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The Duke's Winter Promise: A Christmas Regency Romance

Page 5

by Isabella Thorne


  Emily could not help but wonder at his character. Having spent his most recent years under the wing of his notorious father, she expected that some of the elder’s ways must have rubbed off. From her brother’s too-wide smile, the same which seemed present upon many of the faces that had partaken in the impromptu hunting party, Emily had no doubt that a lively atmosphere and deep cups were still well-kept traditions.

  She could not help but think it a shame that men were still allowed to be boys for so much of their lives, and yet, girls must become ladies.

  Alexander, however, seemed to have his wits about him, moreso than her brother, truth be told. Either, he had restrained more than the others or, perhaps, had a stronger stomach for the drink. She observed him for another moment, but he seemed steady. Well-practiced, she decided.

  “Goodness,” Alexander said without apparent notice of her shrewd appraisal. “This is a pleasant surprise. It has been, what? Eight years since you last visited Northwick?”

  “About that,” Emily nodded. “An age, to be sure. Finishing school and then London.”

  “Then you are quite finished?” he teased, and Emily smiled.

  She made a show of evaluating herself. She glanced at one shoulder, and then the next, picked at the elegant fabric of her skirt, and nodded. “It seems that all of the loose ends have been tied,” she said in conclusion.

  “What a shame,” Edmund piped in and tweaked his sister upon the nose. “I much prefer the loose ends.”

  Emily swatted his hand away and did her best to maintain her bearing. She would not fall prey to their picking as she had used to. She was above such silliness now.

  “Emily is not allowed to be amusing anymore,” Edmund said in a feigned whisper. “Mother says.”

  “Ah, I see,” Alexander nodded with a look that one might think meant he agreed, but Emily recalled that that particular, slight raise of his brow meant he thought the information ridiculous.

  “We do not all have the luxury of reveling in childish ways,” Emily gave her brother a serious look. “We are adults now.”

  She tweaked his nose in return just to make her point, as well as show that she could be amusing when she wished. So long as mother did not see, Emily amended. She would not get a lecture on deportment from her aunt since Aunt Agnes had much less restrictions than Lady Kentleworth.

  “You too will soon learn the way of it, brother, or else you shall get yourself a silly wife with no money, no sense, and no sympathy from me.”

  “I shan’t have a silly wife,” Edmund grumbled.

  “Oh, you probably will,” Alexander muttered and Edmund gave him a look.

  “That’s what happens when you are simple-minded,” Alexander teased.

  This comment precipitated Edmund switching his glass to his left hand and giving Alexander a swift punch in the arm. “That is exactly the inappropriate behavior to which the lady was referring,” Alexander scolded while he attempted to control his laughter.

  “Em doesn’t count,” Edmund said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Buried somewhere beneath all the polish that finishing school heaped on her, Em is still my sister, and I know her best.”

  “I suppose you would,” Alexander said with a wry smile at his friend and a glance towards Emily.

  Edmund raised a finger in admonishment. “Em would rather ride than sew and she still prefers blueberries off the vine and plum pudding to mincemeat.”

  “Somewhere in your coat is a gentleman,” Emily laughed in reply. “Besides, I can ride and sew and be a lady. Although I do prefer blueberries, I no longer eat them from the field.”

  “Ah, but how many blueberries is it proper for a lady to eat?” Edmund teased. “I’m sure that school gave you an exact count, not to be exceeded.”

  “And how much cocoa is appropriate for a cup of chocolate?” Alexander added and Emily felt her face color. As much as can be stirred into the cup, she thought, but she did not voice her opinion. She suddenly felt out of sorts.

  If she teased him as before then she wondered if it might be mistaken by onlookers as flirtation. She could certainly never flirt with Alexander; it would be unnatural to their friendship. Even more, as an eligible lady, she could not afford to give others in the room the wrong impression.

  She glanced around as if to find them watching or perhaps it was just that she could no longer bear the intensity of Alexander’s gaze and must look away. She sensed Alexander’s eyes still upon her.

