. Is that what you want? To marry Lord Rochdale?"
"No! He ... he frightens me. I would not like to be married to him, not at all."
"Then, for God's sake, be sure your mother never learns of this. If she was willing to marry you to a man she believes to keep a slave girl for his pleasure, then she would have no compunction about forcing you on a gambler and a libertine. We must keep this a secret. Do you understand me, Emily?"
"Yes, ma'am. If I ever choose to speak to Mama again, it will not be about Lord Rochdale. I promise."
"Good girl. Lord Thayne and Mr. Burnett are certainly to be trusted. And I believe those gentlemen will insure Lord Rochdale's silence." She hoped there would be no duel, was confident that Gabriel would not allow it. However, she also knew both gentlemen would make his lordship's life a misery if he ever spoke of this misadventure.
"You have had a fortunate escape this time, my girl. Many men would not have hesitated to take your virtue in such a situation. I hope you have learned your lesson."
"Yes, ma'am, I have indeed. I am very sorry for all the trouble I put you to."
"All that matters is that you are safe." Beatrice touched Emily's cheek gently. "And we can only hope that your Mr. Burnett is not putting a bullet into Rochdale at this moment. That is why he came, you know. To challenge the man to a duel for daring to touch you."
Emily's eyes nearly popped from her head, they grew so wide. "
A duel
? Good heavens, are they shooting at each other? My God, what if Jeremy — Mr. Burnett, I mean — is killed?"
"Would it matter to you?"
"Of course it would! I do not want him to die. Especially for something that is my fault."
"He is in love with you, you know."
"I know."
"He is a very charming young man, Emily. You could do much worse. Although, of course, your Mama would say you could do much better."
"I do not care what Mama says. Can we go now and make sure poor Jeremy is not lying dead somewhere?"
* * *
"I could wring your pretty neck, my girl."
Emily walked with Jeremy in the moonlight while Grace and Aunt Beatrice saw to Lord Rochdale's cuts and bruises. There had been no duel, thank heaven, but Jeremy apparently had planted Lord Rochdale a facer, or two, or three. He had done it for her, and though she did not like to think of him fighting, she felt a rush of pride that he had felt compelled to defend her honor.
"I know," she said. "It was a foolhardy thing to do and I have apologized to Aunt Beatrice."
"She was worried to death, you know. So was I. You are far too innocent to understand what a man like that would do to you. I thank God you are still innocent of that knowledge. Tell me, Emily, why did you do it?"