Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Emma’s heart still beat a furious pace as she stood outside the stables beside Sophia, her arm linked through her friend’s.
It was unclear which of them was supporting the other more, for they each had suffered a massive shock that evening.
The dark night closed in around them, and though the bustle of grooms and drivers was ever present due to the large number of visitors at the house, Emma paid them no mind.
She was not fooling herself into thinking they could keep this situation from their neighbors, however. Not with each of their coachmen in full earshot of Owen questioning Simon.
Platt had remained inside with Simon, ensuring he did not find a way out.
“I’d like to speak with him,” Sophia said. “Do you think that would be…would that bother you?”
“Of course not.” Emma squeezed her arm. The sounds inside the stables had grown eerily quiet, causing her no small amount of alarm. She didn’t want Owen to say or do anything he would later regret. “Perhaps we ought to go to them now?”
“You’d come with me?”
Emma paused, considering. She knew she was safe, of course. But that didn’t mean she wanted to face Simon again. Her body gave a shiver at the thought. “I will stay back, but I’ll walk in with you.”
Sophia nodded. Together they entered the stables and followed the voices around the corner to a stall near the end. Platt stood just outside it, his hands clasped before him, and Owen was in the doorway.
Sophia pulled free and stepped into the entrance, her brow thundering. “Simon, really,” Sophia admonished. “You told me to—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped. “You had one task, and you could not even see it through.”
His voice drove a chill through Emma’s body. She took an involuntary step back, glad she could not see him. The ordeal had given her a great fright, and while she knew it would take time to move past it, she had no doubt it was something she would overcome.
“Hard to do when you did not inform me of your plans,” Sophia snapped.
“As though you would have been amenable to them,” he spat. “I had to find a way to save us both and do so while you refused to help.”
Sophia frowned. “This was not the way to go about it.”
“I can see that now.”
“Could you not have spoken to me?” she pleaded. “If it was that important for me to marry for money, I could have tried harder. We could have gone to London for the Season and done our best to secure a decent match.”
Simon barked a laugh. “You would not listen. I told you to marry rich, but you have your head in the clouds. All your aspirations for love were getting in the way. If I did not compromise your reputation, you never would have secured someone the likes of Buckley.”
“I didn’t secure him anyway,” she said through her teeth.
“Neither would it have worked,” Owen added coolly. “I am already engaged.”
Sophia whipped her head to face him, then her shocked eyes rounded on Emma. “Is it true?”
Emma couldn’t help the soft smile that formed on her lips. Despite the terror she’d experienced that evening, this news could not fail to bring her joy. She nodded.
Sophia left her brother’s stall and crossed to Emma, pulling her into a hug. “I am so glad to hear it. You deserve every happiness.”
“Thank you.”
“Platt,” Owen said. “Will you fetch the magistrate?”
“Of course, sir.”
When the butler left, Owen approached the women. “I need to remain until Simon is secured and his fate decided. We’ll have this matter dealt with shortly, and then I shall join you if you’d like to return to the ball.”
“I could not dance in this state,” Sophia said. “I should find my aunt and return home.”
Simon made a frustrated grunt, but no one paid him any mind.
Owen gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll see to it your carriage is brought to the house.”
“I need to return to Primrose End for my gloves, but then I can accompany you to the house,” Emma offered, glancing down at her gown. The grass stain was visible, but this was her only ball gown, so it would have to do.
Sophia seemed to notice it at the same time. “It’s hardly noticeable.”
Emma was grateful for the lie, but she was hesitant to leave Owen.
He looked over Sophia’s head, his eyes focused intently on Emma. “I will see you in the ballroom.”
Emma let out a short sigh. “Yes, soon.”
One quick explanation of what had occurred, and the magistrate immediately agreed to come to the stables.
He questioned Simon with little success, but Platt explained what he had witnessed, and he and Owen both described what Emma had told them had occurred within the house.
It was determined that Simon needed to be taken to the gaol in Derby to await a trial at the next assizes.
