Chapter 5
Emma left the reception foyer of the Old Ship Hotel and strolled out onto the promenade of Brighton. With a satisfied sigh, she took the wooden stairs down to the beach.
Upon the stony shore, she paused to breathe in the briny air and close her eyes. The sun was just peeping to the east over the rolling seas of the Channel. She’d risen early, leaving Diana asleep in her room, and shocking the servants in the foyer at the sight of a lady out so early.
She’d bid them good morning and a quick goodbye. One had scurried behind her to ask if she might wish his protection, but she smiled at him and refused. “I don’t think many are out so early. I will be safe. Thank you.”
She curled her heavy shawl around her and began to pick her way along the shore. A few fishermen were out to sea, their multi-colored boats bobbing in the water like a kaleidoscope of children’s toys. One sleek sloop was anchored about a mile out. The weather was sunny and gay.
Just like Lord Weatherby.
Just like my heart which he has so consistently touched these past few days.
If she did not know him so very well, she might question his pursuit of her hand.
But she’d known him as a youth and as a young man, when one’s ability to conceal one’s true nature is nigh too impossible.
Yes, she knew Lancelot Winters, through and through.
So much so, that his dedication to courting her had turned her mind from solitude and grumpy spinsterhood to the delights of a union that could bring joy to both their lives.
“And we deserve to have it,” she said to the sea and the sky. “He has done his duty to King and Crown and I…I am finished with being captive to convention. Now I have a future that has set me free and given me even another chance to have that one person who would make my life sublime.”
Smiling to herself, she strolled west along the shore. The maid who had helped Diana and her unpack their luggage last night had told her about a new set of townhouses soon to be built west of the Steine and the Pavilion.
“Facing the water, it is to be, miss.”
To be able to wake up each morning, see that view and be able to walk the beach was a thrilling thought. I wonder if Lance would welcome that possibility, too.
Just then someone hailed her from the promenade above.
The strings of her heart played a happy tune at the familiar voice. A hand to her brow, she squinted at the sight of the magnificent fellow with red-gold hair and bright white smile upon his handsome face.
What is he doing out so early in the morning?
Lance took the nearest set of stairs down at a clip. In what seemed like a heartbeat, he was beside her. “Good morning, my darling.” He bowed formally for all who might observe. “I thought you might be out with the sun.”
“You remember all my foibles.”
“I remember all your habits.” He offered his arm and the two fell in together.
“Hmmm. Even those that got me sent to my room without dinner?”
He stopped and lifted her chin. “You will be coming to our room after our dinner and the delights there will cancel out all the past.”
She swayed toward him. “How I have needed you.”
He took her in his arms and put his lips to her cheek for the bliss of a moment. “And I, you.”
Tears marred her view of his grin.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. All is good going forward.”
“I trust you have done away with your highwayman’s attire?”
“In my trunk at the Old Ship. Under lock and key.”
“Say you will not do that again. If a Runner is on the trail of this…this Captain Moon-whatever then you must not chance appearing again.”
“I won’t. I promise that the only appearances I shall make will be by your side.”
“Thank heavens.”
“Because I do need to kiss you again. Today and tomorrow and all our tomorrows.”
She threw her head back to laugh. “No more scandals!”
“None!” He held both her forearms, looked above to the promenade and crushed her close. “I am kissing my fiancée.” And then he did that with a lingering ecstasy that stole her breath.
Her eyes still closed, she said, “You make my day heaven.”
“I have a license from Doctor’s Commons to make it so.”
She gasped but could not resist grinning at him. “When did you get that?”
“Last week. Wed me, my darling, here, tomorrow.”
“Oh, but I—”
He feigned a frown. “Have appointments, do you?”
“Well, I…yes. I mean no. This is sudden. You jumble my thinking. I…I came here to buy a house. Do you like Brighton? Shall I buy one? Would you live here with me…or come for a week or so in the summer when—”
He swept her up against his strong body and said, “Yes. Let’s buy a house.”
“And I promised to bring Diana out here. I cannot renege on that. She is a dear and deserves—”
“Everything. She does.” He brushed tendrils of her hair behind her ear. “You wore no hat this morning. One of my duties as husband will be to ensure you dress well…and undress even better.”
She guffawed and tore away to cuff him. “You are quite risqué.”
“Do I thrill you?”
“Yes, by god!”
