Chapter 5: Chapter 4
Emett's luxurious hackney was carrying him back from a business trip that had taken him to London. The coach gently rocked back and forth maintaining a steady speed on flattened gravel and sand. Emett did a mechanical, half-hearted survey of the business documents. He wished his father would come back to take care of all this. He had his heart set elsewhere. He didn't want to step into his father's shoes, he wanted to make his own mark on the world.
It was so stressful at times, managing everything. Emett felt caged. He wanted to leave his home and live elsewhere, away from his father, away from his family estate and away from the woman- the girl he had grown to love. It was a spineless bastard's love; he couldn't keep his hands off her, she was barely eighteen and he was pouncing on her like a crazed loin on a deer hunt. How could he justify his actions to himself and if Rebecca found out how would he justify them to her? Francesca didn't understand him. He clearly saw that his attempts at closeness were more threatening to her peace of mind than anything she had ever encountered in her uneventful dear life. He, on the other hand, never really felt the need to give her a chance. She just had to accept him as he was, she had to. He wouldn't give her time, he wouldn't give her space. He wanted her and he wouldn't even wait for her to be familiar or acceptable of the idea. Emett was overload of passion- for now and forever. When he had returned from his studies at Oxford and had laid eyes on Francesca after a period of three years he had known that she had made a significant impression on him, he however, hadn't expected himself to fall in love, because nobody fell for someone below his or her stature. Emmett, a born and bred 'gentleman', was still ruled by traditional ideals, she was born below him therefore he'd never consider her as a mate. Now it had been two years, he wasn't that idealistic anymore, to hell with society and all its rules, he wanted Francesca and he was bent on having her. The fact that she lived on his property didn't make things very easy, she was so near yet he wasn't allowed to go near or touch, she was so close yet he couldn't get close to talk and love, she lived a few feet away and yet it would be horrendous on his part to steal her away from her home. His mind's functions fluctuated between want of her and the business dealings he had to conduct during the day. What was a man in his position to do; both day and night were torture and there was never, absolutely never any solace. He was going insane with the crazy idea of self-imposed celibacy, and for whom? It had been two months now, he hadn't even let Rebecca come close to him. Francesca didn't even bother to ask him why he wanted to be near her, if she would but ask, he was willing to pour his heart out to her, but she never asked, always preferred staying at an arm's length, avoided him like a life threatening illness and he was in love with her. The irony of the situation was never lost on him and yet as a mere mortal he could do very less to change anything; she would run farther and he'd still chase. He felt so helpless and pathetic. This was going to be his life from now, an absolute farce. This girl had driven him to the brink of madness, he was always the one wanting, starved, and she was unmoved. Heartless- she was heartless, if she would have had a heart she would have tried to care.
Emett felt the intense burden of his charged emotions on his sagged shoulders. He had to give Francesca credit, she had only slapped him, she could have done much more. The way he was treating her, she should have complained about him to her sister, to his father, to the entire household. Maybe she was trying to understand him in her own novel way, he thought, maybe she was going to arrive at an answer soon. He felt slight encouragement with this sudden conclusion he had reached, maybe she was going to give him a chance- in due time and maybe, he needed to be a little more considerate of her slow progress. She was younger, she was inexperienced, she was naïve. He was going to give her more time, he decided, he was going to let her come to him.
The coach finally entered his gated residence, he wouldn't have admitted it with ready enthusiasm but it was a relief to be back home. London and work had been grueling and he had house guests he needed to attend to; Rebecca had arrived just after the end of the season, his uncle had also come along. The idea was that his uncle would share some of the responsibilities of their business and the estate with his nephew but Emett knew that his uncle's main concern was to have some time to unwind in the countryside; his uncle's ulterior motive was to provide his daughter time alone with Emett so that Emett would finally pluck up the courage to propose.
Emett scanned his home, pride and admiration thawed his cold, harsh face. Through the hackney's window his home was beauty, elegance and grace. It had the regal air of his ancestors engraved in every brick, block and boulder. His home was perched on the elevated piece of land of the property. He could get a view of miles away when he stared out of one of those oversized windows- it was green everywhere whenever he peeked outside, different shades of green adsorbed on the golden Earth as far as the eyes could see.
