He opened one eye and glanced back at Emily.
Nothing.
He pursed his lips and prepared himself to accept the sign, or lack therefore, when it happened.
Anne, Emily’s fondest companion, made a slight movement that could hardly be seen by anyone save one who was paying close attention. Although her hands were still clasped in devotion, her elbow reached out and poked Emily in the ribs. Emily peered in question at her friend, who whispered some unheard words.
That was when he saw it. Emily bit her lip in an attempt to control her laughter, but from the shaking of her shoulders he could see that it would not hold. She hid behind her praying hands, but that too failed. Emily was forced to bow her head so low that none could see her face behind the bench ahead of her. In the silence of the church, one small snort of laughter rang out like a bell. Of course no one reacted, for they could not say from whence it had come. Only now, Anne and her sisters had also bowed their heads low. The entire row was shaking with silent laughter.
He watched them with a smile upon his face. There it was: the sign that he had needed and he thanked The Lord for it. Then he said an extra prayer for those who did not pay attention at Sunday service.
How long his attention had been focused on the ladies, he could not say. It must have been a decent while because he had not taken any notice that Edmund had awakened from his dozing and was watching him with shrewd eyes.
16
As the service finished, his friend leaned close. “You really are in love with her, aren’t you?” Edmund whispered so low that Alexander could have ignored it if he chose. There was no point in pretending that he did not know about whom his friend was speaking.
The duke remembered Edmund asking much the same the summer before Emily went away to finishing school. When he had shaken his head and denied it, his friend had poked him in the ribs, as Anne had done to Emily, and announced with more assurance, “You do. You love my sister.” The moment came back to him clear as the church bells ringing out through the town of Northwick as the service completed.
“How long have you suspected?” The duke asked with a slight bob of his head.
“Oh, ages,” Edmund admitted. “Since we were eight.”
The duke shook his head. “That is not possible. I have only just recently discovered it myself.”
“Well, it has been obvious to all others,” Edmund argued, as they lingered in the vestibule. “For both of you.”
“Both of us? Do you really think she returns my affection?”
“Emily?” Edmund scoffed. “She’ll fight it best she can, but I have no doubt. She has been taught to hate all fun and must be reminded of it quite stringently.”
“Has she made any mention of me?” The duke leaned closer with hope for an affirmation, and Edmund lowered his tone to keep the words from the gossipmongers.
“Not to my ears,” Edmund replied. “She never would. She is too determined that the most practical solution is to marry Robert Hawthorne or some other natter-headed fool from the Ton.”
“What!” the duke hissed. The vicar’s head and those of several parishioners swiveled their way and the duke waved a hand. “Just some unexpected news,” he explained and the parishioners went back to their conversations.
“That was my reaction,” Edmund agreed.
“She wouldn’t marry into the Hawthorne family,” the duke said with certainty. “The Albright family is related to the Firthleys.” The truth was her marrying into any family but his own was painful. “The man, and I use that word loosely, cannot even take a piss without his grandfather’s permission.”
Edmund chuckled. “My thoughts exactly. On the other hand Em might think Robert is used to taking orders.” Edmund gave a little shrug. “You know, she is bound to give them.”
The duke shook his head. He knew Emily was full of bluster. It was one of the things he liked about her. For the most part what she said made a lot of sense. For example, she would delegate and find a way to make the villagers work together. She would not dither and question. She would act.
He needed her by his side. She would be good for the duchy and more than that, she would be good for him. She always had been. The duke moved to exit the church, and put on his hat. He gave a quiet order to his driver. The carriages should be brought around shortly.
Edmund sighed. “I cannot believe it either, but Hawthorne does meet all of the qualities my mother desires.”
“Do those qualities involve being a spineless prat who…”
Several parishioners turned their way again. The duke lowered his voice, but could not control the fervor that had struck at the knowledge that Emily would give herself over to such an unsuitable match. She would be bored for the rest of her life; he was sure of it.
“She is determined to have a man who is proper, reliable, and good,” Edmund explained.
The duke sighed. “I can make no claim to be any of those things.”
“Of course you may,” Edmund argued slapping his friend on the back. “You have gone beyond what anyone expected for Bramblewood and you have only just begun. You take your responsibilities to heart, but you are allowed to have fun now and again. What is the fault in that?”
Alexander wanted to tell his friend that he had more faults than Edmund could possibly know, one in particular that seemed to always be hanging over his head and reappearing at inopportune moments. He kept the secret, as the agreement between his father and the baron had demanded, but the sin was his to bear.
More than anything he knew that he kept the secret because he did not wish word of it to reach Emily’s ears. Her good opinion of him would be lost forever. His conscience said that her good opinion should be lost. He was not a good man, no matter what Edmund thought.
“You are allowed to be lively so long as you steer clear of shame,” his friend continued, giving his full support to the idea of the duke pursuing his sister. “Emily needs to see that she can live too. You are not your father, Alexander. Never forget that.” Edmund shook a finger under his friend’s nose.
