Chapter Thirty-Nine
Emma walked into her husband’s study to find an unfamiliar man lounging comfortably in one of the high-backed chairs in the center of the room.
“Mr. Pritchard, I presume.”
He started and jumped to his feet. His balance faltered, but he regained it. He grinned. “A pleasure, Your Grace.”
Her smile was tight. It was most certainly not a pleasure. She studied him, finally able to satisfy her curiosity of the man. He was young. Tall. He was also dirty and most decidedly drunk. Hopefully not so much that he was incapable of being persuaded.
“From the looks of it, I’d say I’ve come at an inconvenient time,” he said, though his smirk implied he was rather pleased with the timing.
“As you are well aware, we have guests arriving, Mr. Pritchard. Perhaps you should address your purpose quickly, so that I may see to them.”
He placed his hand dramatically upon his heart. “I’ve already spoken my purpose to your husband, Your Grace. I’m told he’s not available, but I’m content to wait here until he returns.”
“I’m well aware of your prior discussion with my husband and see no reason to delay. He has already communicated to you that Charlotte has no interest in your proposal and kindly declines.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Your Grace, as I am afraid for Charlotte’s reputation. With all these guests arriving, it would be an awful time for a rumor to take hold. Some rumors may be very difficult to disprove.”
Intoxicated or not, Mr. Pritchard was proving sharper of wit than she had first assessed. Still, she was unconcerned about his rumor. She was only concerned about his presence.
“Nevertheless, Mr. Pritchard, Charlotte has decided to decline your kind offer and we must ask that you accept her decision as final.”
His eyes hardened. “I don’t think that’s a very wise decision.”
Emma had not really expected him to be reasonable. She stepped forward and smiled sweetly. “We are both people who simply seek an opportunity, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Pritchard? I’ve known Charlotte only a short while, but I find I feel rather protective of her and would not take kindly to the spreading of damaging rumors. You, on the other hand, have traveled a long way. You have another long and costly voyage to return home. Perhaps what we have now is an opportunity, Mr. Pritchard, for each of us to have what we want.”
Emma untied a small bag of gold pieces from her waist and held it in her hand, testing the weight so Mr. Pritchard could see. “How do you suppose we find a compromise?”
He eyed the bag and grinned.
The door to the study flung open.
“What in blasted hell is going on in here?”
Ah, the cavalry. Her husband, dressed in his evening finery, stalked into the room, followed closely by Mr. Brydges and Lord Ridgely.
Mr. Pritchard’s grin faltered. His eyes darted to the pouch of coins and back to the three men who glared menacingly at him.
Emma ignored the shift in her pulse that her husband’s entrance caused. She was certain she still had Mr. Pritchard’s attention with her previous offer.
“There is no cause for alarm,” she announced loudly to the latecomers, her eyes still narrowed at the American. “Mr. Pritchard and I were having a discussion, but I believe we see eye to eye, do we not, Mr. Pritchard?” She juggled the coins in her hand.
He stared at it and nodded slowly. “I believe we do.”
She turned to the men and smiled sweetly. “So you see, everything is taken care of. Mr. Pritchard was just taking his leave.” She held the pouch out as she spoke and he snatched it quickly.
John stepped toward him. “If he intends to take his leave, we shall make certain of it.”
Emma walked to him, steeling herself against the feelings his proximity elicited. “As our guests are arriving, perhaps Mr. Brydges should see him out.”
Mr. Brydges stepped forward. “That I would be happy to do,” he said with decided unhappiness.
John reached out to halt his friend. “My two men are probably still in the mews. Have them take Pritchard to the harbor and detain him until morning.”
John turned at the outcry from Mr. Pritchard. “Consider yourself fortunate, Pritchard. You have been given a gift. Take it. Take those coins and return to Boston on the first available ship. If you have further contact with my family, or come anywhere near us again, we will not be so kind.”
John faced the door and held his arm for Emma to take. She stepped forward and, with one final glare for the American, left the room on her husband’s arm.