8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

May 23, 1815

My heart aches, and I am helpless to end the torment. It is one thing to be imprisoned, but to watch others suffer the same fate is worse. At first, I believed Sabrina's affections were real, that she loved the earl and that, perhaps, Lord Emerson's goodness would restore Sabrina's own. But now I am unconvinced she ever possessed any. She has attracted the attention of the Duke of Rochester, a man more than twice her age and as despicable in character as she. With my help, she has met with him, alone, and betrayed the man who has clearly given her his heart. She has entrapped the earl as she has me—with the sole purpose of using him. What will she do with him when that purpose runs dry?

What will she do with me?

Amelia

T he moment Lord Emerson stepped closer, the air was ripped from my lungs and I forgot how to breathe. I had spent a great deal of time around the man when he courted Sabrina, but this was different. We were alone, and with the weight of his full attention on me, my body felt as though it was floating.

His blue eyes implored and pleaded, filled with a concern and something more I couldn't identify, and his warm fingers brushed over my wrist, back and forth in slow motions, turning my thoughts incoherent.

"What does your poem mean?" he whispered. "The words were not pulled from the air without purpose. I felt them."

I closed my eyes, forcing my mind to consider his question rather than focus on his touch, his warmth, and his nearness. Vastly difficult. Near impossible, even. I had loved this man for too long to not be affected, and it scared me to lose so much control over myself. His hold on my wrist was gentle. I could pull away. Escape the library without another word.

Drat my heart for enjoying it all, keeping my feet firmly in place.

"Do you feel trapped?" His quiet voice fell over me, sending a shiver coursing down my neck.

Right now, I felt very trapped…in a cage of my own making. All those moments in London spent admiring the man had left me confounded by one little touch. It was utterly ridiculous how every sensible thought had fled. I had only ever imagined what the warmth of his fingers against my skin might feel like. We had never danced together despite the many balls we'd both attended. We'd hardly spoken, in truth. His attention had always been on Sabrina, not the invisible wallflower in her shadow.

"Miss Scott?"

"I…" Oh, yes. He had asked about my poem. Was there any reason to lie? Lord Emerson would see right through it. I hadn't fooled him by stating I could not remember who had penned the words when Mrs. Davis asked. Still, I needed to try. If I did not dissuade him now, he might continue to dig, and no one else could learn the truth. I refused to allow my history to dampen my sister's chance at a happy future.

I opened my eyes and met his gaze. "Poets often write things beyond their own experience, do they not?"

It was a weak answer, even if there was some truth to it. Poems could be written that way, just as novels could hold adventures and stories that the author had never experienced. But he'd noticed my connection to the words, and that was not so easily explained.

"Yes," he said, "but I do not believe that is the case in this instance. The way you spoke…there was deep emotion behind those words, Miss Scott. Conveying that kind of conviction without personal experience? You are either lying or a rather good actress."

"How do you know I am not a good actress?"

A flicker of a smile tugged at his lips. "Because I have been watching you for days. You do not hide your emotion as well as you think."

My pulse thrummed. How many times had I grimaced when Sabrina wasn't looking or chewed my lip to cover my irritation? Sabrina was unlikely to notice, as she only paid attention to me when it suited her, but…

My brows furrowed. " You've been watching me? Why?"

His smile grew, which only served to make him more handsome. Drat him.

"Because you confuse me, and I wish to solve the puzzle. You carry secrets, and I cannot help but wonder if those secrets are the reason you feel trapped." His lips flattened. "In truth, I am concerned. I know what it is like to be the recipient of Sabrina's cruelty. I would not wish that on my enemy, and if there is something I can do to help, I would like to."

"I am not at risk of Sabrina breaking my heart, my lord. You needn't come to my rescue."

"Not romantically at risk, perhaps, but a heart can be broken in other ways. Worse still, a spirit. I would not wish to see either of yours shattered."

I swallowed and blinked against the burning in my eyes. That he cared enough to offer help did nothing to cool the admiration I already felt. An insensible part of me desperately wanted to tell him everything, to break free of the secrets that bound me. But doing so would serve no purpose. Lord Emerson could not save me. No one could.

Besides, my spirit had broken the second I resigned myself to being Sabrina's captive. So long as she had use for me, I could never be free, and once she didn't? My reputation would be soiled beyond repair, a certainty I had accepted. I just needed to prove valuable long enough to see my sister happily settled.