It would be a blow for Miss Yardley, of course, but she must have known to some extent that he was a dishonest man.
Owen scrubbed a hand over his face, wishing his house were not full of strangers at that precise moment.
He wanted nothing more than a stiff drink and a quiet evening with the people who were closest to him.
But first, he would put on a nice smile and do his best to prove to each person in that room that he was marrying Emma for love.
Their rumors meant very little to him, but he would do what he could to lessen them for her sake.
Two women were leaving through the front doors as he approached, and his heart panged when he drew near enough to recognize Sophia in the darkness. She stood at the carriage door, letting her aged aunt climb in and sit as she waited for him to approach.
“I sent Platt to inform you of the magistrate’s decision. Did he find you?”
Sophia nodded. “It is only fair, but I cannot pretend I am happy to hear it. He is still my brother. I am struggling to reconcile the truth with the man I know. It is hard to believe that he was even capable of the atrocities he committed this evening.”
“You cannot be blamed for that. It will likely take time to come to terms with the reality of the situation.”
She shook her head, frustration edging into her motions.
“He’s been in such a state since our father lost the mine.
I do not say this to excuse his behavior, for nothing could ever excuse it.
His desperation drove him to madness, I think.
There is no other explanation that makes sense to me, and this was such an extreme way to solve our financial troubles.
It is…I cannot help but feel ill when I think of how scared Emma must have been. ”
Owen clenched his hand into a fist and forced himself to release it. “Has the port vineyard not been a good investment?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The vineyard he went to Portugal to invest in.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to the side. “Simon has never been to Portugal.”
A rock fell clear to the pit of Owen’s stomach. “The day I met Simon again, he had come off a ship returning from Portugal. We rode home to Briarstead together.”
Sophia’s cheeks pinked. She shook her head.
“I am afraid that must have all been orchestrated.” She closed her eyes but seemed determined to speak her mind.
“Simon knew about the contents of the will…you see, my uncle is Mr. Buckley’s solicitor.
Mr. Hobbs is my mother’s brother. One evening, when he was in his cups, he shared more than he ought to have about Mr. Buckley leaving everything to you.
Simon must have planned to contrive a way for us to be married so he would have access to part of that fortune in order to restore our wealth.
As it stands now, I fear we’ll have to sell the estate and move.
I’m not certain what else my father can do. ”
He straightened his cuffs, feeling every inch the fool for believing Simon’s tales.
Hobbs must have been his source regarding Owen’s travel plans as well, for how else would he have known precisely which ship he would be on?
Owen had informed Hobbs of his travel plans so he would arrive at Buckley Place around the same time.
“That’s terrible.” The horses stomped impatiently, so he offered a hand to help her up. “You are always welcome at Buckley Place, Miss Yardley. But your brother—”
“Yes, I know. He ought to keep his distance.” If he was ever released from gaol, but she did not add that bit. Owen was certain he would rot in prison, but he refrained from saying so as well.
“Perhaps we’ll find a new solicitor,” Owen muttered.
Sophia cringed, taking his hand to step into her carriage. “He is a good man.”
Owen did not doubt that. But all the same, he valued his privacy.
“Emma is in the ballroom with Mrs. Buckley,” she said.
He thanked her and closed the door, standing on the gravel drive as the Yardley carriage drove away.
Owen returned to the ballroom, all out of sorts.
Loud music flowed from the quartet in the corner, and dancing couples floated through intricate steps across the floor.
The groups gathered around the exterior of the room were chatting cheerfully, sipping at glasses and fluttering their fans.
It seemed an entirely different world from where he had been for the last hour, jarring him.
None of these people knew of the ordeal that had occurred.
They would hear of it; he had no doubt. Secrets did not remain so for long in this town. But for now, they were oblivious, and he was glad for a night to gather his wits. At least Mrs. Wickerton was out of town visiting family. That would buy them a little more time.
He spotted Emma speaking to his aunt near the musicians and began to make his way toward them.
