Winning the Viscount’s heart (Regency Romance) (Regency Lords Book 2) (4 page)

Emmeline was a tad more excited than was seemly. But she cared not a jot. After all, at this rate she would be a
Countess
before month’s end.

A card had been left inviting the entire Knight family to Mr. and Mrs. Grove’s residence for an evening of entertainment. Emmeline had high hopes the Count would be in attendance.

Mr. and Mrs. Knight presented their apologies, since Mr. Knight had caught a chill during the day. They both were of the opinion there could be no harm in Emmeline attending though, as long as her brother Archibald was there to act as a chaperone.

Just as she had suspected the invitation had been extended to the Count, and he had graciously accepted.

The evening flew by. The Count focused all his attention on Emmeline.

“Your beauty is truly breath-taking!” he exclaimed, giving her a short bow and kissing her hand. He was acting almost appropriately today, which was odd. However, he had a glint of mischief in his eyes.

The only slight disturbance was the realisation that Lord Blackwood had also been invited to the soiree. He had been watching her interaction with the Count with a frown from the outset. Emmeline had no intention of letting his sour mood dampen her joy.

As the guests ate, Emmeline had to sit a small distance away from the Count as the difference in their social standing would not permit a closer proximity. However, the Count continued to give her sly looks and smile her way. He praised her looks and flirted with her across the table, without a care for what anyone else might think, and Emmeline blushed the whole way through. She did not mind, however. The room was abuzz with scandalous whispers.

After the dinner was over, the woman were to retire to the drawing room to have a spot of tea, whilst the men were to stay in the dining room with their cigars and port. However, the Count gave her a look and snuck outside on a pretext. Emmeline felt her heart flutter, and she deviated on her way to the drawing room and instead followed the Count into the garden. She was surprised at her own scandalous behaviour, however in that moment she was too caught up in the romantic nature of the night, to have her wits about her.

“Emmeline,” the Count said, grasping her hands.

“Your Lordship,” Emmeline replied.

“How wonderful it is to finally be able to display my love for you,” he continued. “To be able to hold your hand and not have to pretend like there is nothing between us.”

“You were hardly pretending very well,” Emmeline replied in a mischievous, teasing tone. “You pay me too much attention, your lordship. More than in proper.”

“Well,” said the Count, “there is only so much that I can do to stop myself. After a certain point, my admiration of you flows out of my and I can do nothing to make it cease.”

“I don’t mind,” said Emmeline, though she blushed and looked away. “It is rather pleasing to hear you speaking of me in such a way. I...I did not think that I could be so admired.”

“And why would you think that?” asked the Count. “You are pleasing, not just to the eye but to the spirit as well. Talking to you is as talking to a person of true culture, something that I have found sorely lacking ever since I came to England. Forgive me,
mademoiselle
, I hope I do not offend, I simply mean to say that the people of this country, and this city, are just not as...culturally refined as the people I am used to being with. You, however, have made me miss my home far less. Your personality reminds me of the women of my home, and that is a great compliment, I can assure you of that.”

“It is a wonderful thing to be admired so,” said Emmeline. “It is doubly wonderful since I admire you the same way. My mother has been very eager to marry me off to somebody, anybody, but I always felt that waiting for the right man was paramount. And yet, everyone would ridicule me for what they thought of as childish fantasies. A dashing gentleman that is handsome, cultured and charming all at the same time, does not exist. And yet, here you stand, and here I stand vindicated.”

The Count hesitated for a second and then said passionately, “Run away with me to Gretna Green, we can become husband and wife in but a few days.”

“My lord!” Emmeline replied, fanning herself. She was honestly lost for words, but she had to admit that she liked the idea of it. The Count was, after all, the man of her dreams. When one finds a person they truly love, marriage is the right path to take.

“Yes,” said Emmeline after giving it a few seconds thought. “Yes, I would love to marry you, I would be honoured, in fact.”

