Having traveled through the gently rolling hills of Wiltshire’s countryside in the phaeton, Aaron and Emma soon reached the town of Bath. The journey had been free from mishap, and a change of horses had not been needed. With the turnpikes paid and the weather unexpectedly mild, Aaron had found the journey with Emma to be surprisingly pleasant.
Not accustomed to entertaining females with frivolous conversation, he was delighted she hadn’t bored him with idle chit-chat. Occasionally they shared a remark about a village they passed or a landmark spotted in the distance, but thankfully, no awkward silences had prevailed.
Discounting the fact they hadn’t known one another until yesterday, and taking into account the awkwardness that could have followed after such an ardent, passionate, and heated night of lovemaking, Aaron felt remarkably at ease in Emma’s company.
She seemed not at all embarrassed by their shared experience of fervent coupling and was, in fact, glowing with noticeable confidence.
The only uncomfortable moment throughout their stay at The Stag and Hounds posting inn had been when the landlady stopped them before their departure. Mrs. Griffin had kindly informed them that the stable hand had found a discarded shirt and a crumpled chemise in the hayloft. She had then asked if by any stretch of the imagination, the items could possibly belong to them, and if they did, would they like the clothing washed, mended, and then forwarded to their separate abodes?
With difficulty, Aaron had maintained his composure. But Emma, unable to keep her countenance, had blushed profusely and turned away, coughing and spluttering into her handkerchief.
No one was fooled by their adamant explanation that the clothes were not theirs. And with a nod and a wink, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin had waved them off on their journey, entreating them to return to the inn at their leisure, whenever an evening alone was desired.
Leaving the outskirts of Bath and entering the city proper, Aaron noticed the streets were bustling with traffic. Having left The Stag and Hounds reasonably early, they had made good time and had reached Bath just as the abbey’s clock chimed the hour of noon. Carriages and carts of every sort were to be seen upon the road, and the fine weather had brought residents and traders of Bath out in droves.
“I have no notion where I am to set you down, so you must direct me. Whereabouts does your father live?” he asked.
With a flick of the whip over the horses’ heads, Aaron steered the phaeton to the side of the road to avoid a collision with a black sedan chair. The chairmen were undoubtedly carrying an invalid to Bath spa so that the waters might be taken, and with the heavy weight of their cargo, they appeared to be staggering.
It was that time of year when well-to-do people from London and surrounding cities tended to flock to Bath for health reasons and to drink the spa water; and also of an evening, to socialize at the pump rooms.
Emma lifted her hand to her bonnet, shading her eyes from the bright sunlight, and she smiled at Aaron. “We have a house on Lansdown Crescent,” she told him. “It is not too distant from Pulteney Bridge. And you? Where do you stay when in Bath?”
Keeping a diligent eye on the various carriages on the road, Aaron glanced at Emma as she sat graciously at his side. She was indeed prettier than he had first thought her to be. Before, he had considered her passable. But this morning, with a glow of serine contentment about her and a smile that lit her face, she was beautiful.
Beneath Emma’s straw bonnet, her dark curls framed her face exquisitely. Her white, sprig muslin dress with matching spencer was tailored to enhance her figure to perfection. And her flawless, peach complexion and wide, excited eyes were a delight to behold.
Memories of the passionate encounter they had shared sprang to mind. He recalled how her body had looked, felt, and tasted, as she lay beneath him. She had clung to him with desperation as they made love, and the thought of what had passed between them stirred the need to possess her once again.
Aaron had to control his desires. They were soon to part, and it was best if he put all thought of their lovemaking from his mind and concentrated on the matter at hand.
“For some years, I have had rooms in St. James’s Square,” he said. “They are nothing much to speak of, but suffice for when I come to town.”
Spurring the horses on, they soon reached Lansdown Crescent. With a tug on the reins, Aaron brought the phaeton to a halt outside a row of elegant terraced houses. The honey-colored, stone-fronted buildings were four-stories in height and curved in a gentle quarter-moon shape. There was a wide slabbed paving pedestrian walkway, and across the road, beyond the gardens, clear views over the city of Bath were to be had. It was a prestigious neighborhood, and Aaron was impressed.