"I thank you for your concern," I said. "But you needn't worry about me, my lord. You have enough on your plate as it is. Evasion requires much strategy. "

A hint of disappointment pinched his expression, but it was gone in an instant. "Indeed it does. I am fortunate to have help."

Me. I was the one giving the help, a traitorous action that could prove disastrous.

Lord Emerson leaned close to my ear, and my breath hitched.

"Even if that help is needed because I am an unintelligent pig."

I laughed, and his face was lit with a smile when he pulled away.

"I hope you can forgive me for that," I said. "You must know I do not think you unintelligent. Not even a little."

"I am glad to hear it." His gaze flicked to the door and back to me. "I should leave before we are discovered, I think."

I glanced at his empty hand, the one that was not presently holding my wrist. "Did you not come to find another book?"

"I shall return later, perhaps when the rest of the house is asleep and there is little risk of anyone catching me."

"You realize that by telling me your plan, you could be foiling it," I said. "What if I come to the library to catch you? Or tell Sabrina?"

A wicked grin twisted his lips, making my stomach flutter. "I feel I can safely assume you will not reveal my plan to her given the lengths you've gone to hide me. As for the first statement…" He tilted his head and stared down at the hand holding mine. His thumb glided to the center of my palm and back down again, turning my blood to ice. "Perhaps I would not mind being caught by you, Miss Scott."

My face burned. Was this a dream? It seemed the only feasible explanation. Lord Emerson, an earl , could not possibly mean he wished for my company.

"I would add," he said softly, "that if we were to ever meet alone in a library again, I might hope to discuss novels with you. I would not wish you to think I had ungentlemanly intentions."

"Oh," I said, willing my cheeks to cool. Of course he had not meant anything romantic by his words. He was an earl, and I was…well, not in a position to be courted by a man of his station. I could appreciate his intellect and ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. "I would enjoy discussing novels with you."

"And poems? "

I hesitated. I did not need a repeat of this conversation. Or, at least, not all of it. There were some aspects I would not mind experiencing again. "Perhaps."

He seemed to sense my thoughts, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Another time, then. I should go."

I nodded, and he gave my wrist a gentle squeeze before finally releasing it. I immediately missed the warmth, the feeling of comfort and kindness. I might never be favored with his touch again, but the moment would forever live in my memory.

And my diary.

Lord Emerson offered a bow. "Good day, Miss Scott."

He stepped around me and opened the door before I could regain my senses, leaving my words to wistfully float after him through the empty space between us. "Good day."

"Nothing has worked." Sabrina pressed her hand against her forehead as though confessing the failure made her physically ill. Perhaps it did. She had looked rather pale since returning from town, despite taking the water meant to ensure good health. For the last hour, I'd been forced to appreciate all the items she'd bought and then listen to complaints about how limited shopping was this far from London. The only saving grace for the afternoon was—true to her name—Grace.

My sister had joined us in Sabrina's room, likely because the duchess wished to flaunt her purchases. I hadn't decided how I felt having Grace with me. In some ways it was comforting and made the situation better. Sabrina tended toward kindness when others were present—a fa?ade that eased the threats and expectations I faced when we were alone—but I also did not wish Grace to fall prey to the woman as I had.

The possibility left me anxious. If only I could spend the afternoon in my bedchamber like I had this morning after my time with Lord Emerson in the library. I'd used the hours before Sabrina's return writing every detail in my diary. I didn't want to forget any of those moments or the feelings that had since lingered.

"Have you tried complimenting him?" Grace asked, her tone laced with subtle irritation. "Men always respond well to compliments, especially in regard to their masculinity."

"Everyone appreciates genuine compliments," I corrected from my seat on the window bench. "Neither men nor women wish to be coddled with falsities."

Sabrina shifted on her bed, her eyes narrowing. "Anything I say to James is genuine."

I bit down on my tongue to prevent my rebuttals from escaping. She had said a great many things to Lord Emerson that she did not mean in my presence. I could only imagine the lies she fed him when they were out of earshot.

"Maybe the earl is no longer interested in marriage," said Grace. She sat next to me, her attention focused out the window, watching the rain. A small smile pulled her lips, and she sighed. "Maybe one day someone will change his mind."

