The Unfortunate Debutante (The Beckett Files #7)

PROLOGUE

Miss Emma Pearson’s black dress billowed around her legs as she stood at the edge of her parents’ graves.

She could not stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks.

She was alone now. There was no one to protect her from the harsh realities of being a young woman with little income.

Her dreams vanished the moment she buried her father.

Her eyes shifted towards the plot of land next to her father’s.

The headstone read David Ernest Pearson.

The Marquess of Downshire had been gracious enough to send her brother’s body back to be buried in their ancestral cemetery and even sent along a marble headstone with David’s birth and death dates carved into the stone.

David had been an agent of the Crown and was killed while on assignment in Scotland.

A sob escaped her lips because his death hurt the most. He had been her best friend, her confidante.

What was she going to do without her brother? How was she going to survive?

After her mother died five years ago, Emma was sent off to boarding school, and she’d only just returned when her father had unexpectedly fallen ill.

Her father was a constable, but he also owned a general store in the small village of Totternhoe.

To her, he seemed unbreakable, and her heart had become saddened as she watched him withering away.

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. Crying wouldn’t accomplish anything.

She had to pick up the pieces of her shattered life and begin anew.

Somehow, she was going to survive this and become stronger because of it.

But first, even though it would do no good, she was going to allow herself the privilege of crying.

Walking through the tall grass mingled with red poppy flowers gently blowing in the wind, Emma put her hands down and ran her fingers through the soft, green blades.

Her two-level, thatched roof cottage came into view, and she forced herself to smile.

She could count her blessings amidst her trials and hope she could eventually find joy again. At least she had a home to live in.

As she drew closer, Emma saw a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and stern features knocking at her door. He was finely dressed, as was the beautiful, blonde-haired woman standing next to him.

She wiped away the last of the tears from her cheeks as she increased her stride. “May I help you?” she asked, stopping a few yards away.

“Is this the home of Constable Pearson?” the man inquired.

Emma forced down the lump in her throat. “I am sorry to be the bearer of sad tidings, but my father passed away over a week ago.” She glanced mournfully over her shoulder. “I have just come from visiting my parents’ graves.”

His eyes searched hers knowingly. “Are you Emma, by chance?”

“I am,” she replied. “Were you friends of my father’s?”

“No, we were friends of your brother, David,” he responded with a shake of his head.

A genuine smile came to her lips. “Please, do come in.” She brushed past them and opened the door, leaving it open.

“May I offer you some refreshment? I know we have tea, but I am not sure where it was left,” she shared over her shoulder.

“Why is that?” the woman asked in a polite voice as she followed her into the dirty kitchen.

“After my father died, our housekeeper left because I didn’t know how I was going to pay her wages,” she admitted reluctantly as she searched through nearly empty drawers.

“She left you?” the man asked with a frown.

Emma froze, and her eyes grew wide at his tone. Perhaps she had been too hasty in letting these strangers into her home. After a moment, her gaze transferred to the woman, and she found herself relaxing at the kindness visible in her eyes.

“I do have some money, but she urged me to keep it since she had already found suitable work in the village,” Emma explained.

“My apologies for my tone,” he expressed. “My wife has stated, on more than one occasion, that I can come across as boorish.”

Good, he’s married, she thought, as she continued her search. “I’m afraid I did not catch your names.”

“I am Luke, and this is my wife, Rachel,” he informed her, smiling, as he sat down on a wobbly, wooden chair.

Emma wanted to giggle as she saw Luke struggle to remain seated on the rickety chair.

“And what of your family? Do you plan to live with them?” Rachel inquired, the concern evident in her voice.

Turning around with a jar of tea leaves in her hand, Emma shook her head sadly. “I am afraid I have no other relations to speak of.” She placed the jar onto the table, her voice becoming strained. “I am very much alone in this world, and I must accept my fate.”

Blinking away her emotions, she removed her straw bonnet and placed it on the cluttered table. “How did you know my brother?” she asked as she started to heat the water over the hearth.