He entered his residence, uplifted and sated. For now, he was satisfied to be back home, among family, friends and an impossible love. No matter how much Rebecca pushed him to move to London he knew he would never adjust to the pace of the metropolitan life; even if he were to leave home it would be to settle in some foreign land and not London, London had so many memories, each one worse than its predecessor. He remembered it like it was yesterday, his mother's life ended in London, during the mid of the Season. While everyone else was enjoying themselves, dancing and merry making, his mother was fighting her own personal demons, she had taken to drinking, she suffered bouts of depression every now and then and wished to remain indoors all the time, shunning any form of company and disregarding the fact that she had a son to take care of. She had been a passionate woman with least concern for societal limitations and code of conduct. She had been raised in an affluent family, a daughter of a duke, and she had married an earl. Her status at the pinnacle of society had ensured that people follow her lead rather than scorn or ostracize her for her extrovert self. She had taken everything for granted; she was indulgent most of the time. Everyone beneath her had been insignificant to Rosalind, she basked in the warmth of the glory and admiration others bestowed and yet, she considered herself superior- in stature she was, and she never let anyone forget it, not even for a moment. Her vanity, her pomposity and her meanness (directed towards all, excluding her husband, son and selected family) were her downfall. One cannot expect to breed hate and receive love; she had been utterly mistaken in her imprudent belief. The end was the realization that she had never had any friends, just vultures lurking about, looking for game. Samuel Ernest's infidelity was the last straw, her self-esteem suffered an incurable blow, she had believed herself beautiful and enough for her husband. Samuel Ernest, on the other hand, had started feeling suffocated by their relationship. She was the reigning queen who was stripping him of his authority, his power, his prowess. Even though he had once vowed to love her and practice fidelity unlike the other husbands of the ton, he lost the battle and blamed her for his defeat. She blamed him for everything else. To her he was obnoxious, loathsome and insufferable, she was giving back as good as she got, but this was momentary strength of character, she was to resign to her fate, she had to break down.
Emett still remembered and relived the horrifying day as if it had all happened yesterday; he had been only ten and had gone out with his governess to play in Hyde Park. When he can home after his gay jaunts and miniature kite flying he had run straight up to his mother's sleeping quarters, during those days also, she was partial to staying shut up in her room all day but Emett had wanted to relate to her his exciting adventures in the park.
The most haunting moment of the memory was the instant he opened the door to his mother's bedroom and found her sprawled on the floor, looking a very pale, deathly blue. Frantically he ran up to her and shook her with as much force as a boy his age could muster up, she had felt so heavy to him, she hadn't moved. As young as he had been, he was still able to realize that his mother was dead. He had then passionately wept at her side and cried, "Mama! Mama! Please come back!"
He was soon taken to his father by the hysterical governess. It was an inglorious end to his mother's regal life.
No matter what she was to the world, she had been Emett's mother and before her lapse into the deep hole of melancholy, she had been an exemplary mother to him. He was being raised like a prince by her, she had loved him dearly. He accepted all her flaws like any child who finds no fault with his loving parent. He was shut off to her image in front of the general public, to him she was simply his mother: an ocean of love and care.
Emett entered his home to find his butler anxiously awaiting his arrival. As soon as he handed him his coat and hat, Jerome spoke up monotonically, "Your uncle has been waiting for you my Lord. He is in the dining room now, eating lunch. He wished for you to join him as soon as you arrived."
Emett stifled a look of irritated acquiescence and merely nodded his head in casual acknowledgement. From the foyer he made his way directly to the dining room, his steps light and hushed against the polished marble floor.
The room he entered was entirely too large for the dining purpose of so small a family. Emett often pondered upon the pointlessness of all the splendor and showiness that was his life. He might be an eminent member of the society but it had never brought him much good; he had been raised in luxury but paid a very high price for it. His house might be dear to him sometimes but its quality of pomp and show was never lost on Emett. He was accustomed to it and took everything for granted but he had often seen a look of barely veiled awe in most that saw his abode for the first time. The scrutiny and astonishment of others often left Emett unsettled, people judged him by his wealth, he wished he be judged for who he was and not by the opulence and lavishness that had been ancestrally bestowed.
"Ah! Emett! I see you have finally arrived, son. Come join me. You must be famished after such a long journey." Emett placed himself in a chair to the right of his uncle. He took hold of a napkin and gestured a servant who was standing close to table refilling his uncle's glass of wine to bring him food and drink. Emett could see his uncle voraciously eating the lobster on his plate, he was taking in very generous portions of the fish with each bite. Emett found the image slightly comical and could not help stifling a grin. Emett's uncle was a bulky man, the first thing one noticed when one looked at him was the protruding belly of his, it was evidence to the man's hearty appetite. During recent years his uncle had developed another penchant- that for facial hair, which had resulted in him growing a voluminous, grey-white mustache which was the same color as his slightly wavy hair.
"You are smiling?!" his uncle inquired of Emett, surprised.
Emett responded, "Why yes! You and your food are always a fetching picture."
Martin Ernest displayed false offense, "Behave boy!"
Emett looked at his uncle and smiled, his uncle could only keep up the pretense for so long, his shoulders also shook with mirth. In more than one way Emett was closer to his uncle than he had ever been to his own father. His father was distant, he had made his mother so unhappy, he had never taken time out of his busy schedule to pay any attention to his son. Emett could confidently say that he had been raised by the housekeepers rather than his own father. Even Mrs. Louis, the cook, had bestowed more affection on him compared to his own father. After his mother's death, Martin Ernest had been a constant presence in Emett's life, always compensating for his father's lack of concern. He owed so much to his uncle, which again made him feel guilty about the way he was behaving with his daughter. He did not know if there was an easy way to let his uncle know of his intentions, to explain to him why he could not marry Rebecca. He knew this would ruin the relationship he had with his uncle, in his head he questioned himself for the millionth time if it was all worth the trouble, regrettably he always arrived at the same conclusion- he will not change his mind for anyone.
