Chapter 8
Sitting on a brown leather settee in Lord Downshire’s study, Simeon held a snifter in his hand, but it had long been forgotten. He was watching Lord Downshire pacing back and forth, and the anger radiating off him was almost palpable.
Miss Pearson was sitting next to Lady Downshire on a settee, and her eyes were downcast. Whenever she glanced in his direction, he couldn’t help but notice the sadness that lingered in her eyes.
Her normal air of cheerfulness was replaced with gloom.
He had to admit that it tore at his heartstrings.
Why does it matter what her reputation is, he wondered.
Miss Pearson is a beautiful young woman, well connected, with a large dowry.
He had no doubt a gentleman of the ton would recognize her for the rare beauty that she was, and she would have a blissful life.
He frowned at that thought. It was a life he would never know.
The door to the study opened, and to his surprise, Eliza, the Marchioness of Lansdowne, rushed into the room, followed by Lord Lansdowne and Lord Jonathon.
“Good gracious, Luke, what was so urgent that you called for an immediate family meeting?” Eliza asked.
Simeon quickly rose and bowed. “Lady Lansdowne,” he greeted her politely.
A gracious smile came to Eliza’s lips as she acknowledged him. “Lord Wentworth. What a pleasure to see you again.”
“No, it is not,” Downshire huffed as he stopped pacing. “Wentworth is fired.”
Not offended in the least, he placed his snifter onto a table and remarked, “I shall take my leave, then.”
Downshire glared at him. “You will not,” he ordered. “You were the one who got Emma into this blasted mess.”
“Language, dear brother,” Eliza chided, tipping her head towards Emma. “Your ward is present.”
“My apologies, Emma,” Downshire said, his eyes darting to her, “but she has landed herself into a most bothersome situation.”
“Another one?” Benedict joked.
Lord Jonathon walked over to the drink cart and poured himself a drink. “And what situation would that be exactly?”
Downshire lifted his brow at him. “Why don’t you explain, Wentworth?”
Simeon glanced over at Emma, and he saw that she had a pained expression on her face. Poor girl, he thought. He turned towards the group and started to explain.
“After we went to Miss Cosette’s dress shop…”
Eliza cut him off. “How is dear Cosette doing?”
“Very well,” Emma said, speaking up for the first time. “She sent her regards and informed me that she will be joining us for breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Eliza replied.
“Eliza…” Downshire grunted.
Pressing her lips together, Eliza turned her expectant gaze back towards Simeon.
“As I was saying,” he began, “we ran into Mr. Lockhart…”
Benedict spoke over him. “Did you arrest him?”
“I had no grounds. He didn’t do anything criminal in the square near Gunther’s,” Simeon explained.
“Pity,” Jonathon mumbled, sipping his drink.
Downshire tossed up his hands in the air. “Will everyone stop asking questions?” he exclaimed. “Wentworth hasn’t even gotten to the worst part, yet.”
All eyes turned towards him, and he continued. “After Lockhart departed, a closed carriage came barreling towards us, and I pulled Miss Pearson to safety.” He hesitated before admitting, “Unfortunately, I landed on top of her, and there were many witnesses.”
The room grew silent, but he could tell by the expressions that something had passed between the members of the Beckett family.
Rachel spoke first. “It matters not. We are here for Emma’s Season, and we are not going to retreat. We will face this latest hinderance head on.”
“It isn’t that simple, my love,” Downshire sighed. “Emma’s reputation is in tatters, and it may never recover from this.”
Walking over to the settee, Eliza sat down next to Emma. “We will sort out this mess. This isn’t the first time that a member of the Beckett family has done something scandalous.”
“No, but it is the first time that the ton has witnessed it,” Jonathon said, lowering himself down into an armchair.
Benedict walked over to the drink cart. While he was pouring himself a drink, he asked, “What is our battle plan?”
“Emma should marry, and quickly,” Jonathon remarked.
“No! Absolutely not,” Downshire exclaimed. “I will not force Emma into a marriage of convenience.”
Jonathon spoke up from his seat. “There are a few outstanding gentlemen that I could recommend…”
“No!” Downshire repeated.
Miss Pearson turned her gaze towards her guardian. “Perhaps it would be best if we left for Scotland. This Season has been a disaster for me, anyway.”
“Honestly, Emma, if you run away from this, I doubt your reputation would ever recover,” Eliza pressed gently.
“So, I should stay and fight?” Miss Pearson asked in disbelief.
Knowing this was his fault, Simeon found himself doing something he didn’t think he was capable of. He approached Miss Pearson and reached for her hand in her lap. He dropped down to one knee and held firm to her hand, despite her trying to pull her hand away.
