London, England.
Present-day, May 1831.
THE BALLROOM at the duke of Hanton's town house was ablaze with lights of a thousand candles all placed prettily in a glistening chandelier and crystal brackets interspersed along the wall. At one corner of the room stood Emily Bertram with tears in the back of her eyes as she watched the last man she had pinned all her hopes on, take his newly betrothed, to the dance hall. It was official now. She was going to die an old maid, without even being kissed before.
The young woman was already three and twenty, and she was yet to find a husband, which meant she was practically on the shelf. One more year, and she would be firmly on the shelf.
Mayhap, she could be a great aunt to her brothers' children if they ever got around to marrying one, the young woman thought. But then her lips wobbled, and tears threatened to spill. She wanted to cry out in hysteria, she wanted to sob. She didn't want to be any great aunt, first, she wanted to have her children, and she wanted to be loved. Was that too much to ask?
The young woman clenched her eyes in pain and folded her lips into her mouth. She had always thought she was a strong woman, but here she was, about to break down in tears, in front of all these people. People she barely even knew. She needed a place where she could cry and console her aching soul. A place where she could lose herself in. That's it, the young woman opened her eyes, she needed to bury her nose in a book, she needed to lose her soul.
Turning from where she was standing near the refreshment table, Emily eyed the grand entrance. All great houses were supposed to have libraries, and if she was right, this one should have one too. Picking up a glass of lemonade from the refreshment table, Emily drank from it freeing her parched throat before hurriedly moving over to the grand entrance as discreetly as possible.
On reaching the door she assumed was the library, Emily pulled it open and was confronted with several shelves stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Flooded with books, blue, green, gold, and red spines lined up flawlessly for perusal. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling and several lamps placed at strategic positions. Casting the library in a semi glow.
At one corner stood a desk. A floor-length window behind it flocked by heavy drapes and hinting at the outside. A solitary single brass candlestick on the desk. Emily walked over to the first shelf with careful steps and felt the familiar comfort of a library wash over her. She took in a huge breath and ran her fingers over the rows of thick covers. Her glove clad hand settling on one, and she pulled it out and held it close to her chest. Then she turned and started towards the desk with weak steps trying not to think of her dilemma but it came pouring in any way.
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COLE FLETCHER watched from his position opposite the second shelf, as a young woman, stole into Sebastian's library where he was hiding. His first thought had been that she had come to steal something. But after a quick thorough glance over her, he came to the sudden conclusion she wasn't there to steal, for she didn't have the agility attributed to one in that line of occupation.
The earl of Tonfield hated being there. All the bloody reasons why he didn't like attending balls and functions like this, was made visible in the ballroom. Hell! He felt like he was on the market. It was no wonder he is hiding in the library. He rarely ventured into the society and he hated balls. If this one, hadn't been hosted by his dear friend, and his wife, he wouldn't have had cause to step foot inside.
But he had to do right by them. After all, he had played a major role in orchestrating the events that led to their marriage, sometime last year.
So he had come, even though he rather not, and paid his respects to his host, danced with one or two misses to fulfil all righteousness and then proceeded to the library where he divested himself of his neckcloth(The bloody thing was choking him to death) and then scored himself a glass of whiskey from his friend's drawer. That was where he was when the young woman stepped inside.
Cole eyed her again, she seems not to have seen him. She was a pretty thing, although her gown was quite unbecoming a far contrast from the white glove she was wearing. She was a tall woman Cole noticed, too tall for a woman.
Quietly, he watched her move to the first shelve, stub her foot and curse furiously. Cole smiled as he watched her, he was intrigued. He could tell with every fibre of his being she was a lady, even though, she looked, and dressed more like a governess, than a lady.
The Earl continued his scrutiny and watched the woman who was an enigma to him. At first, she walked with a weak step towards the desk, but then she stopped, squared her shoulders and continue in angry furious steps, the book she held in her right hand swinging up and down in the air. Cole leaned back and rubbed his jaw. She had spirit. Interesting.