Catherine tried to waylay him as he passed, reaching for his sleeve and tugging him to stop. Her feather bobbed along with her eager smile. She wore a gaudy gown of deep emerald with jewels at her throat. “Mrs. Cooper and Miss Cooper have been wondering where you went.”
Owen smiled at the women standing beside her, their hopeful expressions wide and glittering.
He was tired of trying to fit into the space she wanted him to inhabit while also remaining true to himself.
The two would never reconcile with each other, and if she could not accept that, he was done trying.
He had already told her he was not interested in Miss Cooper.
She ought to have listened. “I’m looking for Miss Darling. If you’ll excuse me.”
“But Owen,” Catherine said, tightening her grip on his arm.
He pinned her with a stare, losing his patience. “Emma and I are about to announce our engagement. I hope you’ll all wish me happy.”
Catherine’s grip went slack.
“Oh!” Mrs. Cooper laid a hand against her heart, fighting a frown. “Congratulations to you both. What a handsome couple you’ll make.”
“Thank you.” He bowed, then tried to walk away.
But Catherine kept pace with him, forcing him to step to the side. “What do you mean, Owen? You cannot intend to align your name with one who will bring scandal to our family.”
He clenched his teeth, then released the tight muscle and breathed.
There would be no reasoning with her. His mother only wanted him for what he could provide.
She and Father might have seen Owen’s inheritance of Buckley Place as a windfall, but he would not allow them to step into the roles of master and mistress and pull the strings of his life.
Some relationships were malleable, able to change and shift with time. But this one, he finally accepted, was stuck in the mold she had formed in the beginning. He could only try so hard, and he was tired of trying.
Owen smiled patiently. “I love her, so the rumors mean little to me. I know they are false. I hope you will do me the honor of trusting my discretion.”
When he walked away this time, she let him.
Emma’s long white gloves covered the places on her arms where Simon had left bruises, and her hair had been repinned.
She looked, for all the world, as though she had been in this ballroom all evening.
As Owen approached her, he absorbed the graceful line of her neck and perfect lushness of her pink lips, which matched her rose gown perfectly.
Aunt Clara stood beside her, and judging from her expression, Emma had filled her in on the events that had transpired that evening.
“He is gone,” Owen said simply, keeping his voice low enough not to be overheard. “Off to the gaol in Derby to await a trial.”
Emma’s shoulders relaxed. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but this was not the place for it.
“How wretched,” Aunt Clara said. “I cannot help feeling responsible.”
“I told you to go to the ball,” Emma reminded her.
“Yes, but if I had never insisted on moving to the cottage in the first place, it would not have been an issue.” She frowned.
“But I could not stomach the notion of standing in the way of your life, Owen. I knew you would never progress if you thought you needed to care for me, so I removed myself.”
“It was a little quick,” he said.
She shook her head. “Yet still, it took much too long for you to discover each other again.”
Emma looked at him with affection, and his heart surged.
“Now you are to be mistress of Buckley Place,” Aunt Clara said joyfully.
Emma’s cheeks flushed. “Come what may, I am more eager to be Owen’s wife.”
He pulled her against his side, not caring a whit who saw. “I’ve certainly waited long enough.”
“I do not wish to wait any longer, either.”
He held her gaze. “You look stunning, Emma. You are always the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but I especially like this color on you.”
“Always?” Her eyebrow ticked up. “Even in a torn and muddied gown.”
He chuckled. “Yes. Irrefutably. Even when I believed you to be a beggar woman at that first meeting, I was struck by how my heart still reacted to you.”
She started to pull away. “Did you say a beggar—”
“It’s not important.” Owen cleared his throat, keeping her flush against his side. “We shall announce our engagement this evening, I think. But first, we need to show everyone in this room just how real our love still is.”
Emma tipped her head back to look into his eyes, her lips forming a smile. “What did you have in mind?”
“Dance with me?” he asked.
“I would love to.”