Page 14 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
Chapter 6
Emmeline stared up at Uncle Henry and Lord Rilendale, who towered over her. She winced in dread. The look in his eyes was inscrutable, but he had stood up and come towards her and sweat ran down her back as she stood firm.
“Uncle, please,” she pleaded, gazing at Uncle Henry and trying to ignore the imposing man who stared down at her, his slim features arranged in a look of shock.
“Niece! What in Perdition’s name...?” Uncle Henry laid a hand on her shoulder, gentle and warm. “Emmeline. What on earth has transpired? Whatever do you mean by bursting in here?”
His blue eyes were wide with concern, his mouth turning down with worry. Emmeline took a deep breath. Perhaps he was going to listen after all.
“Uncle, you cannot do this. You cannot force Amelia to marry that...man.” She tried to ignore Andrew.
“Niece, that is a matter for me to decide,” Uncle said firmly. “Lord Rilendale has come especially to discuss the matter. Amelia is in need of this. And Lord Rilendale is in need of a wife.” He turned to Andrew, clearly about to implore him to attest to that.
“If hemustmarry, then let him take me,” Emmeline’s voice rang out, a chill settling over her as the words escaped.
They fell into silence. Emmeline flushed red.
“What are you saying?” Uncle Henry whispered, horror plain upon his face.
“Let him take me,” Emmeline repeated. Her stance was rigid and unyielding. Though fear trickled down her spine, she held her ground, fixing her gaze upon Andrew. “I am not so fearful as Amelia, and my dowry is twenty thousand,” she added, meeting his icy gaze unwaveringly.
She saw his eyes shut briefly, then open and focus more intensely. She shivered.
Amelia was right. She was almost sure of that.
“Niece, please,” Uncle Henry murmured. His expression was shocked and worried. “Pray, allow us a moment to speak in private. Excuse me, Lord Rilendale,” he added with evident shame. “I must see to my niece.”
“Of course.” The voice could have been a wintry gust of air across the snow.
“Emmeline,” Uncle Henry said softly, as they hurried into the hallway. He shut the study door behind them and led her to the doorway of the anteroom across from it. “Please. You cannot understand this situation. I don’t know what you’re thinking. I am merely trying to help Amelia.”
Emmeline held his gaze. “Helping her? By binding her to a man so devoid of conscience that he murdered his own kin?”
“What?” Uncle Henry hissed. “Niece! What are you telling me?” He looked horrified.
He didn’t know, Emmeline thought, relief flooding her.
“I thought you had heard,” Emmeline said softly. “Lord Rilendale murdered his grandfather to inherit the earldom. The Ton all speak of it,” she added swiftly. She had confirmed that by asking Mama. Lady Radley had heard some rumour or other about Lord Rilendale while they were in Bath. Nothing in particular, other than that he was wicked. But that seemed enough confirmation. Emmeline had been so shocked that she had gone for a ride to try and recover. That was how she had happened to arrive just as Lord Rilendale’s coach drew up outside the house, and she had seen him follow Uncle Henry to his study. The shock of what Uncle Henry was doing had promoted her to do something rash. Now, she shivered, the shock wearing off, replaced with fear.
What have I done?she asked herself. She had promised herself in Amelia’s place to this wicked, murderous man who repelled her.
“He murdered him?” Uncle Henry prompted, bringing her back to the present. “His own grandfather?” He sounded horrified.
“That is what is said,” Emmeline replied, feeling a little unsure. She had no real proof.
“How was I not aware of this?” Uncle Henry whispered. The shock on his face made Emmeline slump with relief, all her tension draining. She sniffed, her eyes damp with tears.
“I do not know, Uncle. Perhaps because you are rarely in Bath or London, where such whispers begin,” she sobbed. “But Idoknow that Amelia is terrified. That’s why she’s not coming out of her room. She’s sick with fear. And... and...”
She could not speak, all the fear and shock of the past few days overwhelming her. She sniffed again, and suddenly Uncle’s warm arms drew her close, and she could feel his shoulder under her cheek, theleather-and-dust smell of him filling her nose. She took in a gulp of air, feeling comforted. Slowly, her tears subsided to hiccups.
“Shh, shh, dear Emmeline,” Uncle Henry murmured, his voice gentle. “It’s all well. Thank you. Thank you for telling me of this. I have been so focused on Amelia’s welfare and other matters that I failed to uncover something so grave,” he added. She stepped back, steadying herself.
“Thank you, Uncle Henry, for taking it in earnest,” she said with a sniff. “I was so afraid you’d be angry. That you’d think I was making it all up.”
“No. No,” Uncle Henry said gently, reaching into his pocket and handing her a handkerchief. “I am certain that whatever you do, you do it from love for Amelia. She and you have always been close. I know that you just wish to help,” he added. He gazed at her helplessly. “I cannot let you do this, though, niece. We should go to the City Watch and report this fellow as a murder suspect.”
“I’m sure they know,” Emmeline said with another big sniff. “But he’s an earl. Who would challenge him?”
