The carriage traveled at a swift pace, and as they journeyed toward Merton Manor, Emma wondered if she had made the right decision. With foolish, reckless abandonment, she had climbed unthinkingly into Lord Stratton’s carriage and was now no longer in reach of the safety and sanctuary of her father’s home.
In deciding to join Lord Stratton, she had taken a perilous risk. But it was a risk deemed worthwhile if it meant that her efforts to challenge Lord Stratton ensured Windhurst Hall could be returned to Aaron, intact.
With her pistol held pointedly at the ready, she felt in control of her destiny, yet she knew staunch vigilance was still very much needed.
If her guard were to slip, Lord Stratton could overpower her, and then the reason for her journey to Merton Manor would be over. Her honor would be compromised. Aaron would not wish to have soiled goods, and her effort to reclaim Windhurst Hall would be pointless.
The road they were on twisted and turned. And as the carriage swayed from side to side, Emma looked out of the window and noticed a familiar sight―it was The Stag and Hounds posting inn. She had fond memories of her time spent there with Aaron. The night they had made love, exchanged kisses and passionate embraces, and she had become his for all time, was etched in her heart forever.
But the carriage didn’t stop at the watering hole. Instead, driving past the inn and surging onward, they continued along the Bath Road toward Corston and Bristol until they made a sharp left, heading in the direction of a small hamlet that was Newton Saint Loe.
Upon reaching Merton Manor, Emma noticed it was a grand building. Built in a gothic style with solid gray stone walls upon which grotesque gargoyles and surreal figureheads had been carved, it stood majestic behind a tall boundary wall in the subtle afterglow of the early evening’s sunlight.
Without the need of assistance, Emma swiftly alighted from the carriage, leaving his lordship to follow at will. With the assured steps of someone who was on a mission and had a purpose, she walked determinedly toward the house and entered through the open doorway.
She was met in the hall by a servant. He was dressed resplendently in a livery uniform, with a white powdered wig upon his head. “Good afternoon. Can I be of service, miss? I’m Lord Merton’s butler, Carter.”
Lord Stratton joined them. Setting down the hat, gloves, and cane he was carrying onto a nearby table, he said, “I don’t understand why everyone is in the habit of leaving their doors wide open. Anyone could enter the house and without warning. The place could be robbed.”
Carter bowed low. “All are welcome at Merton Manor, sir. And as a rule, we country folk are honest people. The most that might go missing is a pheasant or two, or perhaps a trout, but―”
Lord Stratton flashed a look of disdain in Carter’s direction, warning the butler he had overstepped the bounds of a servant. Carter had spoken when no response had been needed, and as a result, with a piercing stare, Lord Stratton had instantly silenced him.
Trying to ease the tension, Emma said, “We have come to enquire if Lord Merton is at home. We would like to see him on a matter of some urgency.”
“Certainly, miss. May I tell him who is enquiring?”
“Lord Stratton and Miss Brentry, if you please.”
“I’m not sure his lordship is in a condition to receive callers, but I’ll ask him if he will receive you and―”
“Show us the way,” Lord Stratton said in a gruff voice. “We haven’t come all the way from Bath to be told we have wasted our time. Lead the way, man. Take us to his lordship at once.”
Carter hesitated but conceded. “If you would care to come this way. I believe his lordship is in the garden room.”
Carter escorted them through a grand hallway toward a room situated at the rear of the house. With another low bow, he stood aside and allowed them to enter.
The room was spacious, and the décor was similar to that of her father’s house in Lansdown Crescent. Although Emma was not enamored with the new trend that had been influenced by the prince regent, her father was, and it appeared Lord Merton was as well.
Slouched in a high-winged back chair with his legs spread wide and feet stretched out before him, Lord Merton looked more than a little relaxed. He had a snifter in hand and a bottle of brandy positioned strategically on a mahogany table at his side.
Carter coughed. “A Miss Brentry and a Lord Stratton to see you, my lord.”
“Is that you, Carter? I’d said I wasn’t to be disturbed.” His lordship raised his glass unsteadily to his lips, and in one toss, he swallowed the dark liquid down his throat.
Although somewhat disheveled, Emma thought Aaron’s cousin to be quite handsome in appearance, and there was definitely a distinct family resemblance of sorts to Aaron. The only problem was that his lordship had obviously consumed an inordinate amount of alcohol, rendering him to some degree, incapable of clear, coherent speech. And that was a great disappointment. Had her journey been wasted?
At a glance, Emma assessed the situation and knew action had to be taken. Turning to Carter, she said, “We shall need a large pot of coffee, or tea, or something. Anything but spirits. And these windows must be opened to let in some air. This room is stifling.”
Emma went to the windows, and lifting the frames high, allowing fresh air to enter and circulate, she then crossed to the French doors and flung them wide.
“Much better,” she said to no one in particular. “Coffee, Carter…and now if you please!”
“Yes, miss.” Carter closed the door firmly behind him as he left the room.
Lord Merton momentarily surfaced from his stupor and realized he was no longer alone.
“Ye gods, man! If it ain’t Stratton. What the devil are you doing in this neck of the woods? Newton Saint Loe ain’t the sort of place I’d expect to find you. Especially not at this time of year. I would have thought you to be in London, prancing on the dance floor at Almack’s or spending a night in Vauxhall Gardens, hunting for women. What brings you to my door, Stratton? And with such a delightful companion too. And who might you be, my dear?”