The woman snapped the book open on the mahogany table her face almost disappearing in the thick volumes of it. It was then that Cole grinned and stood up from his chair, then sauntered his way lazily over to her. It was about time he made his presence known.
He raised a brow when he saw what she was reading. An account book? Rare, quite rare for a woman. Cole thought and grinned. Resting his body on the desk in a casual pose he looked at her amused. “I'm surprised, a woman like you would be interested in a book like this, he said and touched a finger to her book.
She paused in the act of turning the next page and jerked her head up at that. Emily hadn't been aware someone else had been in the room let alone standing in front of her now. Her eyes widened briefly before it narrowed into slits. “It wasn't what I had planned to read, it was the first thing I could lay my hands on at the time, and anything,” she paused “Anything was better than being in that dratted ball.”
Amusement caused the earl's lips to twitch to the side. She was angry, furious about something he noticed. Someone must have annoyed her greatly.
Without permission, he sat on the desk and surveyed the woman before him. He might not have been in society for long, but he knew she wasn't supposed to be here alone with him, it could ruin her, but still even after knowing that Cole remained. Something about the way she held herself intrigued him. And then that angry slant of her lips.
Her massive blond curls were wound up high on her hair in a beautiful coiffure, and her eyes were the same shades as emerald, set in a face that was so clear yet so smooth, that it was devoid of any face paint. In general, she had a pretty face and expressive eyes that could make a man come undone if she so much as fixed the intensity of her stare on you.
Unconsciously, without thinking Cole found himself leaning towards her. To take a closer look, he told himself but it was the eyes that intrigued him. He couldn't look away. He could only stare and imagine what she would look like with her blond curls down. Even with the knowledge of her orange unbecoming gown stuffed with a fichu to cover the low neckline. Cole could sense she was a pretty woman one who was in good possession of a pair of ethereal long legs. Her height all but bore testament to that.
THE STRANGER had lingered on by her side in silence for so long and was beginning to make Emily nervous. When she had staggered into the library with the sole intention of crying her eyes out. She hadn't expected to find someone inside, let alone a gentleman who looked at her as if she was a beautiful woman.Not that she didn't enjoy the prospect of being stared at by him or being considered pretty she relished every moment of it. Because It wasn't every day that men of the ton stared at her like that. She had always thought it had something to do with her face she was so certain it was her face. She hadn't the type of face men were enamoured by, or so one of them had told her at one time, the worst something about her height seems to put them all off, but as she watched the man in front of her stare at her as if she was a dashing woman, even with the knowledge of how tall she was.Against her better judgment, Emily's cheeks flushed ho
The blond man under Cole, during that momentary lapse in time, had regained his strength. He flipped Cole under him and pummel his face until what was left of it was a bloodied eye and a swollen, cut lip.“That's enough!” The brother with the long scar, named Julian, said from behind them. “Brother, I think you would agree with me that this isn't the time to show your physical prowess but the time to act fast before the ton discovers what is going on here. Goddamn it, our sister had just been ruined.”The blond man stepped off Cole, but it seems that not everyone agreed to what Julian, the eldest of them had said, for the man behind them, the one who had been cracking his bones grumbled. “At least he should be made to understand that a Bertram, is not to be trifled with.” when Julian said nothing, he grumbled again and ran his hand over his blond hair. “Bloody hell Julian, I think you are turning soft.”Julian craned his head back a
“Would someone care to tell me what the hell is going on in my library!” Sebastian, the Duke of Hanton, gritted out through clenched teeth.Sighing, Julian rubbed his brows. This was what he was afraid of. It was already enough that the four of them knew what was going on, and now the bloody Duke too? This was too much.From his peripheral vision he saw George step forward regardless of his necktie which has gone askew and his blond hair which seems to be everywhere, he seems not to notice for he walked with an arrogant step, he might as well be the King of England, for the way he walked, ruthless, and fierce as if he owned the bloody world.George stood in front of the duke and levelled him with an equivalent irritated expression. “Well, if you must know, the Earl has compromised my sister, both of them were found in a compromising position.”The Duke's eyes shifted to her and Emily winced. She cowered her head in
