Colors of a Lady (9 page)

Lady Wren pulled out her chair and sat down
into it. She pulled out a sheet of paper and her fountain pen and
began to write a reply. She was more than happy to assist in this
plan. But it would do well to her reputation to remain haughty.

Upon finishing the note, Caroline decided to
retire to bed. The farthest thought from her mind was the troubling
letter. It really could not be so bad.

“What do you mean Aunt Lucille is missing?
How would you know that? She has not yet left the Continent.”

It was Wednesday evening in the Sheridan
household. Emma was in the middle of dressing for the evening. Mary
was putting the finishing touches on her ensemble, a fetching mauve
gown constructed out of thin Indian silk. Emma had been peering
closely at her reflection in the mirror when her father rushed into
her room. Normally a calm man, it unnerved his daughter to find
Lord Sheridan in such a panicked state.

“Lucille...is missing!” He announced,
throwing down a missive. It was then that Emma halted Mary’s nimble
fingers. She turned to her father to inquire further.

“It seems...that...” He stopped to catch his
breath. Sprinting was not something in which he often engaged. He
was a titled gentleman after all. He had done his duty; he did not
need to run anymore.

“Come, Papa, sit down,” Emma implored,
rising to her feet. She guided her father to a low settee. He
thanked her and sunk into it, overcome with despair.

Emma turned to pick up the letter, quickly
skimming over it. “She has been in London for nearly a fortnight?
Why did she not tell us? She disappeared from her townhouse?”

“She arrived early and ran into Lord
Hartwell almost immediately. He convinced her to help with a
surprise so she did not announce her arrival. That letter is from
Lord Hartwell. He has been meeting with the police all day and will
arrive here shortly. Perhaps we must skip the theatre tonight. Lady
Sheridan thinks it will cause rumours, but the news will surely be
spread around by then.”

“Thomas was planning a surprise for me? I
wonder if it had anything to do with the British Museum. Oh bother,
listen to me, how silly I sound,” Emma chastised herself. These
lovelorn concerns were unimportant

“Not silly, just a girl in love. It is
natural for your thoughts to be so inclined. From what Caroline
told me, she was also involved and it did have to do with the
British Museum. I am sure once we find Lucille, he will begin the
preparations in earnest.”

“Lord Hartwell has arrived, my lord, shall I
direct him to the library?” Lewis inquired, appearing silently at
the door.

“Oh yes, do come along with me, Emma. You
have a right to hear this. I have a mind of what this disappearance
is in regards. Lucille will do anything to save the name of the
family, but it is not her burden to bear. Nor is it her sin. It is
my brother’s.”

“I did not know you had a brother,
Papa.”

He recoiled, closing his eyes against the
mention of his brother. “It will all be explained dreadfully soon.
The truth has been buried far too long.”

Thomas, elegantly attired for a night at the
theatre, had spent a tiring evening dealing with the police. He had
dispatched a note to Lord Sheridan as soon as he had discovered
Lady Wren to be gone. There were not many leads to go on. It was as
if she disappeared off of the earth. The questioning of the staff
did not lead to any helpful news. They were all either ignorant or
were tight-lipped.

The fatigue was dripping off his body by the
time he arrived at the Sheridan's townhouse. He was told to await
the family in Lord Sheridan's library. Lord Hartwell remained on
his feet, perusing the bookshelves. It was more of a way to free
his mind then to actually ascertain the earl's collection.

There was a swish of skirts that signaled
some woman of the house was shortly to enter the room and his
silent study would be interrupted.

“Thomas,” the soft voice called out to him.
There she was, Emma, standing uncertainly in the doorway.

“You look gorgeous tonight, my dear Emma.” A
smile cracked on her face, melting away the worry in her eyes. This
simple gesture also did wonders for his mood. “I had hoped to greet
you in much happier circumstances this evening.”

“As did I.” Emma hung her head, her curls
drooping. “Have you any idea to where my aunt as gone or been
taken? It is not like her to simply disappear in the middle of the
day.”

“I am not sure what happened either. The
police had not learned much.”

