Regency Romances Read online

  “Delicious.” The marquis murmured.

  “What brings you to these parts, Marquis Eagleton?” Thomas asked again, making small talk.

  “Oh, business. Business.” The marquis said.

  “Is that what you call me now?” The earl teased. “I would have thought we were friends, Finch.”

  “Oh of course, of course.” The marquis laughed. “The earl and I have known each other for a long time. I’ve sat him on my knee and told him many a good story when he was a boy.”

  “It’s hard to imagine,” Emily said with a smile. “The earl doesn’t look like he would ever have fitted on a knee.”

  “Oh yes, he was always larger than the other boys.” The marquis nodded. “But he was a sweet boy. Fond of music and always ready to hear a good tale. I remember once when he was only six, he crept downstairs during a party, and somehow made his way under the table. I thought I was feeding scraps to the dog for two hours before I heard snoring, and discovered a cherubic little boy fast asleep by my leg!”

  The table roared with laughter, and Emily herself threw her head back and laughed. The earl stared at her, transfixed. Without her smile, Emily was beautiful enough; her curly auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes would cause any man to look twice. But when she laughed, it transformed her. She had an energy about her that seemed to reach out and captivate the other men at the table. Both the marquis and his son Cecil were staring at her too, her laughter infectious. Vaguely, the earl was aware of Fiona’s hand, still resting on his forearm. He moved his arm away gently, a little irritated, and did not see the icy look that came into Fiona’s eyes as she stared at Emily. The earl took a deep breath and told himself to calm down. He had no time for women like Emily. Women who could transfix an entire room with just a smile were nothing short of dangerous, and he’d learned his lesson early. So why did he forget it now? Why was he still looking at her, long after the laughter had subsided?

  What made it more displeasing was that Emily noticed. She was looking at him now, with her eyes wide, rather like a deer trapped in the woods. He stifled his irritation at Cecil, who was sitting far closer to Emily than the earl was happy with. No, the earl told himself. He had to be careful and refrain. Emily’s charms might arouse feelings that he would soon regret.

  Chapter 4

  The Curse Of

  Highmere Castle

  T he marquis and his children chose to stay on at the castle, and dinners together soon became nightly affairs. After the earl’s earlier rebuke of Cecil, Cecil stopped trying to provoke him. However, there was clearly animosity between the two, and Emily couldn’t help wondering why. Fiona spent most of her days dressing up in one alluring outfit after another and walking about the garden eager to display them. From her position in the library, Emily would see her often and wonder if the earl were watching her too, from his study window.

  “Vast, isn’t it?” Thomas asked. “Even Oxford’s own library can be rivaled by Earl Bradshaw’s collection.”

  “Indeed it can.” Emily smiled. “The man has good taste in books, or perhaps his father did. The layer of dust tells me that the earl hasn’t read these in quite some time.”

  “I have it on good authority that most of these books were collected by the earl and his mother,” Thomas said.

  “The marquis told you that, did he?” Emily asked. “The earl struck me as a man who would be at ease outdoors, and quite ill-favored in a library like this.”

  “Yet all we know about him is that he locks himself away in his study day and night.” Thomas smiled. “Ever wonder what he’s doing up there?”

  Emily did, all the time, but before she could tell Thomas that, they were interrupted by the arrival of Cecil and Fiona.

  “Rain’s begun,” Cecil said, sounding gloomy. “We thought we’d come check if either of you would care for a game of cards?”

  “Oh, we must decline. We’ve got too much work to do.” Thomas said. “But if you’re here to look for a book, I can suggest a few.”

  “I never had much interest in reading,” Cecil said. “Seems like a waste of time to me.”

  “And me,” Fiona said. “Why would I engage in a book when the world has so much to offer.”

  “Well, for one consideration, you can live a thousand lives in the space of a few hours,” Emily said with a smile. “But I suppose it’s all depends on one’s tastes.”

  “Yes. You have excellent tastes, I’m sure.” Fiona looked at her as though she plainly didn’t believe it. Thomas, who had perked up upon Fiona’s arrival, said, “There are some lovely paintings in the anteroom if you’d be interested. I believe I spotted one by Tintoretto himself.”