  Her skin felt tight and tingly as if her London suitors were at her shoulder saying you cannot choose here. You must choose in London. How could she choose another with Alexander right in front of her? How could she think of another gentleman when he was within her sight?

  She looked up at him through her lashes. Lud, he was handsome. What had happened to the skinny boy who was once her friend? He grew up, she reminded herself, as we all must.

  Emily got control of her galloping emotions and the small group talked on for a while longer. Emily enjoyed the banter between the men, proof that their friendship had remained the same throughout the years. She looked for William, who was always their third.

  She found her cousin speaking with another gentleman she did not know, and surprisingly, Henrietta. She tried to turn back to the conversation, but found herself standing awkwardly to the side as the gentlemen conversed, aside in Edmund and Alexander’s friendship. She had never been on the outside before.

  She did not know how to speak to this new Alexander. She decided to keep her interactions formal, safe. That felt wrong too, especially as old stories were told and she found herself mentioned in many of them. Still, it was the best option if she were to keep Alexander at a distance.

  It was not as if they had remained close. For all that she knew he might be an entirely different person. She might very well disapprove of him now, especially if he had his father’s habits, which seemed likely. No one could be so handsome and be uncorrupted.

  Edmund suddenly called across the room with his hand in the air. “Oh, look! It’s Anne. Em, you didn’t say that the Albrights were here,” He castigated his sister.

  He spoke again to catch the lady’s attention and stepped forward. Never a particularly graceful man, even when he was not drinking, Edmund lurched forward giving the fire a wide birth and bumped into Emily instead.

  Edmund’s apology from over her shoulder could not save Emily as she stepped forward tripping on the front hem of her dress as she had as a child. She would have fallen most embarrassingly in front of the whole crowd if a firm hand had not grabbed her by the elbow and held her upright. Alexander. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Emily felt her face grow hot with the thought of her averted embarrassment and realized she was sporting her colors. She was acting like a girl right out of the schoolroom. She was a woman grown. She stared at the ground for a moment as she collected herself, aware of the hand that remained warm on her arm. It was quite a large hand; firm and warm. It shifted to her mid-back as Alexander drew her close.

  “Careful,” his unfamiliarly deep voice coaxed. His hand upon her back guided her to the empty spot at his side, safely away from further disaster. But what disaster would his touch lead her to, she wondered and her face flushed even hotter.

  Alexander released her and adjusted his position so as to give her the space that she thought she desired. Emily instantly felt the lack of his touch and almost leaned back into him before she caught herself. She drew a shaky breath and tried to convince herself it was only from the near-fall.

  Sudden whispers must have reminded the young Edmund of his blunder and he immediately took a more subtle note in calling Miss Albright to join them. Anne shook her head at Edmund’s antics and she offered him her best scolding look, then she giggled which entirely countermanded the chiding expression.

  “Edmund, you are a beast,” Anne snipped as she finally joined the group. Like Emily, Anne could hardly stay mad at the lovable lout that was Edmund, in spite of the fact that
he had been trying their nerves for as long as they all could remember.

  “Not to worry,” Edmund replied. “I take full ownership for the fault, but Emily fared well enough.”

  “She might have landed in the fire,” Anne scolded.

  “I thank my friend for the save,” he nodded at Alexander. “However, my sister is not so graceless as she once was, if you recall. Quite the opposite, in fact. She has taken the Ton by storm, but still refuses to choose amongst her many, many…” Edmund raised his glass and took a drink before continuing. “Many suitors.”

  Emily felt the heat rise in her cheeks once more, and she could only hope that her constant state of flush could be explained by the proximity to the fire, and the warmth of the room. She wanted to press her hands to her cheeks to cool them, but she did not. “Not so many,” she whispered.

  “It only takes one,” Alexander’s deep voice whispered in her ear. His breath was so very warm it seemed to melt her insides.