The duke smiled weakly. What if I am? He wondered silently. Edmund was ever refuting the rumor that had followed Alexander. He was a good friend. Alexander hoped the man’s trust in him was not misplaced.
The duke realized he would not only lose Emily if the truth came out; he would lose Edmund as his friend as well. Well, then. It must remain a secret.
“I thank you for your vote of confidence,” he said even though confidence was the last thing he felt. He watched Emily moving through the crowd in front of him. His friend’s hand on his shoulder gave him courage.
“I would never believe ill of you, and Emily would be daft if she did,” Edmund said with a firm nod. “One thing my sister is not, is daft. She is smart as a whip, that one. Now, the only question that remains is what are you going to do? I expected you yesterday.”
“I got caught up in estate business and could not get away. It was dark before I realized.”
“Emily will be going back to London at the end of the holiday. So I warn you, do not dally.”
The duke nodded just as the object of his interest glanced back to see her brother. Emily’s eyes connected with Alexander’s as if she had felt his gaze upon her.
Her deep amber eyes seared him. The duke felt a smoldering heat fill him and had to remind himself they were in church; only the vestibule, but still.
Before he could offer a smile or nod of acknowledgement, Emily turned away offering a greeting to the vicar. She hid from him once more, concealing herself within the crowd of parishioners as they moved out of the church.
The cold December wind struck him, though not so biting as Emily’s dismissal. He hated the distance between them, but he could not speak to her as he had once done. Everything he did seemed to drive her further away. He must find way to reach her and make her understand. He could not bear it if Emily’s eyes ever looked upon him with scorn as the servants had after Polly; the way the town had after Hen
rietta was sent away.
Please, I may not be a good man, but let her know that I love her and let that be enough. The duke made his final plea to heaven. Then he, like the others, proceeded out of the church.
17
On Monday, Emily and Aunt Agnes, along with William’s sisters Claire and Caroline were joined in town by the Albright sisters and their mother Lady Aldbrick.
Northwick was a booming town with several rows of shops and gathering places. Lady Aldbrick took her youngest daughter, Susanna to find trimmings for their Christmas gowns and promised to meet the other ladies back at the carriage before too long. Aunt Agnes kissed Emily upon the cheek. She went with Lady Aldbrick, ushering William’s young sisters away like a mother hen with her chicks.
The remaining three, Emily, Anne and Eliza giggled and clasped each other’s arms as they hurried off to a trinket shop to see what treasures might be found. Trudy’s Emporium was a perennial favorite. It always had interesting items. Mostly they were shipped from London, but Emily humored her friends. Anne and her sister, Eliza wanted to visit the shop.
Nonetheless, Emily found herself fascinated with the sheer volume bobbles and odds and ends that could be gathered in one place. She had to admit the emporium was a wonder. She conspired with Eliza to keep her sister busy and spent much more than she had intended on a pair of glass earrings that looked to have been made just for Anne. She tucked them away after purchase so that her friend might not suspect her gift.
When Emily returned to the sisters after her purchase was completed, Eliza was teasing Anne about a possible suitor, a gentleman Emily did not know.
She prayed that Eliza did not tease about the duke for she might not be able to hide her feelings from her best friend. Thankfully, Anne was distracted by her sister. Eliza, giving up on her game brought Anne’s attention to a chain and watch fob.
“Do you think Father will like this?” Eliza asked and Emily was saved from a failed attempt at acting coy.
Emily considered those gifts she still had to purchase. She thought of Henrietta. Emily was not a close friend of the lady since she had been away for so long, but she did not want to be embarrassed if Henrietta bought something for her. She purchased a silk scarf in cornflower blue that would set of her eyes and make her blonde hair shine.
“Also more sweetmeats for William’s sisters,” Emily added.
The young ladies walked down the street to the candy shop and were happy to get out of the wind and cold. They had to wait behind others buying treats. Then, they lingered a bit warming themselves after making their purchases and deciding where to go next.
The heady smell of peppermint and chocolate brought back memories of Christmases spent at Sandstowe. Emily remembered her own Christmas stocking filled with the sweets and sharing them before the fire with Edmund and with Alexander.
Anne popped a peppermint into her mouth and gave Emily a look of appraisal.
“What is it?” Emily asked.
“I could not say,” Anne shrugged slightly. “Something is different. You seem most distracted. Are you in love?”
Emily shook her head. “I had a letter from Robert Hawthorne yesterday,” she admitted.
“It is not Hawthorne that has distracted you,” Anne said with good humor. She offered Emily one of the peppermint sticks and then popped another in her own mouth.
“Don’t eat them all,” Eliza scolded.
The truth was Emily thought of the duke more with each passing day, and Robert Hawthorne less. She had pressed aside the notion of deeper feeling, but the letter from Robert Hawthorne the previous morning had confirmed her fears. She read the letter with dread rather than excitement. The London gentleman meant nothing to her; nor did any of the other London gents who could not hope to hold a candle to Alexander in her estimation. There was no comparison.