Emma hung her head. Shortly, her mother and
father strode into the room with Caroline following behind. After
greetings were exchanged, they settled into chairs surrounding a
small table. Lord Sheridan rang for Lewis, who had not drifted far
from the room.

“Please bring us all some port.”

“Why, Lord Sheridan, that is hardly proper
for us ladies!” Lady Sheridan protested, at once grasping for
smelling salts. Caroline shot Emma an amused look, her eyes
sparkling with mirth in the steady firelight.

“My dear, we are all family here. Lord
Hartwell will not go gallivanting around London shouting out our
transgressions.”

Lady Sheridan leaned towards her husband.
Her voice dropped to a volume that her daughters did not expect her
to reach. Her words were barely audible to Emma, but Caroline was
seated closer. Her eyebrows shot up, almost in danger of flying off
of her forehead.

Her mother had whispered, “But are we sure
that Lord Hartwell will not break the engagement once you tell him
about Emma?”

Was there some sordid secret that even Emma
did not know about herself?

Caroline bit her lip nervously, glancing
towards her sister. The brunette appeared suitably distressed at
the twists this evening offered. She had little inkling this had
anything at all to do with her. Caroline’s mind drifted to that
note tucked away in her desk upstairs.

“To tell the story of my
late brother means I am also telling the story of your father,
Emma,” Lord Sheridan began. His wife, though she was privy to this
tale, gasped aloud. It felt far too soon to reveal this to their
daughters. They had not discussed these events in many years. The
implications of the revelation could threaten the family’s place in
society.

“You, papa...you...you’re not my birth
father?” inquired Emma. Her world felt strange all of a sudden as
if she was no longer Lady Emma Wren. Who was she then? Why was she
here?

Thomas had some inclinations that she was
perhaps not fully English. She was darker than any of her family
members. Hers was a shade that could not easily be explained with
tales of Spanish blood. He spent many evenings examining the top of
her head; the image of her tightly curled hair often helped him
sleep. He had seen this sort of hair texture before and it was not
shown in Lady Sheridan’s or Caroline’s flaxen waves. Emma had never
thought much on her appearance, having attributed her olive skin to
be nothing more than a misfortune of birth.

“My brother, Joseph, as most second sons are
wont to do, entered into the military. He, naturally, traveled to
many distant lands and has met many different people. He would keep
us informed with concise but meaningful letters. First, he went to
India and sent us back some goods. They were all fakes however. He
did not have the heart to take the true artifacts. His travels took
him next to Cairo and from there they headed deep into the depths
of the continent.

Somewhere along the way, I cannot recall the
exact area, he fell in love with an African woman. We know little
of her life. But a missionary married them. He was planning on
bringing her back to London with him. It is not unheard of for a
wealthy man to install a foreign woman as a mistress. It is quite
rare to marry her. They had to delay their journey because she was,
excuse me...with child. So, they were to make the journey when she
was safely delivered of child.

Unfortunately, there were complications and
she passed away shortly after giving birth to you, Emma. Your
father was suitably distraught but saw fit to at least bring you
with him back to England. Initially, her family refused him. They
blamed him for the death of their daughter. His own soldiers found
the business disgusting and thought it best to leave savages with
their own kind.

Joseph refused to listen to either. He
bundled you up and hired a wet nurse. He brought you to us
immediately at our country manor. We were in the country for Lady
Sheridan’s confinement. She delivered the babe early and
unfortunately we lost him. It was divine providence that brought
such a beautiful baby girl into our lives.

He implored us to care for you while he was
away and that we did. Joseph had some loose ends to tie up in the
Army. You were settling nicely in our home as our second daughter.
My brother visited as often as was allowed and as not to raise
suspicion.” The earl stopped, taking in a deep breath. He reached
out to grab his wife’s hand.

Caroline was dumbfounded. Her quick mind
realized this was the secret that was alluded to in that note. It
was a distressing secret, no doubt, and enough to make most of the
men in the ton run away. Many did not want to blacken their
legitimate family line. Indeed it was shocking, but did little to
explain Lucille’s disappearance.