The Count grasped her hands again and looked as though he would hug her but stopped himself for fear of causing offence. “Oh my dear,” said the Count, “you have truly made me the happiest man in England. We shall elope tomorrow evening. Pack lightly my dear, for my fortune is enough to afford all the clothes that you would ever desire. I shall call on you in the evening and we will run away to be married.”

Emmeline and the Count parted ways, with Emmeline headed towards the drawing room, where all the women were congregated. However, Emmeline’s approach was interrupted by Lord Blackwood intercepting her. He had a stormy look about him.

Without preamble he looked at her sternly and said, “Emmeline, I forbid you to elope with this man.”

“Were you spying on me, my lord?” Emmeline asked indignantly.

“Heavens, no!” said Lord Blackwood. “I was out for a walk, the men were smoking and I had to get some air. As I was walking, I heard you and the Count talking and I heard your plans. You cannot go with him, Emmeline. Stop this foolishness now before your reputation is completely tarnished.”

“You know nothing of our love,” Emmeline replied. “He loves me truly; I know it in my heart. I know it from the way he speaks to me, from the way he looks at me.”

“Emmeline,” Lord Blackwood exclaimed, exasperation colouring his features, “If you do this, the Count is going to ruin you. Can you not see how he’s trying to charm his way into your good graces? If you go with him, you are going to end up ruining your family!”

Emmeline was shocked at Lord Blackwood’s boldness.

“What do you know of love, sir? There is not a passionate bone in your body.”

“You want passion?!” Lord Blackwood replied, his voice velvety smooth, lethal. Emmeline stopped dead in her tracks.

“Eh…yes. I mean, you are a cold man,” she stuttered. Lord Blackwood moved closer. Emmeline took a step backwards.

“You think me cold for not declaring myself with poetry and flattery?” A fire burned in the Viscount eyes, such as she had never seen.

“My love for you burns like an inferno. It touches such depth that cannot be explained by mere words,” he whispered. Emmeline stood mesmerized.

“When I see you with him, jealousy flows like lava through my veins,” he whispered only a hairsbreadth away. Had he tried to force her she would have resisted. But he did no such thing. No, instead he let the love that he had held to himself for so long shine through his eyes. When he finally kissed her, it was with such tenderness, it took her breath away. He pulled away from her slowly, the heat of his passion assaulting her senses.

The world stood still for a moment. Then Emmeline regained her sanity and did the only appropriate thing in such a situation, she slapped Lord Blackwood across the face.

He did not move an inch further away. Instead his gaze continued to hungrily devour her. Unsure of what to do she opened her fan with a flick of her wrist and started frantically fanning herself.

“I deserved that,” Lord Blackwood said. He looked her in the eye and added, “But I have no intention of apologising, because quite simply, I am not sorry.” With those final words he walked away. Emmeline was left shocked and confused.

Lord Blackwood walked away frustrated and angry with himself. What had he been thinking? He had behaved like the worst cad. Despite admonishing himself, the memory of Emmeline’s sweet innocence against his lips lingered with him. She would never trust him again. He had broken all norms set by society and the lady herself. Though their kiss would linger with him, for her it would be but an unpleasant memory. He clenched his fists in frustration. He was wondering if there would be no end to his torment.

After a long night of pondering, he realized that he had no choice. If he truly loved Emmeline, he would have to reveal her plans to the Knights. The only thing that would matter to him was the fact that she was safe.

Hence, the following morning he travelled to the residence of the Knight family and called on Mr. and Mrs Knight.

“Lord Blackwood,” Mr. Knight said, coming down the stairs. “What a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe the visit?”

“I am afraid that this is neither a matter of business nor pleasure,” Lord Blackwood replied. “I must speak to you of a thing of utmost importance. It is a matter most urgent, else I would not have come calling on you at such an early hour.”

“I see,” Mr. Knight replied, regarding him pensively. “Do come and sit down. Tell me more about this urgent matter.”