  “I didn’t. I don’t,” she said stumbling over her words with as much aplomb as she had just stumbled over her skirts. Her face burning with embarrassment.

  “A lady has a right to take her time,” Anne came to Emily’s aid once more. “Besides, she has nearly made her decision. Only, it is not for you to know.”

  Emily stifled an inward groan. She hoped that information did not get back to her mother. She understood Anne’s saying it to silence her brother though. It was not as if he or anyone else near had a real care of whom Emily chose for her husband. Still, she wished for a few more months without the threat of impending marriage hanging over her head. There would be no more avoiding it once she returned to London.

  “By that, you mean Mother has made the decision,” Edmund said. “Or, at the very least given her strong recommendation to the one or two which Em can pick. It’s a farce. My sister does not care for London any more than I do. She certainly shan’t choose a man who lives there exclusively.”

  “Why not?” Emily asked, curious as to her brother’s sudden strong opinion on the topic. “I do not mind London so much. As Father says, it has access to everything one could possibly need.”

  “So you will let Father choose?” Edmund counted off on his fingers. “Not a Frenchman, not a Whig, not a commoner, not in debt, but a peer that will vote accountably in Lords, which means with Father. Who is marrying the man then? You or Father?”

  “Come now. That is not so.”

  “Yes it is.” Edmund scrunched his nose as if he could not agree with her statement less. “Pfft. Hawthorne or Beatram? Slim pickings if you ask me.”

  “Well, no one asked you,” Emily snapped.

  “You deserve better that’s all, Sis.”

  “Shall we speak of a more pleasant topic?” Alexander broke in to ease the growing tension between the siblings.

  Emily offered him a look of gratitude and was struck again by how handsome he had grown. His eyes danced with merriment. His cheekbones were high and rosy and his lips were so full. Why was she even thinking of his lips? Would they be soft she wondered or would they hold just the bit of firmness she had felt in his hands? A liquid heat filled her and she looked down, gaining control of her thoughts.

  Alexander had saved her pride twice this day it seemed. She told herself that the bubbling tension inside of her was embarrassment at the personal nature of the conversation, but a secret voice inside of her head whispered that her sudden and unaccustomed awkwardness stemmed from the gentleman himself. It was, after all, a strange conversation to have with someone who was only a distant memory of a friend.

  She reminded herself this handsome stranger was Alexander, the boy with whom she had once shared secrets, as had he done with her. Only he was no longer a boy and she was no longer a graceless freckle-faced little girl.

  It had been years since they’d had a serious conversation. She wanted to flirt and to prove with wit that she was no child, but there was no going back to casual acquaintance. Alexander was not some stranger whom she could tease in fun and then brush aside. What could she say? Nothing at all, she supposed.

  Instead, she forced herself to smile and stuck to simple topics, making polite conversation for the appropriate amount of time before she and Anne made some excuse to return to the other Albright sisters. The conversation was wholly unappealing. Emily could not remember a single interaction with Alexander ever being so forced.

  Before she turned away, Alexander asked, “You will accept my invitation for dinner on St. Nicholas Day, will you not?”

  Emily nodded, but she felt a niggling of unease. She remembered again the duke’s parties from days past. There was always a big to-do at Bramblewood for Christmas, or any other time there was an excuse to celebrate.

  She knew that her brother would want to go, if only to be near his friend, and found that she did not abhor the idea, not if Alexander would be there. Surely, the duke would keep his proclivities in check if he was inviting ladies.

  “Yes,” Emily replied. “Of course. If the Duke of Bramblewood is hosting a dinner, please inform His Grace that I would be honored to attend.”

  “You just have!” Edmund chuckled lightly, the sound turned into a full-fledged snicker and she realized that her brother’s garbled introductions at the beginning of the evening were a-purpose.

  “Oh!” Emily gasped. She did not know that Alexander’s father had passed away. She did not imagine many missed the old goat, but nonetheless, propriety must be kept. Condolences must be spoken.

