Page 128 of A Foolish Flirtation

“Mercy!” shrieked Humphrey.

“Jeremy!” Emmie cried, finally finding her voice. “Please stop!” When her words fell on apparently deaf ears, she turned to William Nye, who was watching proceedings with interest. “Oh, can’t you stop him?” she appealed.

“Seems a shame to do that,” Nye answered.

Finding her feet, Emmie rounded the table and tugged at Jeremy’s shoulder. “Please stop, my lord,” she sobbed. “For my sake.”

With some reluctance, Jeremy released Humphrey’s shirt and let the poor wretch drop back to the ground. Stepping over him, he turned to face the fireplace, gripping the mantelpiece and catching his breath.

“Give him a moment,” Nye advised when Emmie took a step toward him. “His blood’s still up.” He walked over to Humphrey and, catching hold of his jacket, dragged him over to a chair in the corner and deposited him there, where he sat slumped, pale and shaken. “I’ll fetch some brandy,” Nye said and left the room.

Emmie approached Jeremy cautiously. For the first time, she noticed he still wore his riding garb. He must have come straight here after reading her letter. Maybe it had been a mistake to leave that for him. Throwing caution to the wind, she threw her arms around his waist. “Don’t be angry with me,” she begged. “I thought—”

A footfall sounded in the doorway, and Emmie took a step back as another maid, older than the first, swept into the room with a bowl of water and some cloths. This one had a pinched, disapproving face as her eyes travelled over the room. “Thought it was fight night next week!” she exclaimed with disfavor, crossing the room to administer to Humphrey. “What a mess! Bleeding all over my nice clean floor!”

Humphrey gave a muffled sound of pain as she tended to his face, and Jeremy turned from the fireplace at last. “My apologies, Edna,” he said. “It won’t happen again.” Reaching into his jacket, he extracted his wallet and set a couple of notes on the table. “For recompense,” he said. “Add it to your Crown Derby tea fund.”

Edna looked somewhat mollified by this. “Handsome of you, milord,” she acknowledged and left Humphrey’s side to tuck the money into her apron. “I’ll just go and fetch my mop. Not much more I can do for ’im. His nose is broke.”

Humphrey gave another anguished moan and Nye stepped into the room with a bottle of brandy and three glasses. “Broken, is it?” he asked with a gleam of approval. “Thought it might be.”

Emmie turned anxious eyes on Jeremy, but he still would not meet her gaze. Nye sloshed brandy into the glasses and handed one to her and Jeremy and then one to Humphrey, who tried to refuse it, but had it pressed into his hand anyway.

“Well, Stockton,” Jeremy said, setting down his own glass untouched. “I think we had better reach some resolution here. I’ll make it plain, if you ever show your face in this part of the country again, I’ll see you prosecuted.”

Emmie, who had been taking a cautious sip of brandy, lowered her glass. “And I will have charges brought for attempted marriage fraud and breach of contract!” she added with spirit.

“Me prosecuted?” Humphrey squawked. “Lord Faris here has just committed an offence against my person! In front of two witnesses no less!”

“I think you’ll find that neither one of them will testify on your behalf,” Jeremy said mildly, “though I do see your point. Very well, I will amend my position. If you show up again hereabouts, I’ll see to it that you never bother my wife or anyone else ever again. It would not be too difficult for me to arrange,” he added thoughtfully. “As is often the case in provincial places such as these, the word of the local liege lord is considered tantamount to law.”

Humphrey’s jaw dropped. “I—you—” he spluttered in nasal tones. “You are threatening me! This is outrageous!”

“No,” Jeremy said patiently. “What is outrageous is you contacting another man’s wife and writing her a damnably impertinent letter.”

Humphrey shot a resentful look at Emmie. “That was not meant for your eyes, my lord!”

“I can well believe it,” Jeremy responded dryly.

“I—I had some very real concerns that induced me to write that letter,” Humphrey insisted, clasping the bloodied cloth to his nose. “I assure you, my motivation was pure!”

“Then let us deal with your concerns, once and for all,” Jeremy said, producing the letter and unfolding it. His eyes scanned the first few lines contemptuously. “I am not a peer of the realm, by the way, as I have never been appointed to the House of Lords.”

Humphrey sniffed, though whether that was due to his nosebleed or any other emotion, Emmie could not say. Jeremy returned to the letter, quoting aloud, “‘I need hardly say how truly astounded I was to learn you had married so precipitately, without taking counsel from your friends.’” He lowered the letter. “And which friends do you refer?” he asked pointedly.

“I assure you that Hannah Pinson has been with us every step of the way, and I do not consider anyone else to be in any way relevant. As for you,” he said jeeringly. “You stood no friend to Emmeline. In fact, you willfully deceived her for years purely to line your own pockets at her expense.”

While Humphrey reeled from this charge, Jeremy resumed browsing the rest of the letter. “Your dear helpmeet no doubt encouraged this meeting in the hope you could induce my wife to part with even more money to furnish the comfort of your family,” he concluded damningly. “It must be hard for you pair of leeches indeed, now that you do not have her to bleed dry.”

Humphrey flailed out an arm in feeble protest, but words seemed beyond him at this point.

“Nothing more to say?” Jeremy asked. “In that case, we will take our leave of you.” He held out his hand to Emmie, who took it at once. “Say goodbye to Mr. Stockton, Emmeline. You won’t be seeing him again.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Stockton,” Emmeline said, her eyes still on Jeremy. She could not fail to notice that her husband had not looked at her directly since entering the room.

31

They took a hurried leave of Nye, who, to Jeremy’s evident surprise, rounded the bar to shake his hand and clap him on the back. “Not bad, Faris,” he said, looking him up and down. “Not bad at all. I have hopes of you yet. I’m glad to see you put an end to all that mannerly bollocks. Truth is, Mina steered you astray a bit there.” He winced. “It’s true we take walks on the beach and plan our future together and such, but before we got to that point, we had to have it out. Truth be told, I didn’t take my blinkers off before she gave me the shock of my life and screamed in my face that she hated my guts.”