Lord Blackwood sat down in the sitting room and spoke. “Mr. Knight,” he began. “As you probably know by now, your daughter has begun to greatly admire the Count de Coligny. Based on his behaviour you might have the impression that he feels strongly towards her as well. However, I overheard him and another Frenchman conversing. He spoke of a long standing rift against someone, and how he is slowly planning to execute a plan of revenge. He spoke of how he was going to make sure that his vengeance was swift, and that his plan is already under way. I have reason to believe that the family he plans to avenge himself against is your family, and that he is going to do so through his attempted courtship of your daughter.”

“Lord Blackwood,” said Mr. Knight, his voice full of concern. “These are very serious allegations that you are making. I do not doubt a gentleman’s word, but what makes you think that we are the people he wishes to seek vengeance against? And what makes you think that courting Emmeline is part of this alleged plan?”

“Because courting Emmeline is all he has done since he came here,” said Lord Blackwood. “And I overheard him and Emmeline speaking in the garden last night. They were speaking of eloping.”

Mr. Knight looked alarmed.

“She is young, and she does not understand how dangerous the Count is. If he truly seeks vengeance against someone why would he run off with Emmeline unless this is all part of his plan?”

Mr. Knight looked as though he was lost for words, and Lord Blackwood could not blame him.

Mr. Knight called Emmeline down and confronted her about what she had been planning to do. Emmeline burst into tears.

“Lord Blackwood, how could you?” she exclaimed. She sobbed and ran outside. Lord Blackwood and Mr. Knight followed her, but she had run off into the green before they could catch her.

Lord Blackwood wondered if he had misjudged the situation. Perhaps the confrontation with her parents had only exacerbated the situation. Maybe he should have kept her secret.

How could he have done that, though? He truly cared for Emmeline. He loved her so much he was willing to never speak to her again to ensure she would not have to get involved in a plot that would undoubtedly ruin her life.

He had to find her, and he had to make sure that she stayed safe.

Emmeline did not know where she was going. Just that she needed to get away. The anger that had overcome her was now dissipating and she could think more clearly.

She was loath to admit that it was only partly fuelled by her parent’s discovery of her plans to run off to Gretna Green. The main reason was Lord Blackwood. Confused, she chewed on her lower lip.

She had barely slept a wink the previous night. Her thoughts kept wandering back to the moment Lord Blackwood had kissed her. She had yet to decide if that was a good or a bad thing. She had wanted to mull over it for the next couple of days.
How? When you are eloping
? She ignored the stray thought.

When she had seen Lord Blackwood standing there, next to her parents, the only thought in her mind was “did he tell them about the kiss?” Instead, she had faced the humiliation of being treated like a child.

She was now on her way to the Count’s residency. He would provide her with a true home, a home in which she would always be happy, a home where no one would question her judgment and treat her like a child.

Just as she started regretting the folly of running away from home on foot, she heard a carriage driving down the country road. She turned around and was relieved to see it bore the livery of the Count de Coligny.

The Count stepped out of the carriage and held her as she sobbingly explained that her parents were against their union and knew about their plans.

“My dear, once we are married in the natural beauty of Gretna Green, you will forget about all these minor disagreements. I assure you that I will do whatever it takes to make you happy. There is nothing that I would not give you.”

“Oh my lord,” said Emmeline, “You are truly a generous and understanding man.”

“Afterwards we shall of course go for a romantic honeymoon,” said the Count. “I would take you anywhere you wish to go.”

“Can we go to France?” Emmeline asked. “I have always wanted to see Paris. I have rarely ever been outside of Berkshire, let alone as far as France. I would so love to go and look at all the wonders that Paris has to offer! It seems a city of such romance, a city so free from the trappings of propriety. Oh, how I would love to live in Paris, among the artistes and the poets and the musicians, in a city that seems built on the back of those who seek to create rather than busy themselves tutting at the impropriety of all those who do not follow some sort of unnecessarily strict moral code!”

The Count smiled at her and said, “Indeed, we shall visit Paris. Very soon.”

Emmeline looked at the Count and something in his smile unsettled her. It seemed not the smile of a lover, or one who admires you. It seemed more akin to the smile of a wolf with its sights set on an unsuspecting sheep. She was disconcerted, but she struck the thought from her mind. She was sure she had been influenced by the lies that Lord Blackwood had been trying to whisper in her ear.