“When you were two, we received word that
Joseph was dead. The police ruled it an accident. We were never
provided with any details. Shortly thereafter, Lucille left in the
middle of the night. We publicly attributed it to the dealings with
that rake. No one knows about the note she left blaming herself for
Joseph’s demise. We kept that a secret. I had not given the matter
any thought until I began receiving odd notes shortly after your
engagement was announced.”

“I received a note from a stranger
yesterday. Whoever it was hinted at some grand destructive secret,”
Caroline informed them, crossing her arms.

“I actually have also received a note or two
shortly after I contacted Lady Wren. They referred to her as a
murderess,” added Thomas. He had not thought much of them, finding
them to be mere tricks from a bored debutante.

“I did not get a letter, but someone at a
recent ball did bump into me to ask where I buried my son.” Lady
Sheridan revealed this quietly. The memories of her babe were still
fresh in her mind. To this day, she mourned that babe and often
struggled with the pain. She blamed her body for killing him.

All eyes turned on Emma, expecting her to
reveal a similar tale. She simply shrugged her shoulders and shook
her head. “I seem to have been left out.”

The earl sipped from his port. He
contemplated these events carefully. This person knew far too much
about the inner-workings of the family events. It would be
difficult to get the police involved without revealing the extent
of the scandal. Without a doubt, the newspapers would run wild with
this tale. A playwright could have the biggest hit of the season
with a family tragedy of love and murder. At all costs, Emma would
need to be protected. Many members of the ton would not react
kindly to the news of her African mother. Lord Sheridan wished he
could remember her name. Surely somewhere in an old letter there
would be her name.

His tired gazed settled on Lord Hartwell.
What did he think of this all? Kellaway knew well of Emma's
heritage. The earl wondered if he had ever told his son. Thomas'
attention, however, was directed to Emma. There was a naked concern
in his eyes that resounded deep in the earl. There was a lot of
emotion in the meaningful look. Feelings that would boil over if
not properly attended.

Emma had downed her entire glass of port
with a flick of her wrist. Her dark eyes were focused on the empty
glass, entranced by the stray drops of ruby liquid.

“We shall understand, Hartwell, if you
desire to break the engagement,” Lord Sheridan said. It may be
wrong to test the lad in such a way. “Kellaway has been aware of
these truths since Emma was a babe. He still, as you know, very
much wished to see you both married. Since she was a child, she has
enchanted your father. He too has said you are allowed to end this.
We would not take any offense.”

The Marquess shook his head firmly at
Sheridan's words. There was little that could now convince him to
not take Emma as his bride. Many of his peers viewed Africans as
inferiors prone to savagery and depending upon the goodwill of
Englishmen to save them from an eternal hell. But Thomas found that
Africans were no different from Europeans. Some were good and some
were bad.

“That is not at all necessary, my lord. Emma
is my fiancée and shall soon be my wife. I am more concerned with
another matter. Might I speak with you privately?”

The countess did not wait to be directly
dismissed. Caroline too rose to her feet, ready to discreetly
excuse herself. Emma had not yet moved. Thomas gently shook his
fiancée. She blinked and her soul returned to her body. She looked
up at him.

“Can you join your mother and sister for a
few minutes? I have something that I need to discuss with your
father.”

She leaped up, placing her glass on a small
table. The women departed with polite curtsies.

“What is your concern, Hartwell?” Lord
Sheridan asked.

“Do you think it would be prudent to get
married sooner than planned? We already have the special
license.”

Lord Sheridan sat back against his chair.
This was going just as he had hoped. Constance was worried for no
reason. Lord Hartwell would gladly marry their daughter.

“You want to be wed sooner? Then are you
pleased to be marrying Emma?”

“The weeks I have spent courting Emma had
pleased me immeasurably. We are both peers, but my father is a duke
and thus he does hold more power than you. With the protection his
name provides, I am sure this ensuing mess will be easier on her.
We can also travel abroad earlier if it gets unbearable.”