Aaron turned to Emma. “I’m afraid I am unable to assist you down and escort you to your door. I’m sure you realize I cannot leave these horses standing.”
“Of course,” she said. Hurriedly, Emma prepared to climb from the phaeton. “I’ll have a footman come to collect my belongings. It will take but a moment, and I shall try not to detain you much longer.”
It was then that a door to one of the elegant town houses opened and a gentleman of senior years emerged. He was dressed in a long, padded, velvet dressing gown that was a deep red in color. Careless of who might observe his state of near undress, the gentleman hurriedly approached with his arms held wide in greeting. His dressing gown flapped open in the breeze, displaying a striped, cotton nightshirt beneath his robe, and the fact that the slippers he wore barely stayed on his feet seemed not to bother him in his haste to reach his morning callers.
“Emma, I spied your arrival from the bedchamber window. Where have you been, and what are you up to? Why are you with this fellow and not with Gresham? Speak. Tell me what has happened. Where is Gresham? And where is our carriage? What in the world is going on?”
The gentleman seemed truly concerned, and it was clear he was worried for Emma’s welfare. As he paced back and forth on the wide, stone slabs of the pavement, waiting for Emma to climb from the phaeton, his annoyance appeared to build.
“Papa, do not fuss so. All is well. As you can see, this kind gentleman has returned me safe and sound to you.”
Mr. Brentry came to a halt beside the carriage. With an angry stare, he looked up at Aaron and asked, “You sir…who the devil are you? And why are you with my daughter? How dare you abduct her in this atrocious manner!”
“Papa, may I introduce you to Mr. Aaron Trent.” Emma’s voice was calm and had the desired effect. Mr. Brentry visibly relaxed. “Mr. Trent very kindly came to my aid and offered assistance when a wheel of our carriage broke. Without his help, I would still be stranded and completely alone on the Bath Road. Mr. Trent, as you may have gathered, this is my dear father, Mr. Winston Brentry.”
Both gentlemen nodded, acknowledging the introduction.
Mr. Brentry, having been calmed by Emma’s assurances, realized his daughter had encountered some difficulty and that Aaron had come to her rescue.
“It seems I’m in your debt, sir.” Mr. Brentry bowed his head. “I beg your pardon if I was a little abrupt. But a parent does tend to worry if their child returns home with a stranger. No slight was meant to you in person, Mr. Trent.”
“None was taken. I fully understand your concern. Emma…I mean, Miss Brentry…is back, and that is all that matters.”
“Indeed it is,” said Mr. Brentry. “As long as she is unharmed and intact, nothing else matters.”
Intact! Aaron’s gaze collided with Emma’s. And at that moment, their thoughts veered to what had transpired in the hayloft and bedchamber as they had made love long into the night.
Safe…she might be. Intact…that could no longer be said of her.
“I am home, Papa. Be thankful Mr. Trent has brought me to your door.”
“And where are Gresham and the barouche? What has become of them?”
“They are safe. They should arrive by this evening, or tomorrow at the latest. Before leaving Corston, Mr. Trent kindly sent for a wheelwright. And you need have no concern for the horses. They have been well cared for. I can personally vouch for the quality of the hay and bedding in the stables at The Stag and Hounds. Everything in the barn was most excellent, and I would be very happy to stay there again.”
Aaron smiled at her words and hoped Mr. Brentry remained oblivious to the innuendo behind them.
Two footmen appeared and stood respectfully at a distance. They were waiting to receive orders from Mr. Brentry.
“Mr. Trent, would you care to come inside and take refreshments? You must be weary from your journey. You’re most welcome to stay for a while.”
Mr. Brentry gestured to the footmen, signaling for them to assist his daughter.
Emma had climbed from the phaeton and was now directing the servants to remove her portmanteau and baggage. Instructing the footmen to take her belongings into the house, she then turned and held up a hand toward Aaron.
He was surprised by this gesture, but taking her proffered hand in his, he held her fast.
