Page 9 of To Heal a Broken Earl
Emma needed to find some sort of living arrangement for her and Katie. She had spent her formative years among the household staff, learning a great deal from kindly cooks and housekeepers, butlers and maids, and even stable masters and grooms. She’d confided as much to Lady Beadle, who had completely understood.
“I admire your independent spirit, my dear,” Lady Beadle said with a wink. “And I may have a suggestion that could resolve this entire situation. Lord Wilton has recently inherited his earldom and discovered that all his estates have been sadly neglected for years—all except his London townhouse. He islooking for a housekeeper for his country estate in Sussex. It’s a small manor house and needs some renovations, but it is not in as poor condition as his main estate in Preston or his third estate in Lancashire. Most importantly, he prefers Sussex and intends to renovate it to make it his home. I believe this could be a perfect place for you and little Katie. You would not only be safe, but you would also be assisting Lord Wilton. It is an ideal solution!”
“I would be delighted to work as a housekeeper, Lady Beadle,” Emma said.
“The position with Lord Wilton—Michael—would be for a short time,” Celia said, turning to her husband. “Just until we get everything sorted, isn’t that right, dear?”
“Yes, of course,” Armstrong replied. “I think the idea has merit. We’ll get word to Martin and Evie to remain where they are and suggest they hire more men to guard his family’s estate as a precautionary measure.”
Emma felt a wave of relief. Armstrong would be able to get word to Martin swiftly, and she would be able to keep Katie safe without feeling like a burden.
“While you and Katie are safely ensconced at Wilton’s estate, we’ll be searching for this vile brute,” Armstrong continued. “I am almost positive the arsonist who set fire to your home is the same one connected with similar fires around London for the past several months. We need to find this devil and bring him to justice.”
“Michael recently arrived in London on business,” Lady Beadle said. “I’m certain he is still here.”
“Indeed, Michael’s eager to escape the hustle and bustle of London,” Armstrong added. “When I saw him earlier in the week, he said he planned to return to his estate but gave no exact date.”
A knock sounded at the door, and then Jenkins entered the room, holding his nose.
“Why are you holding your nose, Jenkins?” Lady Beadle asked.
“You’ll find out,” Jenkins murmured before announcing, “Lord Wilton has arrived.”
A moment later, Michael entered the room. “Stanhope, my butler, said there was a fire, my lady,” he said, scanning the room with a look of confusion.
“Well done, Jenkins. I declare you are a mind reader, for you have once again anticipated our needs,” Lady Beadle said with a grin. “Now then, Lord Wilton—Michael, thank you for coming.”
“Of course, Lady Beadle, I am at your service.”
Lady Beadle gave a firm nod. “Yes, there was a fire. My solicitor’s home was burned down, apparently by an arsonist. His sister-in-law, Lady Emma Grantham, and her niece fled here for safety. We must help them.” She wrinkled her nose. “Good Lord! My ears are working with this ear horn, but my eyes are watering, and my nose… What is thatsmell?”
Michael sighed and leaned on his cane. “I apologize. It’s a salve that Hastings insisted I use on my leg. I had hoped I could do it without notice…but I received your missive and came immediately.”
Lady Beadle waved away the apology. “Never you mind. I’ve smelled far worse. Besides, the pungent scent does nothing to detract from your charm, my dear. You’re still the most handsome man in London.”
Emma, who was sitting next to Celia, was unable to get a good glimpse of Lord Wilton because Armstrong had stood to greet him.
But the earl’s rich, deep baritone made her heart skip a beat—although she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why.
“Come, come,” Lady Beadle said a few minutes later, thumping her cane on the carpet as the two men spoke in hushed tones. “You can discuss the investigation after we make the introductions.”
Emma could still not catch a decent glimpse of Lord Wilton, but then Armstrong stepped aside, fully revealing the earl. Her breath caught in her throat at the man standing before her.
“Lord Michael Wilton, allow me to introduce you to Lady Emma Grantham,” Lady Beadle said with a smile as though she were presiding over the opening ball of the London Season.
He was the most handsome man Emma had ever seen. His blond hair curled about his head like Apollo, the god of the sun in Greek mythology. His striking green eyes reminded her of the color of the sea, clear, deep, and endless. It was as if he had stepped right out of a painting. She blinked, wondering if she was dreaming.
The blond Adonis appeared befuddled as he regarded Emma, and she worried that he might not be amenable to the idea of her and Katie staying at his estate. But then he smiled—and bent over her hand.
Lord, what a smile.
“Lady Grantham, it is a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to offer my home to you and your niece for as long as you need it,” he said in that rich baritone that almost made her swoon.
“Thank you, my lord, for offering to help us,” Emma said, realizing that Armstrong must have quickly explained the situation during their quiet exchange. “But I will accept no charity. I must insist on working for our keep.”
~*~
Chapter Four