Rachel sat down near Luke as she explained, “David was assigned to protect me…”

Her words were stilled as the kitchen door was thrown open, and Peter Lockhart walked into the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that she had guests.

“Emma, there you are…” His voice trailed off when he noticed she was not alone. “And who are your guests?”

She shook her head and pressed her lips together. “Really, Peter,” she admonished, “you can’t just barge into my home.”

He huffed indignantly. “I can if you are my betrothed.”

“I never consented to marry you,” she responded, frowning. Why did he insist that they were engaged?

“We shall see,” was all he said.

Luke rose, and his commanding presence dominated the small room. “Are you engaged to this man?” His tone was abrupt.

Emma frowned as Peter advanced closer to Luke, then stopped. His mouth tightened, and his eyes sparked with annoyance. “You do not need to concern yourself with Miss Pearson’s welfare.”

Luke scoffed and turned his attention back to her, dismissing the man. “We were hoping to speak to you privately.”

“You may speak freely in front of Peter. He was my father’s solicitor,” Emma said as she walked over to a chair.

Peter grabbed a chair and repositioned it close to her. “I am now your solicitor, dearest.”

Emma glanced disapprovingly at the closeness of the chairs but didn’t say anything. Peter was handsome enough, with his chiseled jaw, brown hair, and broad shoulders, but his words were always too smooth, too rehearsed. It had been that way since they were kids.

Luke adjusted his waistcoat as he slowly sat down. “As we stated before, we were friends with David, and we owed him money, in addition to a great personal debt.”

“How much money?” Peter asked eagerly.

Ignoring his question, Rachel smiled at Emma. “David was assigned to protect me when I was in Scotland…”

Emma cut her off as realization washed over her.

“You’re Lady Rachel,” she blurted out. She turned towards Luke, her eyes wide in amazement.

“And you are Lord Downshire… or John, as my brother called you.” At their puzzled expressions, she revealed, “David always wrote to me when he was on assignment, and he predicted you two would eventually marry.” She grew sad and pensive.

“He considered both of you his friends.”

Tears welled up in Rachel’s eyes as she shared, “I also considered him a friend, but it was my fault he was killed.” She swiped at the tears streaming down her face.

“David tried to warn me about going down to the shoreline that night, but I was stubborn and refused to listen. I was attacked and he…” Her words hitched as a sob escaped her lips.

Leaning forward in her chair, Emma reached for her hand, her voice full of compassion. “You must not blame yourself for David’s death. He had a tendency to help damsels in distress.” She smiled, her eyes growing reflective. “He always looked after people, even if you ordered him not to.”

Luke grinned knowingly. “It sounds as if you have firsthand experience.”

“Heavens, yes.” Emma laughed for the first time in weeks. “My older brother was relentless in his protection of me, but over time, I grew to understand that was how he showed he loved me.” Her lips tightened, and tears welled in her eyes. “Excuse me,” she whimpered, “I just miss him so much.”

Peter reached over and patted her leg. “There, there,” he said, solicitously. “You must remember, it is not proper for a lady to show emotion in public.”

Emma diverted her gaze towards her lap but not before she saw Rachel frown with displeasure at Peter’s inappropriate display of affection.

“Now, about the money you owe Miss Emma,” Peter prodded.

“We do owe you ￡5,000, or…” Luke stopped and turned to look at his wife. Something passed between them, but she couldn’t decipher what it was exactly. He turned his focus back towards Emma and continued. “Or, you can become my ward.”

Her mouth parted in surprise, and she found herself speechless at his offer.

Huffing, Peter shook his head. “Miss Emma is sixteen years old and does not need a guardian. She is old enough to marry and begin having children.”

Luke’s eyes grew hard in response to Peter’s words, but his expression softened as his gaze returned to Emma.

“If you become my ward, Rachel and I will grant you every luxury that we can bestow upon you. We will continue your education, clothe you in the finest gowns, and prepare you for a life in Society, if you so desire,” he said, his voice kind and encouraging.

