Page 57 of Choosing Her Earl at Last
The earnestness in Colin’s eyes told Emmeline that at least he was able to understand, to some small degree, her determination to see her sister to safety no matter the cost.
“We are not going to speak with the magistrate,” she firmly replied. “I will not be responsible for my own sister’s demise. I will go and speak with Mr. G. Nothing or no one will change my mind.”
“I have already refused Mr. G’s request,” Michael informed her flatly. His demeanor was just as entrenched as Emmeline’s.
Emmeline’s anger had risen to such a level that she actually felt violent. Storming over to the fireplace, she picked up the fire poker from its holder and stomped over to Michael with it, brandishing it in his face.
He did not even flinch, which angered her even more. “Neither you nor any other man will stop me! I will not be controlled by anyone, least of all someone who has absolutely no legal authority over me! Anyone who comes between me and saving my sister will suffer the consequences!” She jabbed the fire poker into the floor between his feet for emphasis.
Colin’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You Frampton women are extraordinary,” he breathed in awe. “In all of my days, I have never seen a lady behave thusly.”
Emmeline shot him a warning look.
Colin raised his hands in surrender. “I meant it in the most complimentary fashion,” he reassured her. “I support your decision.”
Emmeline nodded firmly in reply, then turned her attention back to Michael. “If my sister is killed because of your actions…” Before Emmeline could finish the threat, another knock sounded on the exterior door.
Mr. Hardy left the room to answer it. He returned swiftly; his face wreathed in concern. “My lady, a letter has come for you.” He handed her the folded paper and watched as the color drained from her face.
There in her hands was her name clearly written in her husband’s bold, careful script.
“No,” she whispered, taking a step back. She tore at the wax seal and opened the letter, holding her breath as she poured over the words. “Rebecca,” she sobbed out as she collapsed into her chair.
“Is it as we feared, my lady?” Mr. Hardy asked, coming around to pour her a restorative cup of tea from the available tray that a maid had brought during their earlier research. He handed her the cup, urging her to drink it.
“It is,” she choked out, her vision blurring with tears. She handed him back the letter so that he could read it for himself. “Rebecca’s abductors desire a ransom of money and my father’s collection of paintings. I am to deliver these items alone.” A cold chill passed along her spine as she said the words aloud.
“It is a trap,” Michael informed her. “He did not even wait long enough for us to deliver the message before sending one of his own.”
“You told him that you would not deliver the message,” Colin reminded him.
“But you agreed,” Michael reminded him.
“Perhaps he did not wish to take the chance that either of you would do as asked,” Emmeline retorted, bitterness with a touch of venom in her voice.
“Do not be foolish,” Michael implored her. “Surely you can see that this is a trap to lure you in so that he can take you as well.”
“That is the second time this day that you have referred to me as a fool. I do not recommend doing it a third time.” Her eyes held his with a fiery intensity.
“I will allow it. I will lock you in a closet if I must, but you are not going to meet this Mr. G alone. You are not going to meet with him at all!” Michael was filled with such a fear for her life that he had arisen and was gripping the mantel of the fireplace.
“The fire poker was a warning,” Emmeline reminded him. “Do not deceive yourself into believing that I will not use it should you get in my way.”
“Fighting amongst ourselves does not benefit Rebecca in any way,” Colin reminded them, as Mr. Hardy removed the fire poker from the floor and stood to the side of his mistress, poker in hand as if he were standing at parade rest. “Michael, Emmeline is right. You do not have the right to tell her what she can and cannot do. She is not your family, and she outranks you.”
Michael whirled around, nearly coming to blows with his own cousin. His anger had gone beyond words. “It is time to stand down, my lord,” Mr. Hardy spoke softly but firmly, an edge of warning in his voice should Michael choose to obstruct Emmeline in any way.
His eyes, stance, and tone told the entire room that he would take Michael down and gladly suffer the consequences of being arrested and possibly hanged for it at the word of his mistress.
All of the fight left Michael’s form, and he crumpled back into his chair. If even Mr. Hardy was advocating for Emmeline to go to the meeting, there was nothing that Michael would be able to do to stop it.
Emmeline’s anger also eased as compassion filled her heart. She knew that his anger was out of concern and not a need for control, as her husband had, but that did not sway her from her course.
“I know that it is a trap, Michael. I am not the fool that you seem to think that I am. Knowing that it is a trap does not change the fact that Rebecca’s life depends upon my going. I will not stand by and allow my sister to be killed.”
“I refuse to lose either of my daughters,” Theodocia Frampton’s voice sounded from the drawing room threshold.
“Mother,” Emmeline squeaked with surprise. “We did not see you enter. My apologies.”
