Carols & Courtship

Tuesday, December 23 {EDITED}

In the afternoon, Colonel Ambrose summoned Holly to his study. She'd spent the day in quiet repose after a night of such excitement, and her family had done well not to interrupt her solitude thus far. The study door was ajar, waiting to admit her as she walked down the hall.

When Holly entered the study, her father was in his usual position behind the desk.

"Have a seat," he offered before gesturing to a steaming pot on the tea table to her right. "You can help yourself to tea if you would like."

"No, thank you," she replied, taking a seat across from her father. She wondered why he'd summoned her, but his stoic gaze gave no clue to his intentions.

He pulled a small square of folded parchment from his desk. "Remember when you asked me to write to my colleagues in London?"

"Yes—" Holly cut in. "About Mr. Embry. But I've changed my mind in my regard for him. Whatever your business partners have to say, I don't wish to hear it." The name alone caused a shiver to run the length of her spine.

Colonel Ambrose gave Holly a questioning look, his grey brows pushing together to form a deep crease right above his nose. "Are you sure? The contents of this letter has given me cause for great concern. I really wish you would hear it."

Holly unclasped her hands and pressed her clammy palms to the fabric of her skirts. She didn't want to talk of Victor, especially not with her father. Every breath, every flinch, she feared might betray her shame at what had transpired the previous night. "Go on then," she said, careful not to let her voice shake.

"Mr. Harmon certainly had plenty to say, but first he warned me to keep all of my daughters, married or otherwise, away from Mr. Embry," Colonel Ambrose began with some astonishment. "But that wasn't the most surprising," he continued. "Over the years, it seems Victor Embry earned for himself a reputation among the women of London as a man with an insatiable, as Mr. Harmon puts it, appetite."

Holly felt her cheeks color as she remember Mr. Embry's talk of her thrist. She bit back the bile in her throat.

"It seems several years ago he married a newly widowed woman of fortune who kept him in a comfortable home and in all the finest circles of society. Much to the dismay of the husbands of London's elite, marriage didn't hinder his capricious, and often reprobate, behaviour. The widow, enamoured with the young and charming Embry, they say died of a broken heart when she found out about her husband's illicit pursuits."

Holly felt like she was choking on her tongue. "He was married?" she stammered.

"So it seems. With the widow's fortune in his possession, he fled London. No one knew where he went until Mr. Harmon received my letter."

"I–I can't believe it, " Holly began to say, but after Mr. Embry's attack on the stair, she found the words altogether much more believable. "This is terrible."

"Quite right," Colonel Ambrose said while he tucked the letter back into a drawer of his desk. "Then you understand me when I say Embry is no longer welcome in our home?"

"Of course." Holly wondered what the others would say when she no longer spoke to him at parties. Perhaps her father had already told them. "Does mother know?"

Colonel Ambrose nodded. "I showed her the letter first and she thought it would be best if I told you. She feels quite terrible now for encouraging you to seek Mr. Embry's favor."

"She shouldn't. We were all deceived."

"I hope this doesn't cause you too much pain." Colonel Ambrose rose from his chair and rounded the desk to pull Holly into a hug.