  Fiona covered her mouth as she gave a yawn, and Emily inwardly gave a sigh. Poor Thomas, he had no chance with Fiona as she was evidently pursuing the earl. Still, to Emily’s surprise, Fiona agreed to let him escort her to one end of the library where he began talking to her about the paintings. Cecil, meanwhile, followed Emily about as she weaved her way through the books.

  He seemed content to let her do the work, while he prattled on about balls, and hunting, and politics. Emily nodded blandly as she continued her work.

  “So how did you find yourself invited here?” Cecil asked, “And why haven’t I seen a beauty such as yourself in London?”

  Emily didn’t really want to turn her attention to him, but politeness made her say, “My brother is very skilled at restoring libraries. He worked at Oxford years ago. I suppose you could say I tagged along because I was interested. We’re from Sussex, originally.”

  “Then you wouldn’t have heard anything about the castle before you came?” Cecil asked.

  Emily turned to him, intrigued. “Are you talking about the supposed curse?” She asked.

  “That’s right,” Cecil said with a smile. “I was surprised that you knew nothing about it.”

  “Thomas chose not to tell me, and I decided not to pry,” Emily said. She thought that would subdue Cecil, but the young man continued, growing bolder as he spoke. He was standing a little too close to her now, and Emily looked up quickly, relieved to find that Thomas was still in the room. He was at the other end and completely engrossed in his discussion with Fiona.

  “Well.” Cecil said, “It’s a fine story if you’d like to hear it.”

  Curiosity debated with good sense in Emily’s heart. Curiosity won. What had caused the earl to become a near recluse? What was this curse that Cecil and Thomas kept referring to? She had to know.

  “It’s all tied up in how he got his nickname,” Cecil said. “Beast. The earl does rather look like one, doesn’t he?”

  “He looks like a gentleman to me,” Emily said.

  “Oh, don’t let his exquisite clothes fool you,” Cecil said. “His heart is no less than a stone. He’s a brute of a man.”

  “An unkind way to speak of someone who once saved your life, would you not say, Cecil?” Emily asked, more than thoroughly irritated now.

  Cecil ignored her. He was too busy recounting his tale now. “Everyone who knew him when he was younger will tell you the same thing about the earl.” He said. “That he was considered the most handsome man in all of London, and could have picked any woman to be his wife.”

  “The earl?” Emily asked, surprised, “I wouldn’t have thought he was interested in balls and finery.”

  “You wouldn’t now, would you?” Cecil smiled. “He’s acted like an ascetic ever since...”

  “Ever since what?”

  But before Cecil could tell her, a shadow had fallen over them, as the earl arrived. “I thought there would be more work and less talk.” The earl said. “But apparently you do not share in your brother’s work ethic.”

  Emily blushed. A book lay forgotten in her hands, and she knew she had no excuse. She’d been wasting time instead of doing what she was supposed to. “I beg your forgiveness, My Lord.” She said. “Cecil and I were just talking.”

  Cecil had beat a hasty retreat as soon as the earl arrive
d, almost as though he were scared. The earl had that effect on Emily too, but she wouldn’t back away from him.

  “I can guess what you were talking about.” The earl said, with contempt in his voice. “Your brother made it plain that he would be pleased with the match. But I warn you, Emily, Cecil is nothing more than a flirt and a rake.”

  Emily colored. “Thomas only wants me to be happy.” She protested, defending her brother. “As for Cecil himself, I’ll thank you not to comment on another man’s character when your own is...” She broke off. “Well, when your own isn’t stellar.” She finished lamely. “People in glass houses have no business throwing stones.”

  Her words seemed to enrage the earl. He stepped closer to her, and Emily found her heart pounding. Why was he so… large? Yet every inch of him was solidly muscled, with not an ounce of extra fat. His hair reached down to touch his collar, and Emily irrationally longed to run her hands through it.

  “What do you know of my character?” The earl demanded. “What have you heard?”

  “I know nothing.” Emily said, “Nor do I wish to. Idle chatter isn’t compatible with the way of the Lord. I’d prefer to spend my time at work.”