Emily had not spoken to the duke since the dinner at Bramblewood, but the more that she thought about it, the more that she had come to believe that he had meant his request to call upon her. Was it possible that his intention had been the beginnings of a real courtship?
She heard the bell as the door to the sweetshop opened, but Emily was so lost in her own thoughts that she had taken no notice of the duke’s approach until he was standing before her.
Her heart skipped a beat and she felt for sure that the pounding was audible. He watched her for a moment with a soft expression that she could not comprehend.
“Might I assume Mr. Danvers has made a new batch of peppermint sticks?” he asked softly as he eyed the queue of other customers.
“Yes,” Anne said. “We bought some for William’s sisters. In fact, I do not think I bought enough.”
“Not if you keep eating them,” Eliza admonished. The two of them moved back to the candy counter.
“As I remember, you liked chocolate better,” the duke said to Emily and she was sure she blushed.
“It is wonderful in a cup on a cold night,” she agreed.
He looked at her in that way he had, his mouth turned up slightly at the corners. She could almost hear the risqué turn of his thoughts, but he said nothing, only smiled.
Why on earth had she mentioned cold nights? She felt heat fill her face, only made worse by her perusal of his lips.
“Are you enjoying your visit to the country,” he asked at length.
“Very much,” she admitted with a contented sigh. “It has been far too long and I have missed it dearly.”
“Then, you did not stop visiting because you had grown tired of our monotonous existence?” His smile revealed that he had guessed it to be so and hoped her opinion to be otherwise.
“Not at all,” she explained. “Mother heard about the bout of influenza. Kate was ill and mother wanted to be sure that it was not catching, which of course, it was. Mother is most afraid of contagion.”
“That is no small fear,” he said. “It brought sadness to many this year past.”
Emily refused to be melancholy so close to Christmas. “Besides, Mother was too busy parading Edmund and I about the Ton.”
“You always did love London,” he said.
Emily nodded agreeing. “Mother had exclusive passes for the season. She managed to get us into Almacks and was determined to find us both settled according to her standard.”
“You have a suitor waiting in London for your return?” he asked. Something in his tone told her that he already knew the answer. Having always been so close to Edmund, she would not be surprised if her brother had spoken of it.
Emily hesitated with her reply. “Mother has two options that she has… encouraged me to consider.”
“Have you?”
She shrugged. “I suppose so, but my brother and I have both grown weary with her persistence.”
The duke reached out clasping her gloved hand for just a moment while Mr. Danvers went to find more candies for his customers.
Emily’s voice wavered. “Every season it is the same… balls, theater, parties, suitors…”
The duke released her. “But you like that,” he said.
“The balls, yes, but not the reason for them,” She hesitated. This was not a topic to discuss with a gentleman, especially in not so public a venue.
“Go on,” he urged.
Years ago he had been privy to all of her thoughts and worries. She had never felt so about anyone else she had met. It felt nice to share again. Everything came rushing out like water from a mountain stream.
“It is only, how can one make a decision about something so important as marriage when they barely know a person?” She lifted a shoulder. “Hundreds of people at a party and they all seem a blur, as if painted with one brush. The next day, there are a hundred more faces, ever changing, yet constant. It is as if I could close my eyes and choose at random and it would not matter.”
“It matters,” the duke said softly. Then he waited for her to continue, as if afraid that any further words might halt the open conversation.
She was forced to a
dmit that, since her return, she had shared with him less than she had used to do, and now, the moment stood before them, the aroma of chocolate and peppermint bringing back fond memories.
“Mother did not want us to come,” she blurted. “Father was at Lords when we left. The truth is it was only with great resignation that Mother and Father even allowed us to leave,” Emily admitted in a breath.
“I am glad you have come.”
“Edmund and I were given the holiday to rejuvenate our spirits with the promise that, upon our return, I shall delay no longer.”
“Then it is decided?” The duke asked when she did not continue.
“No,” Emily shook her head and took a breath, “but it will be.”
“You mean, Robert Hawthorne,” he said in a soft voice. She was not surprised that he had been made aware of the frontrunner of her London suitors, but she was surprised to discover the sadness that pulled across his features.
“He would be mother’s first choice,” she admitted, “but…”
“He is a sap,” the duke interrupted, his voice tight.
“You must not say so,” she began, but Alexander stopped and turned her toward him, taking both of her hands into his own and nearly pleading. “He hangs on his grandfather’s…well, apron strings, or whatever the male equivalent might be, as if he hopes that his grandfather might pass over his father in the entail, but that shall not be.”
“If I marry Hawthorne,” Emily began, and the duke interrupted again.
“I should never see you again.”
“I said that would be my mother’s first choice,” Emily repeated. “Not that I would accept it.”
The duke waited for her to continue. Emily spoke slowly, almost wonderingly, as if she had only just become aware of the fact.
“I do not love him.” She said the final words slowly to be sure that Alexander understood.
His hands tightened on hers.
Perhaps a few weeks ago she might not have said such things to him, but Robert was no longer an option, she knew that now and so must Alexander.
The Duke's Winter Promise: A Christmas Regency Romance Page 13