"I hope the deal with Hansels went smoothly?" his uncle questioned Emett, helping himself to another serving of the lobster.
"Yes! I am glad to inform you that they have promised to invest in the housing project with us."
Emett had been going to London to oversee a housing project being developed by the government for households with minimum incomes. They needed investors to come join in their venture and Emett had convinced Lord Hansel and his brother to invest alongside him and his uncle.
Emett then began to discuss details of their arrangement with his uncle who then suggested moving their discussion to the parlor where they could also enjoy a game and port while discussing matters of business.
Half way through their discussion Rebecca walked into the parlor to join the two of them as they played their game of whist.
"Rebecca, take a seat," Emett offered her an empty chair placed right next to him, the gesture made Martin beam with joy. His imagination led him on a ride through the future- he found his daughter married to his nephew whom he loved like a son and then painted a mental picture of his daughter cradling his little grandchild in her arms. Ah, now that was a fetching picture! After Rebecca had seated herself both the men continued their play. After ten minutes of play the game had come down to a crucial point, both Emett and his uncle sat looking at their cards in contemplative silence. Rebecca noticed how serious they had both grown, she herself wasn't the least bit partial to card games but she made allowances because her father, an even Emett considered card playing as their chosen past time.
"Frozen in time?" Rebecca quipped.
Emett turned to her with confusion, he had been completely immersed in the game, "I am sorry?"
"What has you so engrossed Emett?" she rephrased.
"I might lose! That is enough to get anyone's attention."
"Father please let him win so that I can steal him away from you and we can go outside for a little while," Rebecca all but ordered her father firmly.
Emett looked at her, ready to tell her that her father was going to do no such thing, that it would be nothing short of an outrage for him but before he could utter a single word his uncle had already dropped his remaining cards on the pile that had been in the center.
"I accept defeat!" his uncle declared candidly.
"Uncle! You didn't have to listen to her, we could have gone out later..." Emett protested.
"It doesn't matter. I don't want to completely absorb your attentions while I am here. It seems my daughter is in dire need of some company so as a father I need to take care of her happiness before I take care of my own! Go with her."
Emett reluctantly got out of his imposing, mahogany chair, Rebecca hastily linked her arms through his and cheerfully commanded him, "Come along now."
Emett was dragged out of the parlor by Rebecca with Martin Ernest watching both of them with unveiled, joyous triumph.
"Well?" Emett inquired.
"Well, what?" Rebecca replied innocently.
"You have me outside now, all to yourself. What is it that you wanted so badly that it could not wait till I had finished my game?"
"Emett you think you know me so well!" she had brought him outside to ask him to relieve Francesca of kitchen duty he had thrust upon her.
"Don't I? I know you want something from me..."
She looked into his eyes- the haunting shade of grey, he was so handsome, she had never seen a more handsome man in her entire life and she didn't hold that opinion because of a bias but because she knew it was true. She forgot all about any discussion she wanted to have with him. Instead she wondered how a man like him hadn't become completely vain. He was the center of everyone's attention, all the time- he was entitled to feeling more distraught than he usually did. A chill went through her just by the way he stared back into her eyes, her desperate prayer in that instant was that he belong only to her, forever. "I don't want anything from you...I want you!"
Emett brows shot up in comic surprise, "Really? Imagine! If uncle had known why his daughter was dragging me away, he would have drowned in shame!"
Rebecca decided not to take offence because he had been smiling as he had said those words, she clutched on to his arms tightly and whispered, "Take me somewhere" and then feeling adventurous suddenly she added, "How about I take you somewhere for a change?"
Emett laughed. He liked it when she was coy, "I am at your disposal."
They ran, both of them, through the rear lawns and before he knew what she was about, she was dragging him through the maze of tall trees to the secret fountain. Emett's mood changed drastically, this situation was reminiscent of what had happened between him and Francesca not two days ago and he was still very upset over it. Rebecca had made the wrong choice.
They reached the fountain and paused close to its boundary, they looked at one another, the smile Rebecca gave him was laced with simmering sexuality, she put her arms around his neck and dragged his face down to meet her lips. He, however, could not stop thinking about the contrast between the actions of the two women who had been put in a similar situation: he had been standing here on the same spot with Francesca and when he had tried to kiss her she couldn't think of anything better than to slap him on the other hand, Rebecca could not wait to get her hands on him. Funnier still was his reaction to the actions of both these women, the one who was repulsed attracted him far more and the one who was willing, disinterested him. He kissed her with preoccupation.
"Something wrong?" she instantaneously guessed that something was bothering him, she let her arms loose from around his neck and hugged herself protectively as if she was shielding herself from Emett's distant demeanor and lack of warmth.
Emett fiercely wanted to avoid a discussion about feelings be it his or hers. He decided to turn on the charms instead, it was so much easier, "No! You are becoming paranoid of late. I thought you brought me here because you were feeling a little adventurous", he let his comments sink in and then continued, "now then, stop thinking and start doing something. If you don't hurry I might have to take the lead."
His devilish grin was all the encouragement she needed and this time when she kissed him he responded with uncontrolled, insatiable ardor.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone