Alexander grimaced. “It is my charge, but it is not yet complete.”
“Everything takes time,” Emily defended softly.
13
Dessert arrived and Emily turned her focus to the far end of the table, in order to avoid the smoldering eyes that followed her movements. He knew. Of that she was certain. The duke knew that she felt unsettled in his presence. He could still read her as well as ever, even after all of these years.
Like the time that one of the village girls had poked fun at Emily’s freckles and she had lied and told him that it had not hurt her feelings. She had been determined to return to her chamber and paint them over. She had already taken the powder, about which her aunt would have had a fit if she had learned was in Emily’s possession.
Instead, Alexander had complemented the feature and told her that they made her unique.
“I like every single one of them,” he had said, “and if you erase them then you won’t be the same.”
Together, they had dumped the powder in the river and filled the elegant glass jar with wilderness treasures instead. Her freckles had mostly faded in time, and she was not so conscious of them now. She wondered if he really did like them. No one else ever had.
As a child, the ability to see past her barriers had meant that he could sense her worries and fears; calm her tears when she had been hurt, or bolster her confidence when she needed it most. As an adult, it meant that she was unable to hide the flush of her cheeks, the quickening of her breath, or the wide doe eyes when she realized he was teasing her. Only, they were no longer children, and she no longer knew what to say to his flirtatious taunts.
“Almond cake,” he said, taking one of the white pastries from the server and putting it on her plate himself. “Is it not still your favorite?”
Emily nodded. She realized suddenly that the creamy mushroom soup, the candied carrots and beef with rosemary were all her favorites as well. She did not trust herself to speak. How did he remember these things? Moreover, how was he capable of knowing what exactly she felt, when even she could not say?
She had no doubt that he was noting each fluctuation in her exterior manner, although she thought she had hidden her feelings so perfectly. In London, she had never struggled to present exactly whatever image she desired. There were too many people and too many distractions for any one person to be the sole focus of another’s attention. Here everyone knew too much about one another.
“You remembered, Your Grace?” she asked in a mere whisper.
The duke laid a hand on top of hers and she felt a sudden rush of heat suffuse her. “I am the same Alexander that I have always been,” he said. “Have I not always remembered what you would prefer?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” she said, but nothing felt the same at all. He seemed to remember every little nuance about her, and she was at a loss. She could barely speak in his presence. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl.
In a short time, dessert was completed and the dishes were cleared. Emily expected the men to retire to another room with their drinks, allowing the women to refresh themselves, but instead of an extended feminine interest, Emily found herself too soon ushered back into the sitting room with card tables and drinks. Aunt Agnes and Uncle Cecil were directing some of the older guests to card tables. Footmen came to offer after dinner drinks to them.
“I did not wish to neglect half of my guests,” the duke explained. It made sense, for he had no wife to entertain the feminine side of the party. Emily felt his eyes burning into her as he spoke, but when she looked up, she found that Henrietta had placed herself at the duke’s side and was attempting to engage him in conversation.
Emily wondered, not for the first time, if the lady had designs for the duke. So what if she did? It shouldn’t matter, Emily reminded herself. Alexander was certainly not the sort of husband that she expected to find.
She had Robert Hawthorne and several other suitors, if she wished, waiting for her back in London. The thought filled her with melancholy. None of them made her heart race like Alexander did. Still, she should not care what Henrietta might have to say to the duke.
The lady leaned into him and found occasion to settle her fingertips upon the duke’s forearm. Emily’s eyes were drawn to the scar on his hand and the thought of wrapping that same arm with Edmund’s shirt while his blood stained her fingers. She could still imagine the warmth of it. It seemed to have marked her.
Whatever was said could not be heard by Emily, but she did witness the duke nod in reply as Henrietta looked up at him with watery eyes.
Emily felt a sudden spate of anger, and realized that it was a stab of jealousy. She clenched her hands into fists and turned away. All her doubts of earlier in the tea shop came rushing back.
She should not feel so for the duke. It was unexpected. Years of friendship and memory were colored with a new aura of desire. Emily saw that she and Alexander always had an attachment for one another. If they had not been separated for so many years, such feeling might have grown into something more, but now, he had grown in a different direction. He was all sorts of wrong for her, she reminded herself.
He was far too adventurous. She wanted someone settled she told her galloping heart. Compared to Robert Hawthorne, Alexander fell short by leaps and bounds. Life with Alexander would never be steady. She would forever be out of sorts. It would be messy and upending. And absolutely wonderful.
No. Robert Hawthorne was the logical choice. She wanted stability and a rational man with a clear head who did what was expected. Alexander almost never did what was expected of him. The thought did not stop her from wanting him.
Emily need to get control of herself. She could not fly off in a fit of hysterics. She forced herself to breath normally.
At that point, Emily would have excused herself to the ladies retiring room, where a number of the ladies had gone, but she realized that Mr. Martin Eldridge had joined her, and was attempting to engage her in conversation. She found she could not extricate herself in a polite way.
She found herself an unwilling listener to Mr. Eldridge’s farming projections for the upcoming season. Although not a lord, he was a wealthy landowner. Her effort to remain engaged in the conversation led Emily to discover more about the local farming techniques than she had ever cared to know.