  “Good.” The earl said. “You might want to remember that next time you fawn over Cecil.”

  “Why would you object so much to it?” Emily asked, “Surely, there’s no harm if the two of us converse.”

  The earl had no answer. He could not tell her the truth, after all, that seeing her with Cecil brought up painful memories from the past. Once, he had been a fool, and let his emotions control him. Never again would he let that happen. He’d thought himself indifferent now, but something about Emily aroused his protective instincts. He’d felt responsible for her ever since she’d fallen into his arms the first day they met. Yet he could not tell why. After all, he'd only just made her acquaintance. An entrancing mix of a stranger but a stranger nevertheless. He had no right to keep her from talking to Cecil. Even if the thought did make his blood run cold.

  “What are you thinking?” She asked, her blue eyes clouding over as she looked at him.

  “Only that I’m a fool.” He said. “I promised myself I would never be one again. You may do what you like, My Lady and flirt with whichever man you fancy.” His voice was sharp as a whip on her nerves. Emily drew back, wondering what she had said to offend him.

  Fiona appeared, Thomas trailing behind her. Her lips pressed tight together as she saw Emily and the earl. “The two of you seem to be enjoying yourself.” She said lightly.

  “Just talking.” The earl said easily. “How about you, Fiona? Are you enjoying the day?”

  “I am most certainly not,” Fiona said. “I must say, Damien, that you’re a terrible host. I’ve been bored senseless out here all alone.” She pouted.

  “I must do something to make amends, it seems.” The earl said. “What would please you, My Lady?”

  “A ball,” Fiona said. “We need to have some music here in the castle. It’s altogether far too solemn, Damien.” She moved so that she was between him and Emily, a move that was noticed by both the Claymore siblings. Thomas looked disappointed, while Emily tried to pretend that she did not care. Cecil had implied that Fiona was trying her best to ensnare the earl. What did it matter to Emily if she did?

  “I’m not one for large social occasions, Fiona.” The earl said flatly. “I’d say you’ll have better luck in London. Perhaps you can entreat your father to take you to one.”

  Fiona pouted some more. “Please, Damien.” She said. “For my sake? I am so bored here, and I would so like to meet your neighbors. Perhaps they’d even have some eligible young sons.”

  “Perhaps.” The earl said.

  “And Emily would be interested, wouldn’t you, Emily?” Fiona asked. Her voice was acidic as she looked her over.

  “I’m afraid I have no say,” Emily said. “The earl may do whatever pleases him. It is his castle, after all.”

  “Oh, but don’t you agree that he's perfectly beastly?” Fiona asked. “He ought to entertain us.”

  “He owes us nothing but the good graces he has already displayed,” Emily said. “It’s his home, and if he doesn’t feel compelled to do something, he shouldn’t.”

  The earl found himself oddly touched by Emily’s spirited defense of him, even though Fiona looked at her as though she was a strange animal. Fiona’s nose wrinkled as she said, “You will agree, at least, that the castle is rather dreary? How did you and your brother manage to live here alone?”

  “We’re working here,” Thomas said, finally stepping in. “We have no time for tomfoolery.”

  “Then you’re one of those women who prefer hiding behind a book to interacting with real people?” Fiona’s voice had more than a trace of contempt in it.

  “Far from it. Emily is one of the friendliest women I’ve ever known!” Cecil appeared suddenly and jumped into the conversation. “But I side with you, sister dearest. The earl is most petulant, refusing to grant you a ball. All he has to do is snap his fingers, and I daresay Murgatroyd will arrange it all in minutes.” Cecil paused. “Unless, of course, the earl is… reluctant for some reason?” He gave a malicious smile to the earl. “Are you?”

  “If you’re so insistent.” The earl said, “I suppose I have no recourse but to give you what you want, seeing that the two of you are guests here. Very well. We shall have a ball this Friday.”

  “Oh, Damien! You are too kind!” Fiona clapped her hands in glee. “How wonderful!”

  “But not just any ball.” The earl said. “A masquerade.”