“I wish to thank you,” she said. “I do not know what I would have done without your assistance. It was an enjoyable encounter, although in my opinion, much too brief. As a reward for your excellent services, I would like to invite you to the rout party we are holding next week. I hope perhaps we can meet and come together once again before you have to return to Windhurst Hall.” Emma glanced teasingly up at him, and he had no problem understanding her innuendoes. “You will be most welcome to join us. In fact, I think I must insist you do so. Papa, do you not agree that Mr. Trent must attend our party. After all he has done for me, we cannot let him vanish from our lives so easily.”
“Are we holding a party, my dear?” Mr. Brentry looked perplexed.
“We are,” Emma said. “And I believe a friend of Mr. Trent’s will also be in town next week. Papa, remind me to send an invitation to Lord Stratton. I’m sure he will be more than interested to know under what circumstances Mr. Trent and I met, and to discover how well we have come to know one another.”
“Ah…Lord Stratton,” Aaron said.
“You know Lord Stratton?” asked Mr. Brentry with keenness. His enthusiasm was clear. “An excellent fellow, is he not? Someone once told me he was on the hunt for a wife, and upon making his acquaintance, I’m certain he will make a first-rate husband for Emma. His pockets are well-lined, and he comes from a good family. A lord’s title is not to be sniffed at. Mr. Trent, you must come and see his lordship. I believe his estates are in Berkshire, which means I shall sorely miss my Emma when she is a married woman and living there. But if that is the price one must pay for her to become a lady, then so be it.”
Mr. Brentry appeared unconcerned that while standing on a public walkway outside his home, he was holding a confidential conversation with a total stranger. Dressed only in his night attire, the inappropriateness of his actions seemed to have passed him by. But Aaron saw that Emma was aware of the incorrectness of this conduct by the subtle way in which she voiced her concerns.
“Papa, now is not the time or place for this debate. I think we must go indoors. You will have ample opportunity to continue this delightful conversation about my marital prospects when Mr. Trent joins us next week.”
Aaron realized attending the rout would only prolong their acquaintance. And he would prefer to have a clean break.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to attend,” he told her. “This week, I have commitments elsewhere. I plan to call upon my solicitor, then I must return to Windhurst Hall as soon as possible. There is much to be done.”
Emma smiled at him. “You are invited, sir. An invitation shall be sent to St. James’s Square, and the choice is yours. You may choose to attend…or not.” Without offering further persuasion, she turned and walked toward the house.
Strangely, he felt a sense of loss and regret. Although their encounter had been fleeting, it had been intense, and as a result, he was left with a desire to know her better.
But unfortunate as it was, he decided he would not join the rout party, even though he would dearly have loved the chance to encounter Miss Emma Brentry once again. It would be best if he kept his distance.
* * * *
At the first opportunity, Aaron called upon his solicitor, Mr. Edward Templeton on Broad Street, to seek advice concerning Windhurst Hall. The two men had known one another for a number of years, and over time, they had become firm friends.
Standing at the office window, Aaron looked out at the people promenading down below. He was thinking how his life might have been had he not gone to war and fought against Bonaparte. That battle had cost him dearly. Not only had he fought for his country and nearly lost, he had also been made to fight for his life―for his very survival.
Even now, having returned to the sanctuary of England, all was not safe. Through his cousin’s selfish actions, he was now forced to defend his rights to ownership of his own land and his home. The battle was not over yet.
Aaron shook his head. The weight of despair and despondency sat heavy on his shoulders.
“Had I known what Phillip intended, I would have made other arrangements for Windhurst Hall during my absence. But what is done, is done. I must move forward.”
Edward nodded. “You are right. You should never have given your cousin the power to manage your estate. But in all fairness, you weren’t to know what would happen. Had I an inkling of what he intended, as your solicitor, of course, I would have advised differently.”