The conversation could have been most boring, but the man was so excited that it was hard to speak with him and not feel at least some of the fervor he extolled. It seemed that the man was quite accomplished.
He had increased the yield of his land quite spectacularly which had led to a windfall of sorts. The duke had employed Mr. Eldridge to manage some of his properties as well. Eldridge was happy to give the duke the help he needed. Where was the duke? Emily wondered suddenly. He had disappeared.
In fact, when she looked up again, both the duke and Henrietta were nowhere to be seen. An uncharitable thought flashed in her head, a recollection of his father’s shameless philandering. She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she ignored it. Instead, she attempted to turn her attention back to Mr. Eldridge.
At last, he motioned to one of the card tables where a couple of players were needed. Edmund and Anne were already seated at the table and needed a second team for whist.
“Shall we play?” Mr. Eldridge asked gesturing, and Emily agreed. She enjoyed cards and games. Although she did not consider herself an accomplished card player, she enjoyed a round of healthy competition, and the game would take her mind off of the duke. Edmund shifted over.
“Shall I be your partner?” Mr. Eldridge asked Emily or shall we play ladies against gentlemen?
“Oh do,” said Anne as she started to stand, but Edmund moved to take the seat across from Mr. Eldridge.
“Emily and I shall beat you soundly,” Anne promised.
The gentlemen seated the ladies and then play began. Several rounds passed without any serious care for the winner. Conversation was light and took no effort to maintain. Aft
er a time, Emily glanced around and still did not see the duke. It was his party. Where had he gone? With a start, she realized she did not see Henrietta either. In London, such a disappearance would be cause for instant gossip and censure.
“I do not see Miss Milford,” she commented.
“Is Miss Milford another friend of yours?” Mr. Eldridge asked Emily, and she lifted a shoulder.
“We were all friends as children, but have grown apart. I suppose we still do count as friends.”
“Of course we do,” Anne said throwing out a low trump card in the hopes that Emily would have the trick. Emily grinned and took the hand.
“Miss Henrietta Milford is even more beautiful than I remember her,” Mr. Eldridge commented throwing his last card into the center of the table in defeat.
“I say, man,” Edmund complained, “you must do better than that, or I shall take back my sister as partner.”
“You shall not,” Anne said.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Eldridge said. “I suppose my mind is not much on the game.”
“Shuffle,” Emily ordered her brother, pushing the pile of cards to him.
“How did you meet Miss Milford?” Emily asked Mr. Eldridge knowing he was not originally from the area.
“Oh, in Scotland” he said. “I have an aunt there and so does Miss Milford. When she moved back here, well, I decided to visit my southern cousins. I am considering the purchase of Hancock House and its surrounding properties.”
Emily blinked. Such action seemed to speak of an attachment. Was Mr. Eldridge enamored of Miss Milford?
He took a sip of wine. “It will depend upon a certain lady. Her manner seems much changed, though still beautiful.”
“A change in manner does not alter one’s features,” Edmund commented. “Miss Milford has always been beautiful.” He passed the cards to Anne to cut, who in turn passed them to Mr. Eldridge to deal.
“Of course it does,” Anne said.
“I have never done this pass around of the cards,” Mr. Eldridge said as he picked up the deck.
“Edmund cheats,” Anne said matter-of-factly and Mr. Eldridge paused in shook.
“I do not cheat,” Edmund said automatically, and then frowned.
Anne just stared at him.
“I was a child.” He amended finally.
“As I said, Edmund cheats.” Anne stuck by her words and Emily had to laugh.
“Also, a gentle manner does make a person more handsome,” Anne added. “It alters one’s opinion, if not appearance.”
“Yes,” Emily agreed. “A genteel manner can make one more pleasant to be around certainly.”
She glanced back at the table to her left where she had thought the blonde played previously, but Henrietta had not returned. A quick glance around the room confirmed that the duke had also not returned. She tried to focus on the cards for the next few rounds, but found she could not concentrate on her hand. Eventually she said in a teasing voice, “I seem to remember that Henrietta fancied you not so many years ago, Edmund.”
“Oh, no. I am afraid that was many, many years ago,” Edmund laughed. “She did always chase a title. Pray, I should not be the one to draw her eye, although I do think she aspires a bit higher.”
Mr. Eldridge dealt the cards. He gathered his hand and studied it much as the others did, but Emily watched the light go out of Mr. Eldridge’s eyes as he spoke. “Then, I am certain that I would not be capable of drawing her affection.”
“We should not make speculations,” Anne said, “when the lady is not here to disavow them.”
“Which lady?” Aunt Agnes asked as she and Uncle Cecil made a round about the room. Emily supposed the duke may have asked her to hostess for him.
“Henrietta,” Anne answered Aunt Agnes.
“Is Henrietta entertaining a beau?” Aunt Agnes questioned from behind Edmund’s chair.
“She has said nothing of it to me,” Emily replied with a shrug as she began the play. “We were shopping just the other day.”
“She mentioned something of the like. I believe that she wishes to keep it a secret,” Anne said following suit.