  “I am truly sorry. I did not know.” She tossed an annoyed glance at her brother and then looked back at the new duke with kindness. “May I express my deepest sympathies?”

  Alexander shook his head and revealed a sad smile. “It has been difficult since my father passed,” he explained. “But, the wound is not so fresh. We were never close.”

  Emily’s heart broke for the hardship that this man had endured. It broke for the boy that she remembered, who was now entirely without family. She thought of her own parents. She differed so much from them, but if they were gone, she would still miss them. She did not feel a strong kinship with them. Even so, she would be devastated to have them pass.

  She was grateful for their care and all that they have done to ensure her future. That, at least, was a form of love. What love did this man have since his mother died? She hoped at least that her Aunt Agnes and Uncle Cecil had stood in for what was lacking.

  Alexander seemed to bear the burden of responsibility well on his broad shoulders. Her thoughts stuck as she considered those broad shoulders and she was once again suffused with heat. Emily realized she very much wished to attend the dinner and observe him in his home. Truthfully, observing him in any way was a delight.

  She lowered her lashes and peered at him. He was a treat to the eyes, but she did not know his character any longer. She hoped that he had not continued in his father’s ways, although with such an example to follow she could not be sure. Still, she could not think unkindly of her old friend. This was Alexander, in spite of the unfamiliar feeling he raised within her.

  “Well, then, Al—your Grace,” Emily corrected herself before she fully spoke his given name aloud and dipped into a curtsey. “I would be most honored to attend.” She looked at Edmund with narrowed eyes. “You, I will speak to later.”

  Edmund smiled his eyes bright with merriment.

  Oh, he was cruel to have tricked her so.

  Alexander scoffed at Emily’s new level of formality, but he said nothing, seeming to know that Emily would cling to the title over their childhood familiarities. She could only hope that he suspected her motivations to be led by decorum, rather than by the truth, that his title now held him at a distance. Use of his Christian name even in her own thoughts felt too familiar after all of these years passed.

  Whatever was wrong with her? She chastised herself for the discomfort that should not exist between them, but the feeling rankled. The young Duke of Bramblewood was nothing more than a boy with w
hom she had once raced across the countryside along with her brother, Anne, and numerous other local children.

  Emily had to force herself to think of him with dirt upon his nose, spindly limbs, and skinned knees. Why was it that this new meeting, after such time, should hold any sway over her composure? What difference should it make that he was now a duke of great standing? None. That was not the problem, she told herself. It was not because he was a now a duke. It was because he was a man.

  The boy that she thought she knew as a friend was gone, and now, there in his stead was a man grown: A most attractive man that she found deeply intriguing. Emily glanced over her shoulder to find him still watching her, and she quickly turned away.

  6

  For the remainder of the evening, Emily kept herself at a distance while using great stealth to find out more about how the duke had faired in the years she had been away. Keeping her ears turned toward any hint of information about her old friend. She found that he was well liked and seemed to be respected for the choices that he was making in progress of his land although they were, understandably, slow in coming.

  She found her way back to her aunt and uncle, and they were speaking of Alexander. No, they were speaking of the young duke, which was not really the same thing at all. Curious, Emily joined them. She was not outright collecting information on Alexander. She was only interested in the news.

  Sir Eldorf, an elderly gentleman whose sons were off at war, greeted Emily and then turned back to his conversation with Uncle Cecil.

  “He is off on the right foot,” she heard Sir Eldorf say to her uncle. “It is well that he has taken your advice, Stratton”

  “He and William have always been friends.” Uncle Cecil admitted with a solemn nod. “And not unlike sons to me.”

  Of course, Emily had known that and was not surprised to hear that Alexander, the duke, she amended in her mind, took her uncle’s council. After all, Uncle Cecil had experience in managing a large estate and in the teaching of such things. He had already done so for Cousin William, but William would inherit Uncle Cecil’s title and property.

 

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