Free Lady Em's Indiscretion by Elena Greene

 
     
    Chapter
One
     
    “How can you even think of sharing a
marriage-bed with Lamford ?”
    Lady Emmeline Sandhurst could only stare at
her friend Georgiana as they strolled across the lawn toward the
lake. How shockingly outspoken Georgie had become since her
marriage! Perhaps it was a mistake, breaking her journey here at
Westhaven Park. Certainly it was a mistake to have accepted
Georgie’s invitation for a ramble about the grounds after
dinner—but how could she have avoided it?
    “As well lie down with a dead cod-fish!”
Georgie continued.
    Em stifled a giggle, but an anxious knot
formed in her stomach. One ought not to laugh at the man one
planned to marry. “I see no need to think about such things before
it is time,” she said in a quelling tone.
    “You had better think about it, before you
marry him.”
    She willed herself to ignore the tightening
knot. “Hush! I will not have you making game of him. He is a very
respectable man.”
    “A man who needs his mother’s permission to
pay his addresses to you! You should send them your regrets.”
    “Not after I’ve accepted her invitation to
Lamford Castle. That would be rude.”
    “Better to be rude than shackle yourself to
such a man. Tell me. Do you feel for him what you felt for
Denby?”
    Surprise caused Em to stumble. No one spoke
to her about Mark Allendale, Viscount Denby, anymore. Least of all
Georgie, who knew how many nights Em had cried herself to sleep
after breaking off their engagement two years ago.
    “Why do you speak of Denby?” she asked
uneasily, as they descended the steps leading down to the lawn.
    Georgie gave her a searching look. “You were
so much in love. You cannot pretend you feel the same way about
Lamford!”
    Em paused for a moment to take in the
Westhavens’ justly famous grounds: the shimmering sweep of the
ornamental lake, the surrounding lawns and stands of trees in
luxuriant summer foliage. A warm breeze ruffled the surface of the
lake. It came to meet her, fluttering her bonnet strings and the
folds of her sprigged cotton gown.
    But no clever replies came to her, only a
sudden sharp sense of melancholy.
    “Lamford is a good man,” she said at length.
“It is an eligible match. He is an earl. I am an earl’s daughter.
He owns a handsome estate in Somerset, and—”
    “When did such considerations ever matter to
you? You are heiress to a large enough fortune that you may marry
as you please!”
    “I please to marry Lord Lamford.”
    “Who finds you passable and thinks your
wealth a useful addition to the Lamford fortunes.”
    “Well, I am merely passable,” Em
replied. She was short, her figure was unremarkable and her hair an
undistinguished soft brown. “And making an equal match with regard
to fortune is no bad thing. With Lamford I shall have all I desire:
a home of my own and children.”
    “But surely you wish for more than that from
your husband!”
    It was easy for Georgie to say that, with an
adoring husband and beautiful child. But such fairy tale endings
were not for everyone.
    Em sought more to say to Lamford’s credit.
“He does not care about the scandal I caused two years ago. He even
says he is willing to overlook any . . . indiscretions I might have
committed with Denby.”
    Indiscretions . . .
    What a word for how they had taken advantage
of the license allowed engaged couples!
    What a word for the wild kisses in his
curricle, how Mark had pulled her close, the way he’d taught her
that shocking play of tongues. How he’d stroked her breast, causing
her to blush and tremble at his touch.
    What a word for the time they’d strolled
under the willow by the stream and he’d pulled her against it and
kissed her, screened from view only by the drooping branches of the
tree. How he’d pressed her up against the trunk, teased her breasts
free of her bodice, how he’d kissed them, then fallen to his knees
and lifted her skirts and kissed her there . . .
    What a word for the time they’d