“You did advise me. You said I should think twice before I signed the document, but fool that I was, I did not listen.” Aaron crossed the room. Edward was sitting at his desk, and Aaron took a seat opposite. “Edward, how am I to get Windhurst Hall back from the clutches of that cad, Cuthbert Williams? As my solicitor, you have set out my options. We have agreed it would be impossible to take legal action against Phillip as my signature gave him power of attorney.” Aaron shrugged his shoulders. “So, looking at it objectively, I don’t have a leg to stand on, do I?”
Edward solemnly shook his head. “Afraid not.”
“So, now as my friend, advise me.”
Shuffling a few papers on the desk, Edward looked up and said, “In order to regain Windhurst Hall, you need to find some money to pay off the promissory note. Williams won’t relinquish his rights unless Lord Merton’s debt is paid in full. Have you no one you can ask for a loan?”
“I’ve thought about asking my bankers.”
“I would suggest you do not approach your bank. The interest they charge would take you years to repay. And money lenders are out of the question. Is there no one else?”
Aaron stood and returned to the window. Squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun, he looked absently at the passersby outside as his thoughts wandered to Emma.
“Strange as it might seem, there is…someone,” he said.
“And this someone might help?”
“I’m not sure. We’ve only recently met, and she offered assistance to―”
“She?”
“Yes…a Miss Emma Brentry. We met quite by chance, and when she heard of my predicament, Miss Brentry offered to help with Windhurst Hall in exchange for…”
“In exchange for what?”
“What I’m about to tell is in the strictest of confidence, and you must promise not to reveal it.”
“Of course,” assured Edward.
“She offered to help in exchange for…marriage.”
There was silence.
Edward rested his elbows on the desk, placed his hands together to form a peak, and leaned forward. “I assume she has money.”
“I’m assured she comes with a substantial dowry,” Aaron replied.
Edward looked skeptical. “Do I know of her? Have I met her family?”
Aaron raised a brow and shrugged. “Miss Brentry is a merchant’s daughter and moves in different social circles to the ones we frequent. I doubt we have friends in common. Although there’s Lord Stratton…”
“Lord Randle Stratton?” Edward asked.
“Yes. It seems Stratton has already made an offer of marriage.”
“If Stratton’s interested, then she must come from good stock. He wouldn’t leg-shackle himself to just anyone.”
“Just because Stratton is willing to marry Miss Brentry, that doesn’t mean that I am.”
“What? Why not? Is there a problem? What’s your objection to her?”
“None. I have no objection to her personally. It’s just that…”
“Then it’s your pride standing in the way. You were always a stickler for right and wrong, but―”
“You cannot convince me that it’s right to take money from someone. A woman. Money that is not yours. Money you have not worked for.”
There was silence as the two men looked at one another, and then the penny dropped. Edward realized what the problem was. “Do not tell me, let me guess. You are still hankering after Charlotte Hunter. How can you? Not after the way she and her family treated you. Good God, man! I thought your infatuation with her was over when she married that American. Have you no sense? Do you not know how lucky you were to be rid of―”
“Enough.” Aaron ran a hand through his hair. “Preston was a better catch. He had a large plantation and…and she said she loved him.”
“Love be damned. Her parents saw the dollar signs and―”
“Not another word on the subject. It’s in the past, and I’ve moved on. Truly I have.”
“Then if that’s the case, I ask again… What’s stopping you from marrying this Miss Brentry?”
“Marriage is a big step, and one I had not thought to take at this time. I’m not fit to be a husband. Not in my present condition.” Aaron touched his scar. “And as for starting a family… Miss Brentry tells me this is the reason she is keen to marry. Her father is eager for an heir.”
“Then, if this is the case, and you have no real objection to the lady, I’d strongly urge you to consider her offer. If you wish to regain your lands and Windhurst Hall, marriage to Miss Brentry might be your solution.”
“And love? What of love between us?”
“That’s a question I cannot answer. Even those entering into a marriage believing affection already exists have no guarantees that a true and lasting love will flourish. You’ll have to take a chance like the rest of us.”
Aaron squared his shoulders. “Thank you for listening to my troubles, my friend. It has been an afternoon well spent. You laid out my options and made sense of this muddle. I have an appointment to keep…I have an invitation to a rout.”