To Love a Tormented Earl - Bridget Barton Page 0,14

men disappeared into trees inside the enclosure.

'It can’t be,' she breathed aloud.

Maximilian Emery...is alive?

Chapter 5

'I beg your pardon,' Max called to the two ladies ahead of him on the footpath.

The north-west enclosure was widely acknowledged to be the loveliest part of Hyde Park, and it pleased him to have this meeting with Miss Whitmore occur here. Whatever unpleasantness she had experienced prior to this moment, at least now they were surrounded with pastoral scenes, the shade of trees mitigating the increasingly hot temperature of the afternoon.

‘My lady!’ he said.

Miss Whitmore turned in response to his call, and the colour drained from her face.

'Emilia,' he heard her companion say. 'Emilia, what is the matter?'

With Roberts a few steps behind, Max closed the distance between them, giving the companion a nod. 'It’s quite alright,' he said. 'The lady’s reaction to seeing me is to be expected.'

All of them regarded each other in a moment of awkward silence. Miss Whitmore stared at him, her dark eyes large as saucers. The companion stood near her, obviously protective. Roberts came to a halt beside Max, stroking his moustache as he was wont to do when anxious. Then Max mustered his good manners.

'Miss Whitmore, may I introduce you to my friend, Lieutenant Thomas Roberts?'

The lady recovered herself as well, and said, 'Delighted, Lieutenant Roberts. And this is my companion, Miss Bromley. Miss Bromley, this is the Honour—'

Max held up a palm. 'Please, call me Mr. Milton.'

Miss Whitmore blinked prettily.

‘I shall endeavour to explain, if you would be so kind as to take a turn through the enclosure with me, Miss Whitmore,’ Max said.

Miss Whitmore cocked her face to the side, glancing from Max to Miss Bromley. At last she said, ‘Of course, Mr. Milton. Erm, Miss Bromley, allow me to introduce you to, erm...Mr. Milton.’

The introductions settled, Max took Miss Whitmore’s arm and began to walk again. He was faintly aware that her companion had fallen into step behind him with Roberts, and was making friends with the dog.

'Then is it...? Is it really you?' Miss Whitmore murmured, visibly confused.

With a deep breath, Max said in a quiet voice, 'Yes, Miss Whitmore. It is I, Maximilian Emery, the Earl of Ceastre. I do apologise for the shock.'

'How—how can this be?'

Max sighed, unwilling to reveal the entire sordid tale, but knowing he would have to give some explanation. 'The story is...complicated. To be brief, I was—well. Three years ago I was the victim of a blackmailer.'

Emilia gasped.

‘A person made false accusations against me. It is the reason I left for the continent, as I was very much distressed by the incident,’ he explained.

‘But you were reported to have died,’ she said, laying the situation out in the plainest of terms.

'I did become ill,' he said. 'Very ill, whilst in Portugal. Typhus.'

'Heaven forfend,' Emilia said, pressing her hands together under her chin in a show of fear.

'I met my friend there, the lieutenant, who walks with your companion behind us. He was volunteering at the hospital where I received treatment. I told him my story, and together we came up with the idea to give it out that I had died, until such a time as I was fully recovered and ready to confront my accusers.'

'You’ve been unwell all this time?'

'Indeed. I very nearly did perish, in fact. The illness weakened me so it has taken years to regain my strength. But now, as you can see, I am quite hale again.'

'How terrible,' Emilia murmured. Then she gave him an alarmed look. ‘That is to say—I did not mean that your recovery is terrible—’

‘No, indeed, I understand your meaning,’ Max said with a smile.

Some of the colour had returned to her cheeks, Max noted with a sense of relief. He hated to think he had upset her, especially after seeing her earlier already in a state of anxiety.

Thinking of that brought back his concerns about her reputation, however. There was no polite way of inquiring about her activities before she arrived at the Park, but Max couldn’t resist probing.

'I think I saw you, earlier. On Piccadilly?' he said.

Emilia’s cheeks reddened noticeably, which both satisfied and irritated him. Whatever she had been up to, ‘twas something of which she felt ashamed. Hell and damnation.

'How astonishing,' the lady said. 'I haven’t been to Piccadilly in weeks.'

And now she was lying. Max was discomfited indeed.

But the issue at hand has nothing to do with Miss Whitmore’s illicit activities, he reminded himself. He was there to ask her not to tell anyone