  Chapter 5

  The Mask He Wore

  T he days rushed by and to Emily, it felt like Friday arrived early. Murgatroyd, despite his unemotional face, seemed genuinely excited to finally be holding a masquerade. Emily even thought she caught him humming to himself as she passed by the ballroom. Sheets were being lifted off the furniture, and a thorough dusting was being undertaken in every corner. As for the library, Thomas shooed her away that day, telling her she’d helped him long enough, and that she needed to take a break. Cecil and Fiona had seized the sunny day and gone for a long walk along the cliffs, while the marquis had gone to a nearby estate to discuss some business. Consequently, Emily found herself alone in the castle, wandering about it.

  Deciding that she too, could use some sun, she wandered out the doors and into the garden. Highmere castle, she knew, had once been famous for its rose bushes. There was only one bush now, and it was dry and nearly dead. Around it, the grass grew wild and unkempt, and trees from the forest edged ever closer to the castle. Someday soon, the castle would be swallowed back up in the wild.

  Once more Emily wondered why the earl never bothered to tend his surroundings. She’d thought, before coming here, that a lack of wealth might be a reason. She knew better now. Although they were old and dusty, the earl’s castle had a collection of some of the finest antiques she had ever laid eyes on. The slow deterioration of the castle was not for lack of money, but for lack of will, and that was a great pity. Perhaps, being a man, the earl had no thought or interest in how to keep his home beautiful and probably, once he married Fiona, the castle would once more return to its former glory.

  The thought of Fiona marrying the earl, as always, sent a little frisson of discontent down Emily’s back. She stopped at a particular rosebush, and angrily pushed aside the dead leaves with her cane. Suddenly, she froze. It was impossible, but there, within the bush, hidden from clear view, was a beautiful, dark red rose. In the most difficult of circumstances, that tiny red flower hung on to life, and hope. Determined to help it, Emily ran to the shed and came back with the right tools. Soon, she was on her knees, pruning the bush and clearing away dead leaves. She had just finished watering it when she heard footsteps behind her.

  Turning, she found Cecil towering over her, giving her his usual smile; a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Lord Cecil.” She said. “What a pleasant day we’re ha
ving. I was under the impression that you would be out with Lady Fiona?”

  “Oh, Fiona met some friends of hers and decided to go buy a new dress for the masquerade ball this week,” Cecil said. “You will be attending, won’t you My Lady?”

  “I will, yes.” Emily smiled. “Are you looking forward to it too, My Lord?”

  “Yes. It will break up the ghastly atmosphere of Highmere Castle.” Cecil said. “I don’t know why father insists on coming here every year. Some misplaced loyalty towards the earl, I suppose. Or worse, because he believes that enough contact will make the earl eventually fall in love with Fiona.”

  “Do you think it will?” Emily asked, curious.

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” Cecil said with a shrug. “Fiona’s quite taken with the idea of being the earl’s wife, or perhaps with the notion of all those gems that are supposedly kept in his treasure chest.”

  “Ah yes.” Emily nodded. “It is not a bad bargain on either side. The earl will gain a beautiful bride, and she will gain a handsome and wealthy husband.”

  “The latter matters far more to her than the former,” Cecil said with a laugh. “Else she could have had her pick of suitors in London.”

  “Indeed,” Emily said. Personally, she detested Fiona. The little time she’d spent with the brother and sister had convinced Emily that they were both rather unpleasant people. She could only imagine that the earl agreed with her. Then again, men were known to be enamored by beauty. Perhaps Fiona’s deep green eyes and dark hair had blinded the earl to her disagreeable nature. As for Cecil, all he seemed to do was whine about how uninteresting the castle was, instead of making the slightest effort to entertain himself. After a few days of this, Emily had happily retreated into the library with her brother and waited patiently for Friday to arrive.

  “Tell me,” Cecil said. “Have you selected a dress for the ball yet?”

  “Oh.” Emily had sadly realized she had none. There was no way she could ask Thomas for money to buy a new dress as she knew that he had not a penny to spare. Instead, she had decided to wear an old but clean dress, perhaps with a new ribbon on it to make her look nicer. “Yes.” She said. “Almost.”