Chapter 12
Emma was waiting impatiently for the ink to dry on the paper when Rachel walked into her bedchamber.
“It’s been hours,” Rachel started, “have you finished the article?”
“I have,” she replied, lightly blowing on the page.
Rachel stopped next to her at the desk and started reading. Her face remained expressionless as she read each line. Finally, she read the last line aloud.
“The Corn Laws are both morally and economically damaging, and we must put aside our political differences to take a stand for what is right.”
Rachel looked over at her and smiled. “Well said, Emma. I have no doubt this article will be picked up by The Morning Post.”
“Do you truly believe so?”
Picking up the paper, but being careful of the ink, Rachel read,
“Constables exercised underhanded tactics as they executed the warrant. The demonstration started off peacefully, but the constables beat everyone in their paths with batons, turning the tide. The images of bloodied and unarmed women and men scattered across the stones of the square will forever be emblazoned on my mind.”
Lowering the paper back to the desk, Rachel said, “Your perspective is unique. You attended not only the meeting, but the rally, as well. You saw firsthand the atrocities those constables committed.”
“It’s true,” Emma agreed, leaning back in her seat. “Those men had no regard for anyone’s welfare as they plowed through the people.”
“Why don’t I have a footman deliver this article directly to the newspaper?” Rachel suggested.
“Do you mean it?”
Rachel smiled. “I do. With any luck, it will be in the tomorrow’s edition.”
“Wouldn’t that be grand?”
Leaning her hip against the side of the dressing table, Rachel asked, “After submitting this article, what do you intend to do next?”
Emma tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I plan to write a series of articles about the Bow Street Runners.”
“Interesting. And who will be the inspiration behind those articles?” Rachel asked innocently.
“Wentworth, of course.”
“Of course,” Rachel repeated, amused. “I came up to inform you that Wentworth is downstairs. He wishes to speak to you for a moment.”
Rising from her chair, Emma took a moment to smooth out her gown, ignoring Rachel’s growing smirk.
“Would you like me to chaperone?” Rachel asked.
She shook her head. “We’ll just take a turn in the gardens.”
“But not in the east gardens,” Rachel admonished. “Those gardens are backed up to the woodlands. It’s not appropriate for you to travel that far together.”
Emma feigned an exasperated sigh. “I suppose I can follow that one rule.”
“One?” Rachel chuckled. “We’ve gone over hundreds of rules.”
Emma left her bedchamber and hurried down the stairs. For some reason, she found she was excited to see Simeon. It must be because she planned to interview him today. That has to be it, she thought.
The door to the drawing room was opened, and she walked in. Simeon was standing next to the window, the sun illuminating his face.
He turned to face her. “Did you have a pleasant afternoon?”
“I did. How was yours?”
“It was… uneventful,” Simeon said, clasping his arms behind his back.
She arched an eyebrow. “Why don’t I believe you?”
A chuckle escaped his lips. “You would make a brilliant Bow Street Runner, if not for your gender.”
“My gender?”
He took a step closer towards her. “Women are not apt to handle espionage and such.”
“That’s ridiculous. I believe I proved myself at Templeton Square.”
“Ah,” he smirked, “how could I forget? You jabbed the constable in the throat, and you allowed yourself to get arrested.”
“At gunpoint, may I add.”
He gave her a look of disapproval, but she saw the teasing glint in his eye. “A pistol would not have stopped me,” he declared dramatically.
Deciding to play along, she asked, “Pray tell, how would you have stopped a bullet?”
He took another step closer to her, and now they were only an arm’s length apart. “My dear girl, the constable wouldn’t have had time to get a shot off before I knocked him unconscious.”
“I fear you are prone to exaggeration, milord,” she joked.
Simeon chuckled. “And I fear that you are an impertinent thing.”
A smile graced her face. She enjoyed bantering with Simeon. It was quickly becoming her favorite pastime.
“Would you care to take a stroll in the gardens?” she asked.
Simeon eyed her suspiciously. “If you are suggesting a tryst, then I am most assuredly not…”
“Good gracious, no,” she rushed to say. “I was just thinking…” Her voice trailed off as her face grew increasingly warm, and she brought up her hands to cover her cheeks.
To her surprise, Simeon let out a loud, unrestrained laugh before he took another step towards her. “You’re fun to tease.”
“You are a horrid, insipid man,” she declared, lowering her hands from her cheeks. “It was cruel of you to tease me.”