THE EARL OF TONFIELD pulled the curtain close as their carriage drew past the last house and skidded out of town, heading to the place where the duel was supposed to take place.One might think his demeanour had improved considerably since last night, but judging by the ferocious scowl which seems to have planted itself firmly on his face, one would have to think otherwise.It had been decided it was for the best if the duel should take place as early as possible before most of the ton got wind of where, and when the duel was to take place. Hence, the reason they were heading out of town at such an ungodly hour.The cold morning air penetrated through the confines of the carriage even though the curtains had been properly closed, and their path were marked by various stops and rutted potholes blighted by the moon which had already begun its descent back to the sky.On a day like this, when faced with an impending, t
COLE SPARED a brief glance along the long field at the brothers, and noticed they were swiftly making arrangements, he noticed the one they called Lucas briefly aimed to his right before he thrust the pistol into Vincent's waiting hands, who quickly turned away and tended to the pistol with his head bent and his hands working intricately as he wiped over the pistol. Lucas patiently waiting by his side.The other two were lunged a few feet behind the others talking about something, and as he watched one of them stopped, and turned his way and then slowly start towards him. Cole turned away and let his eyes drift from the man and onto Sebastian who had just descended from the carriage cradling in the crook of his arm the box that housed his pistol.Turning back again, Cole noticed the brother who had headed his way had reached him. It was Julian, the eldest, staring down at him from eyes set in that crooked face of his.He bobbed on h
Durham, England1831.COLE FLETCHER calmly took Emily's right hand in his own and halfheartedly listened to the vicar. Through cold frigid eyes, he assessed her, standing there before him in a fine white muslin gown and over it was a soft silk shawl, draped over her shoulders, and a small-cap to match, trimmed with lace.At that moment she looked so innocent he had thought mayhap she hadn't schemed to trap him. But then she lifted her face and Cole stared into those knowledgeable emerald green eyes and concluded Emily Bertram wasn't sad, which could only mean one thing. She was in agreement with the marriage. For if she was not, she could have at least fought back, showed some resistance, but now she calmly stood there before him in her white muslin gown and her blond tresses beautifully piled on top of her head.Swallowing bitterly, he stared at her through narrowed eyes, his li
Few minutes later the carriage door opened, and his wife stepped in from the other side. It was customary to have a meal after a ceremony like this, but Cole would have none of it. He wanted to leave, and he wanted to leave now!As soon as she had bundled herself unto the carriage seats, he roughly knocked on the roof, signalling the driver to get going, breaking off her small talk with her brothers.“Bloody hell Tonfield!” Lucas yelled as the carriage tipped forward, bringing Emily who was unaware of the sudden movement crashing back to the carriage seat.She gasped and threw a horrified look at him, but Cole ignored her and looked out the window. As they gradually left the remnants of the manor behind, he could still hear the insistent voices of the Bertram brothers profusely cursing him. He smiled a sardonic smile and twitched the curtains closed. Then turned in his seats and faced his conniving wife.“Pray tell
It was another thirty minutes before the carriage rolled to a stop. By then, Cole had successfully kept his emotions at bay and was now staring down at Emily with cold, emotionless eyes.He considered waking her but was saved from doing so when she pried her eyes open and looked at him through sleepy eyes. Emily noticed her hair had fallen from its coiffure and gasped, then she hurriedly started to wand it back upon her head, securing it with her a great many pins.It was a beautiful sight. Cole watched her and frowned. He wanted to reach out and snatch her hand out and let the hair fall once again. Instead, he opened his mouth and spoke dispassionately, “'Tis good to know you have finally woken up.”“Oh,” she said. Tilting her head slightly but continued with what she was doing. “Have you been waiting long? You could have woken me,” she supplied.Ignoring her, he