And yet, it seemed so odd.

Emmeline shook her head and smiled back at the Count. She shouldn’t think such silly thoughts. There really was no reason to.

“Shall we leave at once?” asked the Count. “I would like to be married as soon as possible. I cannot spend a minute longer than I have to not being one with the woman I love so deeply.”

“I guess we should,” Emmeline replied hesitantly.

They got into the carriage and the driver began to take them away from Berkshire, take them away from all the things Emmeline had always known. She felt bad in that moment. She was abandoning her parents, abandoning all the people who had always cared about her.

“My lord,” Emmeline queried, “Can we not wait a little while before we get married? I would so like my parents to attend the wedding. They have always loved me so deeply; it feels wrong not to have them attend. If you explained to them your honest intentions, I don’t think they would object to our union.”

The Count gave her a look. His entire demeanour was changed. Never had anyone regarded her in such way. It was a look that frightened Emmeline. It spoke of cold, icy rage.

“Emmeline,” the Count replied in a curt tone, “if you are to be my wife, you must learn to do as you are told. I am to be your husband, so I will expect obedience from you, is that understood?”

Emmeline was taken aback. Never had she been spoken to in a similar manner. Only then did she notice, he had a horse whip across his knees.

“My lord,” she said tentatively, “I am to be your wife, not your servant. I want my parents at my wedding, is that so wrong?”

“We will be married and then we can return to Berkshire and win your parents’ approval,” said the Count. “But we are not going to stop this carriage until it has taken us all the way to Gretna Green.”

Emmeline was starting to panic. This was not at all the man who had been showering her with his admiration for the last week. She decided it would be more prudent to disembark from the carriage now, whilst they were still in the countryside. The horses were not at a full gallop yet. Before she got the door open, she was violently pushed onto her seat.

“Count de Coligny, please stop the carriage at once. I wish to go home!” Emmeline stammered.

“
Non
, my little bird," said the Count. “You will stay here in this carriage and we will be married. You are going to obey me or find out the consequences of disobedience.”

All the while he spoke he tapped the riding crop against his leg. What had she gotten herself into?

In England, a wife was subject to corporal chastisement from her husband, short of bodily harm. It was a dirty secret known by all, but spoken by none. Especially among the gentry. The Count could whip her and she would have no recourse and nowhere to run. Emmeline cried silently.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of horses galloping outside. Emmeline parted the curtain that covered the window and saw that it was Lord Blackwood! She had never been happier to see anyone in her life.

Another horse was on the other side. The Count parted the curtain of his window and Emmeline saw her father galloping valiantly. The two men forced the groomsman to stop the carriage. Shortly after the door opened violently.

“Emmeline!” Lord Blackwood called. Emmeline scrambled out of the carriage and into his arms. “Oh, dear Lord Blackwood!” Emmeline sobbed. “You were right all along; I should have listened.”

“It is alright,” Lord Blackwood said, gently brushing the back of her head. “It is alright; it will all be alright.”

Emmeline turned to her father and hugged him.

“I am sorry, Papa” she sobbed.

“There, there my darling. I am here now.”

The Count exited the carriage.

“
Merde!
You know nothing of the wrong that has been done to me, to my family! Your family has ruined me! It is my turn to ruin you!” he shouted.

“Whatever my wife’s father did,” Mr. Knight replied in a cold and stern voice, “this is not the fault of anyone present here, least of all my daughter, you scoundrel. You are unworthy of the title gentleman.”

“I will have my revenge,” the Count continued to rant. “I swear it.”

At this point, Lord Blackwood did something out of character. He struck the Count across the face, hard, with the back of his hand.

“That is quite enough from you, sir,” Lord Blackwood said. “You are lucky I am too much of a gentleman to teach you the lesson you so sorely deserve!”

The Count looked like he was going explode. Instead he jumped into his carriage and ordered his groomsman to drive off. His plan was ruined, and there was nothing to be done about that.