Page 104 of The Forbidden Lord
“It’s nothing. I … I merely want to determine how long Lord Nesfield will be.”
She hurried from the room. She simply had to know if Nesfield was with Jordan. Or if Jordan had come earlier, and Nesfield had gone to begin the process of having her arrested. But she could hardly tell Papa that.
He didn’t even know about Jordan. She’d told him a friend had brought her to Willow Crossing. It was true, of course, but she hadn’t dared mention her possible future with Jordan when she was still so unsure of her own feelings and so much was unsettled.
It no longer ought to matter if Jordan had spoken to Nesfield. Even if Nesfield tried to make good on his threats, Papa had the means to prevent him.
Still, it mattered to her. If Jordan couldn’t trust her, what kind of marriage could they have? She could live without his love, perhaps. But without his trust? His consideration for her wishes? That would be the worst sort of alliance.
On the other hand, what she’d asked of him was almost too much for any man to do. Without knowing the circumstances, she was asking him not to interfere. Any man would find that difficult, but Jordan would find it next to impossible.
Worse yet, he might not even have reached London yet, and then she would never know for sure.
She found Carter in the dining room, overseeing preparations for the next meal as if things like this happened every day. “May I have a word with you?” She glanced at the other servants. “Alone?”
“Certainly, mil— Miss Fairchild.”
From the moment she and Papa had arrived, he’d insisted upon setting the servants straight about her identity. She would’ve preferred that he not, since it complicated everything and since Lady Dundee might have wished it done a different way. But Papa was too much a man of God to compound a lie.
She took Carter aside. “You said Lord Nesfield had gone to his club. Was he … alone? Or did he receive a summons to go there?”
Carter looked nonplused. “The only person receiving a ‘summons’ this morning was Lady Dundee. Lord Blackmore requested her presence at his town house. That’s where she is now.”
She stared at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure the request was meant only for her? It didn’t include Lord Nesfield?”
“I’m certain. Indeed, she told me not to tell her brother where she’d gone. She said that Lord Blackmore had requested it.”
The ramifications hit her with astonishing force. He’d done as she’d asked! She couldn’t blame him for talking to Lady Dundee—that hadn’t been part of the agreement, and he would have wanted to gather as much information as possible. But he hadn’t gone to Nesfield. That certainly said something about his feelings for her, didn’t it?
Despite reminding herself that it wasn’t all over yet, she couldn’t prevent the delirious happiness that lightened her heart. Hastening back into the drawing room, she sat down beside Papa with a secretive smile. Jordan had done as she’d asked. Her Jordan. Yes,herJordan. She could think that now. Assuming he still wanted her after this was over.
She and her father heard the carriage thundering up the street at the same time. He took her hand and squeezed it as the carriage halted outside. Then they heard voices in the foyer, but when someone finally entered the room, it wasn’t Nesfield. It was Jordan.
She gazed at him in astonishment as he strode toward her, with Lady Dundee and Lord St. Clair following close behind. He didn’t even give her time to introduce her father.
“Emily, Nesfield’s carriage is right behind ours. We have only a moment. I know everything—about your mother and the laudanum and about Nesfield’s blackmailing you.” When she scowled, he added, “And I didn’t get it from Nesfield, if that’s what you’re thinking. I haven’t spoken to him. I swear it.”
“Then who told you?”
“There’s no time for explanations.” Bending on one knee, he took her hand and kissed it. “Now it’s your turn to trust me. I have a solution that’ll keep you safe without hurting anyone, but you must let me speak to Nesfield first.”
“Emily, whoisthis chap?” her father put in, his eyes fixing on their linked hands.
“He’s … a friend,” she said lamely. “Papa, meet the Earl of Blackmore. Lord Blackmore, this is my father, Edmund Fairchild.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, sir,” Jordan said quickly. “We have much to discuss. But later, I’m afraid.” Ignoring how her father gaped at him in ill-disguised awe, he returned his attention to Emily. “I won’t speak to Nesfield without your permission. Will you let me do this for you? I know what I’m doing, I promise.”
“He does know what he’s doing,” Lady Dundee whispered, glancing over her shoulder as she heard Carter speak to her brother in the hall. “Let him talk first.”
“Now see here,” her father broke in. “We’ve got our own solution?—”
“It’s all right, Papa.” Jordan had asked her permission? Mr. I-Must-Always-Be-in-Control Jordan? A smile lit her face. “I want to see what Lord Blackmore has come up with. It can’t hurt, can it?” She cast her father a meaningful glance. “Please? Do this for me?”
Her father barely had time to give his reluctant agreement before Lord Nesfield stormed into the room.
“All right, where is the damned chit?” he thundered, then drew up short when he saw his sister, his rector, the Earl of Blackmore, and the Viscount St. Clair all gathered about Emily like a phalanx of soldiers protecting their queen.
He recovered quickly, however. “Out, all of you! Except my niece. I wish to speak to her alone.”