There was a lecherous look in his lordship’s eyes as he leered in Emma’s direction.
Ignoring his suggestive innuendo, and not even offering a respectful curtsy, Emma stepped forward and said, “Lord Merton, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Emma Brentry. I’ve come from Bath and―”
Lord Stratton rudely held up his hand, stopping Emma mid-sentence. He then turned to Lord Merton and said, “I believe Miss Brentry has an avid interest in Windhurst Hall. She is eager to speak with you on a matter concerning Trent.”
Emma looked at Lord Stratton, and with a frown, she shook her head. “I think now is not the time to discuss the reason why I am here. As you can see, his lordship is…uum…slightly the worse for wear.”
“You mean in his cups?”
“It will be best if his lordship has a chance to compose himself before I broach the subject of―”
“But Merton is always under the table. Aren’t you, old chap? There never is a right moment.”
“Never sober if I can help it. Don’t see the point of being clear-headed. A person who is a teetotaler is always such a bore.” Lord Merton reached for the decanter at his side and, with an unsteady hand, started to refill his empty glass.
Without the formality of knocking, Carter entered the room. He’d returned with a tray laden with a mishmash of refreshments and was looking for a place to set it down.
“Where would you like this, miss?” he asked.
Emma walked to the chaise-lounge and sat. Pointing to the table in front of her, she said, “You may set the tray here, Carter. But before you leave, you can remove Lord Merton’s drink from his hand while I pour some of this excellent coffee you have made for us.”
Carter looked taken aback, but he did as ordered. Lord Merton grimaced his objection as his glass of brandy was removed only to be replaced with the proffered hot beverage. He mumbled a few choice expletives.
With one pout of censure from Emma, he drank.
“Now, what’s so urgent that it cannot wait until I come to town?” he asked.
As Carter withdrew from the room, taking the brandy decanter with him, Emma took a sip of her drink and then placed her cup and saucer down. “It concerns your promissory note. The note pertaining to Windhurst Hall, which I believe you gave to Cuthbert Williams and is now to be found in the hands of Lord Stratton.”
Sitting a little more upright in his chair and alert, Lord Merton asked, “Is this true, Stratton? Have you acquired my note?”
“I have indeed.” Lord Stratton smirked.
“Lord Merton,” Emma said, gaining his attention. “During the carriage ride to Newton Saint Loe, I had a chance to think, and I’ve come to a decision. I think I would like to pay off your debt.”
“And why would you want to do that?” Lord Merton asked.
She laced her hands in front of her. “I would like to return Windhurst Hall to its rightful owner―your cousin, Mr. Trent.”
Lord Stratton scoffed. “That’s not going to happen. Not while I have the note. The note gives me title to the property and―”
“Sounds like a reasonable idea to me,” said Lord Merton. “If Miss Brentry pays off my debt, you can redeem your money, and my cousin gets his home back. It doesn’t matter to me who pays the debt, as long as I’m clear of it. It’s a winning situation for everyone. Beneficial for all. That is, everyone except Miss Brentry, of course. What do you hope to gain by this transaction, Miss Brentry?”
“My financial loss need not worry you, my lord. I will benefit in other ways.”
Lord Stratton gave a cruel laugh. “She hopes to marry your cousin. With her money, she intends to buy a marriage, a husband, and a home. That’s exactly what she’s after, and I’ll be dammed if I’ll accommodate Miss Brentry in achieving her ends. And as for Trent, all he wants is her money to pay off your debt.”
“Well, now…that puts a different light on the matter,” Lord Merton said dryly. “So you’re prepared to buy my cousin and all he has to offer, are you?”
Emma felt ashamed because that was exactly her intention. Only now there was the matter of having fallen in love with Aaron. And yes, she did love him. She had come to love him deeply. It had crept up on her without her knowing until it had become an all-consuming, possessive desire.
At first, she’d lusted after his body, but as she got to know him, she’d grown to love him for who he was—a kind and understanding man.
At night, when she longed to be held in his arms and feel his touch, she had often cried because he wasn’t there. And then she had cried again because she knew it wasn’t her body that Aaron would want, but her money.
“It’s not like that… It’s not what you think. I’m marrying Aaron for a good reason. I want to return Windhurst Hall to him and―”
“If you only want to return Windhurst Hall, then here’s the deal,” said Lord Stratton. “If you’re prepared to marry me, Trent gets Windhurst Hall and I get you.”
“What do you mean?” Emma asked, perplexed. She thought she had made her feelings clear on that subject. She had no desire to wed his lordship.
“Marry me and I’ll hand over the promissory note and relinquish my rights to the property completely. But you have to agree to be my bride.”
Emma stared open-mouthed at Lord Stratton. Was he serious? Did he really want to marry in exchange for the note? Marriage to Lord Stratton could be her only means of getting Windhurst Hall back to Aaron, but it would also mean a prison sentence for her. To be tied to that man for the rest of her life was unthinkable…but she would do it…for Aaron.
“You still want to marry…me?” Emma asked.
“And that is not going to happen,” said an angry voice from the doorway.
Everyone turned to see who had spoken.
Aaron was standing in the doorway, and he looked terrifyingly menacing.