“No, you’re just angry because I bested you at your own game.”
She had to concede that he did have a point. Tilting her head to look up at him, she replied, “You laughed.”
He gave her an odd look. “I’ve laughed before.”
“Not like that,” she remarked. “You almost sounded happy.”
He extended his arm. “A stroll in the garden does sound delightful.”
“Indeed,” she replied. “It will give me time to interview you.”
With a side glance, he asked, “What is it that you wish to know?”
She tapped a finger to her lips. “What is your favorite dessert?”
“Lavender cheesecake.”
“Favorite drink?”
He gave her a playful grin. “I love chocolate.”
“You drink chocolate?”
“I do, every morning,” he replied, puffing out his chest. “Sometimes two cups.”
She tsked. “What a rebel you are, milord.”
They reached the rear door to the gardens, and Simeon opened it for her. “Do you love chocolate?” he asked, standing to the side.
“Every woman loves chocolate,” she replied, smiling. “Do you like to read?”
He nodded. “I have an extensive library. However, I don’t utilize it enough.”
“Do you have a large family?”
A wistful expression came over his face as he responded, “No, but I have a younger sister.”
“Are you close with your parents?” she asked as they strolled through the paved pathway.
He stopped and grew serious. “There was a time when I was, but that was so long ago.”
“What happened?” she asked, turning to face him.
Simeon’s eyes held pain and anguish. “There was a girl that I loved from the moment I laid eyes on her. I knew we were destined to marry.” He huffed. “We even eloped.”
“You did?” she asked in surprise.
He shifted his gaze to over her shoulder. “I took all my money and went to secure a special license, leaving her behind in a rented room at the inn. But when I returned, she was gone.”
Hearing the agony in his voice caused her heart to tremble for him. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his sleeve. “Where did she go?”
“At the time, she vanished without a trace, and I continued to search for her for the next five years,” he said, his voice hitching with emotion.
“My parents told me that she must be dead and to forget the girl, but I knew she was alive. I felt it here.” He placed his hand over his heart.
“That’s why I became a Bow Street Runner, so I could investigate her disappearance. ”
“When you found her, was this the girl who…” she hesitated, “whose heart already belonged to another?”
He nodded. “It was. I was devastated. I pleaded for her to love me, but it was too late.”
“I’m so sorry, Simeon,” she said, knowing her simple apology wasn’t adequate.
A silence descended over them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. After a long moment, she broke the silence by asking, “After you found her, why did you continue working as a Bow Street Runner? Why not enjoy the life of leisure of a viscount?”
He chuckled. “You know nothing about being titled, do you?”
“I do not. In case you forgot, I don’t have one,” she joked.
His face grew solemn. “To answer your question, I was bestowed the title of Viscount of Wentworth a little over a year ago by Prince George.”
“You were?”
His broad shoulders slumped slightly, and his eyes reflected the tiredness of his soul.
Feeling a need to comfort him, she reached for his hand and held it tenderly. “You may not consider me a friend, but I consider you one. And friends share each other’s burdens.”
“My burdens are too great, Emma,” he whispered with pain in his voice. “I have carried them for far too long.”
“Then let me help you.”
His eyes grew misty. “My struggles and pain might bring you down.”
She brought her other hand up to cup his cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’m stronger than I look.”
Simeon’s eyes implored hers, and she hoped that he would trust her with his secrets.
He closed his eyes and asked, “What has Martha told you about her past?”
“Are you referring to Rachel’s cousin’s wife, Martha?”
He nodded. “I am.”
“She hasn’t told me much about her past,” she replied. “Over this past year in Scotland, we have grown close, but she hasn’t spoken about life before she was married. She just discovered she was pregnant…” Her words stilled when realization washed over her.
“It was Martha,” she breathed, “wasn’t it?”
Hearing her name out loud caused his heart to lurch, and Simeon kept his eyes closed. “It was,” he confirmed.
To his surprise, Emma wrapped her arms around him and embraced him. Her actions spoke louder than her words would ever have, and he found himself touched.
She stepped back but remained close. “I had no idea, Simeon. I can hear in your voice how much you loved her.”
He gave her a weak smile. “Emmett won her heart, and I got a blasted title.”
“How did you earn a title?”
Tilting his head towards a bench, he said, “I received it after an assignment that went horribly wrong.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
His initial response was to refuse her, but he saw the hopeful expression on her face. It was time for him to share his story, to trust another.