“What?” Emily said sending Anne a look. How had she kept this secret from her? It certainly seemed that Anne had indeed heard a rumor.
“Certainly something is secret,” Edmund said as he took the trick and played the next card.
Anne shrugged delicately. “Nobody seems to know for certain, but there have been whispers that Henrietta is to be wed by spring. The lucky groom, we have yet to discover.”
Emily held her cards suspended, shocked that Anne had not revealed this news to her.
Mr. Eldridge seems to sink into his chair as he took a generous swig of his drink. Emily thought that the gentleman may have feelings for the beautiful Henrietta, but if her desire for a title was true, as Emily thought it was, then the poor man did not stand a chance.
“It’s your play,” Edmund urged his partner, but Mr. Eldridge threw off and Anne took the trick.
“An intrigue!” Aunt Agnes cried. “I do love a good mystery at Christmastide.”
“Agnes,” Uncle Cecil said lightly. “Do leave the young people to their play.” They moved off toward the other guests.
“Perhaps you ladies might discover the truth of the matter,” Edmund prodded. “Miss Milford seems to have devoted herself to you Emily. In good confidence, she might tell.”
“That it would not be in good confidence,” Anne chided as she took another trick.
“No indeed,” Emily agreed. “Nor will I pressure her for reserved information. It is no business of ours.”
“Are you sharing secrets, Miss Ingram?” The duke appeared at the card tables so suddenly that Emily leapt in her seat with surprise.
“Not at all,” she replied with her chin held high as she followed the play of the cards.
14
Emily glanced around to see if they were being watched, but only Edmund and Anne were paying any attention at all. Two other card games were in session and the card group at the next table was laughing at Uncle Cecil’s tales of a dog that refused to hunt. The wine was flowing freely at all of the tables, and yet, Emily noticed that Alexander seemed not to have drunk to excess. He did, however, seem uncommonly close to her.
The table started to shift so that the duke could seat himself. “What a pity, for I was certain that you were full of secrets,” he teased Emily and then when realizing that he had disrupted the game, he held up a hand. “Oh no,” he said. “I do not wish to interrupt.”
“Shall we deal you in?” Edmund asked. “We can play something else.” Whist was a game for partners.
Alexander shook his head. “Finish the play.”
“Take my place,” Mr. Eldridge said. “I find I have lost my interest.”
He stood and the duke took his place. “If you are sure,” he said.
When Mr. Eldridge left, Anne said, “I wonder what that was all about.”
“I think he was quite done with secrets, as am I,” Emily said.
“Truly?” the duke said. “I seemed to remember that you liked an intrigue, most especially shared secrets.”
“Perhaps,” Emily replied in a low murmur only loud enough for the duke to hear, “you have made a poor practice of imagining things, Your Grace. Much time has passed since we shared secrets. Even then, they were childish things. We are beyond that now.”
“Well, more’s the pity then,” he said. “I remember some secrets quite fondly.”
Emily blushed. She remembered too.
Emily tried to return her attention to the card game but found that her mind would not stay on the hand.
“You could not get a secret from Emily for one thousand pounds,” Edmund commented as he dealt. “She never was one to share what goes on inside the head of hers. She is unflappable.”
That was certainly not how she felt at this moment.
Alexander narrowed his eyes as if considering her brother’s evaluation. “That is str
ange,” he finally added. “I have always found her rather expressive.” He paused and leaned close, his voice a low rumble in her ear. “If you wished, we could share secrets again. They no longer need to be limited to childish things.”
Emily blushed to the roots of her hair. Her face was aflame. How dare he tease her so! Why was he teasing her? It was fortunate that at that moment Edmund exclaimed as he claimed victory of the round.
With their table mates distracted, Emily gathered her wits and plastered a calm and cool expression on her face. Play came around to her again, and she looked at the mixed pile of cards in the center of the table. “What is trump?” she asked.
“Hearts,” Edmund said and Emily threw a heart without really looking.
Edmund cheered as he again took the trick.
“I want another partner,” Anne complained. “Emily is distracted.”
“I am not,” Emily protested.
“I shall gladly partner Miss Ingram,” the duke said. “With your permission?” He looked at Emily as he stood beside her
“As you wish, Your Grace,” she replied as stiffly as she could manage but the duke did not move.
“I wish you would not be so formal,” he muttered.
“It is your proper title,” she said.
“It is,” he agreed, “but you are using it to put distance between us.”
“There is distance between us,” she argued.
“I wish it were not so,” he replied.
The duke watched her for a long moment. Too long. Emily resisted the urge to shift under the uncomfortable weight of his gaze. She raised her chin higher and stared back with assurance. Alexander shifted his chair closer. She gave him a pointed look. He smiled at her. When had his eyes grown so very blue, or his teeth so even? Emily realized that the entire card game was suspended.
“I’m sorry,” Emily said, but Anne just looked at her with compassion and Edmund had a rather rueful look on his face.
“I make you nervous, why?” the duke said.
“You don’t,” Emily said.
The Duke's Winter Promise: A Christmas Regency Romance Page 11