My sister spent far too much time reading romance.

"Well, I have convinced him once before," said Sabrina. "So he must not be entirely opposed to the idea of marriage."

Grace's attention snapped to her. "He courted you?"

I watched Sabrina, waiting to see how she would explain. Grace had been in London when Sabrina broke off her engagement to Lord Emerson, but I had been too devastated by the situation to properly convey the details to her, and with father's declining health, she and Mother had been too preoccupied to pay the gossip columns any attention.

Not that there had been much scandal. Sabrina had severed the agreement before the announcement could even be posted, a mere day after Lord Emerson asked for her hand. She'd spent the remainder of the Season pretending to have never been engaged to him at all, and with Lord Emerson fleeing to his country estate, there was no one to question her.

"He did, but I'm afraid the duke asked for my hand first," said Sabrina.

I gripped fistfulls of my skirts. The lies angered me now as much as they had then. Sabrina hadn't bothered to tell Lord Emerson of her decision in person. She'd written a letter and then forced me to deliver it. She was not the one who had watched his heart break. She never saw the devastation in his eyes.

"And you think he might still have a tendre for you?" Grace asked with slight apprehension. She had not taken well to Sabrina since we came to Fallborn but had kept her discontent with the woman concealed. Sabrina took no notice, but I knew Grace too well to be oblivious.

"I believe he might, which is why I have hopes of winning his proposal. Besides, he must be in want of a wife; rumor has it he was engaged to the daughter of a viscount just months ago."

I turned sharply to face her. "Lord Emerson is engaged?"

" Was ," Sabrina repeated slowly, rolling her eyes. "Do use your ears, Amelia. But yes. If the rumors are to be trusted, then it lasted a week before things were severed. The woman is now married to the Marquess of Keswick. Fortunate for me. A few months ago, I could not have pursued James without rankling Society, stuck in those drab mourning colors, but now I can lure him into pursuing me ."

Sabrina underestimated the earl's resentment. There would never be any pursuit from him, but that was not what bothered me about Sabrina's words. "You mean he has suffered two broken engagements? And one as recently as a few months ago?"

Sabrina flicked a strand of dark hair out of her face. "That is what I said. Honestly, Amelia, you must keep up. I grow tired of having to repeat myself."

"Should you not give him time to recover?" I asked, though why I bothered was beyond me. Sabrina had no concern for anyone but herself.

"He's had sufficient time." Sabrina moved from the bed to her vanity and examined herself in the looking glass. "It was to be a marriage of convenience. Supposedly, he broke it off after discovering they would not suit, but I think she preferred the marquess. A woman given the opportunity to snatch a husband of higher rank must take it, after all."

Naturally, Sabrina would defend such actions. But then, I hadn't missed her grimace in the looking glass. Perhaps sounding so much like her father bothered even her at times.

Grace shook her head. "That is not it at all. Lady Keswick is completely devoted to the marquess. She did not marry him for the title, but for love. "

"Devoted? But, Grace, how could you know that?" I asked, skeptical of my sister's romantic notions. She looked for romance even when there was none to be had as if life were a fairytale. "We are too far from Suffolk for you to know them personally. These things happen frequently."

Grace shrugged. "Maybe so, but Lord Emerson told me himself during dinner several nights ago. When he learned of Lady Keswick's love for the marquess, he released her from their engagement and took the blame upon himself until the two were married." Her shoulders sank with another content sigh. "The earl is such a sweet and charming man. He did not wish to stand in the way of love."

I smiled at my sister. She wasn't wrong to believe such things of Lord Emerson. He was kind, sweet, charming…and so much more. But he also knew what it felt like to lose the woman he loved to another man. He likely hadn't wished for the marquess to experience the same.

Which meant selfless could be added to his list of qualities.

"But none of this matters in the least now." Sabrina groaned dramatically. "Nothing I do seems to gain his notice. I fear his confidence has been destroyed by Lady Keswick. What if he cannot see that we will make a perfect match?"

If they were a perfect match, then why had Sabrina left him for the duke? If they were a perfect match, why had she put a title above love? I wished to ask her those things but knew better. Sabrina's designs on Lord Emerson had nothing to do with her heart. What I could not determine was why she was so desperate to remarry. Was it loneliness? Pride? I doubted either, but there had to be a reason.