“You will not lack for anything, including love and family.”

Her mind began reeling with the possibilities. Could this be truly happening to her? If she became the Marquess of Downshire’s ward, she would be presented to Society. She would mingle with aristocrats.

Peter turned towards Emma. “You are a constable’s daughter. The ton will never accept you. It will only lead to more heartache.”

In response, Luke’s firm voice drew Emma’s attention. “As my ward, you will be entitled to a dowry of ￡25,000, and I give you my word that you will be embraced by the ton wholeheartedly.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide as she stared at Luke incredulously. “I would be an heiress,” she finally managed to say.

“You would be far more than just an heiress,” Rachel assured her. “You would be free to make your own choices, to fall in love, and choose your own husband.”

Leaning even closer to Emma, Peter’s voice grew hushed, urgent. “Do not be fooled by them. He wants you for his mistress.”

“How dare you make such an offensive accusation!” Luke shouted, jumping up so fast that he knocked his chair over.

Rachel put her hand on her husband’s sleeve, stilling his outrage. “Emma, you must believe that we only have your best interest at heart, nothing more.”

“Why would you be so generous?” she asked curiously.

Luke picked up his chair and sat down. He reached for Rachel’s hand, his eyes lingering on her face before turning back towards Emma.

“Because David was my friend. He taught me how to speak to Rachel and kept my secret, which allowed me more time to woo her.” He gave a half-hearted smile as his voice hitched.

“He also saved my life, but more importantly, he saved my wife’s life.

He gave his life to give me mine. Without Rachel…

” His voice trailed off as a tear rolled down his face.

“To repay my debt, I vow to protect you as he would have, to ensure you are happy and cared for.”

Emma could hear the sincerity in his voice, and she knew his offer was genuine. “Thank you. I would like to accept your offer and become your ward,” she responded, smiling.

“No, Emma!” Peter shouted. “We are to be wed.”

She shook her head in response. “No, Peter. I already told you, you’re like a brother to me. I could never marry you.”

“Don’t do this,” he urged. “I love you.”

Emma shifted in her seat, knowing she was making the right choice. Peter had offered for her multiple times, but she had always politely turned him down. For some reason, he had always assumed they would end up together, but that had never been a part of her plan.

“And I love you, too… as a brother,” she informed him.

“You will regret this, make no mistake of that,” Peter assured her as he stood up. He tugged down on his waistcoat before he stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Emma nearly jumped at the loud slam of the door. She slowly turned her apologetic gaze back to them. “He means well,” she said in a hesitant tone.

Luke rose from his seat and assisted Rachel. “We’re traveling back to our estate in Scotland. Would you like to accompany us? Or we can send back our coach, giving you time to pack up your home?”

Emma’s eyes roamed wistfully around the kitchen. There was nothing for her here anymore. “If you are not opposed, I would like to accompany you now. I find that my loneliness makes my heart ache.”

Rachel reached out and embraced Emma. Leaning back, she reminded her, “You will never be alone again. You are now a part of our family.”

A smile lit up her face, and Emma felt her eyes sparkle with renewed happiness. “Thank you,” she responded appreciatively.

“It is I who should be thanking you,” Luke maintained, stepping closer. “If you had refused my offer to become my ward, we would have been forced to abduct you.” He shrugged, his eyes full of merriment. “It makes life easier when a ward comes along willingly.”

Emma laughed as she started walking towards the stairs. “If you will give me a few moments, I will pack my trunks. It won’t be long.”

As she walked up the steps of the narrow staircase to the second level, Emma thought her heart was going to burst with excitement.

She was going to become the ward of the Marquess of Downshire, the heir to the Duke of Remington.

How her life had changed in mere moments.

She was going to socialize with the members of the ton.

Another, more important thought occurred to her. She wasn’t going to be alone anymore. She was going to be a part of their family. Perhaps her dream of being a writer wasn’t so farfetched. After all, nothing would be beyond her reach now.

This may be the greatest thing that had ever happened to a constable’s daughter, she mused.