“Miss Pearson,” he paused, correcting himself, “Emma. I don’t want to get married any more than you do, but it is inevitable.
I can’t promise love, but I can promise you the protection of my name.
” Ignoring the furrowing of her brow, he continued.
“We get along nicely, and you would have a title. Since this is a marriage of convenience, I wouldn’t expect an heir, or any intimacy of that nature. ”
Simeon stopped speaking and wasn’t prepared for the deafening silence in the room. Furthermore, everyone was frowning deeply at him. He turned his gaze back towards Emma, and she was staring at him with her mouth gaping.
Finally, her mouth closed, and she yanked back her hand. “Was that a proposal?”
“It was,” he confirmed.
“My answer is no,” she replied immediately.
He gave her a baffled look. “No?” he repeated, surprised by her rejection.
Before she could respond, Jonathon muttered under his breath, “That was awful.”
Benedict chuckled. “I stand corrected. Jonathon did not deliver the worst proposal ever.”
“Get up,” Downshire ordered. “You’re making a fool of yourself. My ward will never marry you, Wentworth.”
As he rose, he found his anger pricked by Downshire’s rejection. “May I ask why?” he growled.
“Emma will not marry a lowly viscount,” Downshire said. “Or a Bow Street Runner, for that matter.”
“I beg your pardon!” he shouted.
“Stop!” Miss Pearson exclaimed, rising from her seat. “I have my own voice.” She turned towards him. “Mr. Martin, your gesture is appreciated, but I do aspire for a love match. Besides, you don’t want to marry me, any more than I want to marry you. We are two vastly different people.”
“Is it because I am a lowly viscount?” he muttered.
Miss Pearson gave him a look of censure as she approached him. “You forget yourself, milord. I am just a constable’s daughter, and I do not aspire for a title. I will marry for love, no matter how lowborn or highborn he may be.”
“But an earl or higher is better,” Downshire mumbled.
Rachel sighed in exasperation. “Good heavens, my love. Leave it be.”
Downshire frowned, but his eyes softened when his eyes landed on his wife. “As you wish.” He leaned back against his desk. “We will all need to ponder on how to repair Emma’s reputation, but first, let’s discuss the other pressing matters.”
“Finally,” Lord Jonathon said, placing his snifter on the side table and leaning forward. “I don’t believe in coincidences, which makes me suspect that high speed carriage was no mere accident.”
“I concur,” Eliza replied. “Furthermore, Mr. Lockhart was quite brazen to approach Emma in public.”
“Perhaps it’s time to bring in agents to guard Emma,” Benedict suggested.
“Absolutely not!” Simeon proclaimed, tugging down on the lapels of his brown jacket. “I am more than capable of guarding Miss Pearson.”
“It would appear not.” Jonathon smirked.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “She didn’t get hit by the carriage, did she?”
“That’s a low standard for protection detail,” Benedict remarked.
Downshire drummed his fingers on his desk. “We need to keep Lockhart away from Emma at all costs,” he stated. “Wentworth, can you fill in everyone on Emma’s conversation with Lockhart?”
“I can,” Simeon said. “Lockhart supposedly found employment in town…” He went on for a few moments, reciting the whole conversation. He finished with, “Lockhart is extremely possessive of Emma, and I doubt he is going to let her go without a fight.”
Miss Pearson walked over to a tray on the back table and poured herself a cup of tea. She took a sip, then said, “Why would Peter want me to sell my ancestral home, and the lands my family has held for almost a century? He knows how important those are to me.”
Downshire reached for a file on his desk and opened it up.
He pulled out a piece of paper. “Lockhart did send over an offer for the land, but my solicitor informed me that the amount was grossly less than it is worth. He wants to burn your cottage to the ground and plans to build small cottages to rent out.”
“Why not rent out the cottage that’s already there?” Eliza asked.
Downshire nodded. “Currently, it is being rented out, and Emma is making a small income every month.”
“I propose we go and see if there is anything in the cottage that makes it worth burning to Lockhart,” Benedict suggested.
“I’ll join you,” Jonathon offered eagerly.
Benedict smiled. “Won’t Hannah be disappointed that you would be gone for two days?”
“Possibly, but twins are a loud lot,” Jonathon remarked. “I fear that I need a break, or I may go mad.”
Simeon placed his hands on the back of the camelback settee and leaned in. “I’ll go to the Bow Street Magistrate and ask for another agent to trail Lockhart. We need to learn where he’s working, where he’s living, and all of his habits.”
“Lovely. Another Bow Street Runner on the case,” Jonathon mumbled under his breath.