He looked enormously pleased with himself. “Good. I mean to tempt you because I will press for you to marry me soon. I can, as your husband, you must realize, also help bring out Diana.”
“There is that.” She tipped her head. “I do love you.”
He went quite still. “I know. I’ve always known.”
A movement down the beach caught Emma’s eye. She’d noticed it earlier. A man out early. She thought him a fisherman or a shop keeper. But now. He was tall, thin, dressed in black with a red waistcoat. Alarm swam through her. A Bow Street Runner?
“Casually as you can, look behind you,” she said to Lance as she clutched the lapel of his frock coat.
“Yes, but why?”
“I think he follows me…or you.”
“Why would—? Oh, I see. You question if he is a Runner?”
“I do. Did you notice him earlier? Before you found me?”
“I did. But thought little of it. Now his continued appearance gives me pause.”
She noticed the man in question stood still, looking out to sea and mimicking their own actions. “He stops when we do.”
“When I return to the hotel, I will ask if a Runner has registered as a guest.”
“And if he is,” she said shivering in fear, “we should seek other accommodations.”
“No. If he follows me, that would only add suspicion. He’d seek me out. We will stay where we are.” He ran his thumb across the edge of her lower lip. “We will go about our lives as if he is not there.”
“Difficult to do. I want us to be happy.”
“We will be.”
“That’s right. You are not Captain Mmmm…” She winced.
He laughed. “No, I’m not. And a Bow Street Runner can follow me forever, but he cannot prove me Captain Moonlight.”
She cast off her fears. “What would you say to a few days here? To tell Diana about us. To allow me to catch my breath that I am so fortunate to be the one you love.”
“That’s the spirit.” He patted her hand and turned them back toward the center of town. “Now, first thing we need to fetch Diana to come down to breakfast and there, you will tell me where we go today.”
* * *
Emma and Diana gasped at the huge size of the modiste shop which the hotel reception clerk had recommended.
Their walk from the Old Ship Hotel up to the Lanes had been brief and beautiful in the late afternoon sunshine.
When the winds off the Channel stirred high now and then, they lifted the collars of their pelisses to keep them warm.
Mademoiselle Vernet, the owner of the shop, sailed from her workroom at the rear toward Emma. She was a petite brunette with a quick step and an air of efficiency that assured Em the lady was adept at serving her customers. “I am happy to welcome all of you here.”
Diana had presented both their calling cards to the dressmaker’s assistant as they had entered so Emma had no need to introduce herself.
She’d never indulged in fashion, having little need for it.
But now, she rejoiced in the opportunity to have a more complete wardrobe.
She turned to the modiste, full of expectation.
“I am impressed by your array of fabrics, Mademoiselle Vernet. My cousin and I have need for a few items. We did not bring all our wardrobes with us although we expected to spend the winter months here.” That plan would change now that Emma had accepted Lance’s marriage proposal.
“I understand, Miss Tomkins. The winter soon approaches and what seems pleasant today can change tomorrow.” Vernet spoke English with little accent.
“My cousin wishes to have a new wool cape and a walking dress to keep her warm as she enjoys the promenade.” Diana had envied Emma’s early morning stroll and at breakfast had said she would love to join Emma in the mornings.
Emma added, “Diana in addition has need of a ball gown.” Emma had received an invitation to a grand event five days’ hence at Normanton House, where one of Emma’s childhood friends was now wife of the owner, Sir Peter Somerville.
The house was less than an hour’s ride from Brighton, and Emma was excited to see her old friend, Penelope.
“I also need a ball gown and one other.”
The modiste was happy to oblige. “Of course, Miss Tomkins. I can do this for you. When would you like these? And do tell me about your color preferences.”
The bell over the front door jingled and Emma, Diana and the modiste turned to watch Lance enter the shop.
He glanced about the tables where fabrics spilled across the expanses.
He took his time surveying the walls where dozens of bolts of fabric stood for the customers to view.
But then he headed for a glass case where ribbons were displayed.
Emma felt the warmth of his presence, and put her mind to business. “I would like not only a ball gown of deep green, I think, but a day gown of some presence. You see I am getting married in a few days’ time.”
“Congratulations, Miss Tomkins! That is wonderful news. I have a few new silks here from Lyon and from Lucca. Come to the far table and I will bring them from the workroom to show you.”