Emily's Seduction

by Natasha Blackthorne

  What was the matter with him? He’d always admired her devotion to her business. She had keen business sense; she had simply lacked experience in the beginning. It had been his pleasure to help her but she didn’t need his help now.

  He tapped his fingers again.

  What the devil was he doing here? Yes, she’d invited him for tea and he’d put her off long enough. Cornelia was giving him grief over it. But, really—what the devil was he doing here?

  “Alex?”

  He started then stared into her irritated eyes. “Yes?”

  “I asked you a question.”

  He offered her a smile, turning the full force of his charm on her to ease her ire. “You’d best ask it again.”

  “I asked, what will you do now?”

  “I was thinking just now that I will probably go with the Sophia when she sails.”

  A mysterious feminine half smile curved Brigit’s mouth and she looked down and to the side. “Do you know, I had the most unshakable notion that you might have asked your little artist to marry you?”

  He felt his smile freeze . “Whatever made you think I would do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She took a sip of tea then set her cup back in the saucer with a clink. “It is just that you have always been so idealistic and…how to put it? So with your head in the clouds.”

  He chuckled. “Me?”

  She laughed, her dark blue eyes twinkling fondly. “Yes, you.”

  “I don’t think you have the right man.”

  “I am sure I do. Mr Alexander Dalton.” She laughed again and a slight blush tinged her cheeks. “Your cousin Mrs Hazelwood has been throwing me at your head for years now. I had long feared her over-zealousness in doing so would end our friendship.”

  “Why should that have been? I wouldn’t hold the actions of another against a friend.”

  “Yes, but you and I are so utterly unsuited. We should have driven each other mad within a fortnight. I never understood how she could think we would suit.” Brigit shrugged. “Still, when I thought you might make an offer to that little waif, it did tweak my pride a bit.”

  “Did it?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral, trying not to reveal that speaking of Emily gave him a pain in his chest.

  “Well, certainly. I mean, she is so very young, so obviously untried and…”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, she’s not quite… I mean, she’s not very attractive, is she?” She laughed softly, nervousness sounding beneath.

  He gave her a level stare. “Brigit—”

  “Oh, please, do not take me the wrong way. She’s very talented and seems quite kind. She’ll make someone a sweet wife but not a gentleman like you.”

  Anger heated his blood, which was foolish because Brigit was just a materialistic, vain and—all right, admit it—a shallow, grasping woman. Had he really kept company with women like Brigit and Maggie all this time? Yes, he had. In fact, he had preferred their shallow aspect because they could never penetrate under his skin and see into his hollow soul. Emily had seen him as he was and it had not been a pleasing thing.

  “Brigit, Miss Eliot is a beautiful young lady to my eyes.”

  Brigit’s lips compressed and she looked down at her teacup.

  He continued, “And she has many other excellent qualities. You are correct she would make any man a fine wife. But she’s too fine for a gentleman like me.”

  Brigit rolled her eyes. “That’s a ridiculous notion. She’d count herself lucky to win a gentleman of your calibre, any young woman in her position would. She’d jump at the chance. But, if you feel this way, I am surprised you haven’t offered for her. You and she are so alike.”

  “So you’ve already said. But you’re wrong—we are very different.”

  She shook her head. “Alex, I saw how you looked when you first told me that the Senate had passed the Naval Bill. You looked more alive than you have in ages. Now that this fight is over, I can only wonder what you shall do with yourself.”

  “I told you, I plan to sail with the Sophia.”

  “It won’t make you happy. You always come home from these voyages more restless than when you left. They simply distract you, they mark time. You need something real in your life, something idealistic to strive for. This is why we should never have suited.”

  “How can you have known me all this time and yet held to such a false opinion of me?”

  “How can you not know yourself? I think you had better marry your funny-looking little idealist before she gets away from you.”

  * * * *

  At home, in his study that evening, Alex couldn’t find peace. Brigit’s words kept haunting him.

  He took a deep drink of Scotch and let the burn slide down his throat. Yes, it had exhilarated him the moment he’d heard that the Senate had passed the Naval Bill. All that remained was for Washington to sign it. Surely he would. There was a provision in the Bill that, if the United States made peace with the Barbary pirates, then the Navy wouldn’t be sought. But what chance was there of peace now?

  The country would finally have the standing Navy it needed to be safe against not only rogue pirate nations but also the twin depredations of both the French and the British. The United States could become a force to be reckoned with. And knowing that did give him a powerful sense of satisfaction. Of having played a small part in such an accomplishment.

  This was all Emily wanted. She was a woman, denied a public life in which to satisfy those needs. So she did so through her art. And his selfish desire to hold her to himself, his need to protect her at all costs, even against her own desires, had stifled her free expression.

  It had been wrong. She wasn’t like other women. She would always need more from life.

  She’d been correct to hold him in contempt for that.

  Suddenly it came to him what he must do.

  * * * *

  “Excuse me, Miss Eliot.”

  Emily looked up from the book that she had been reading to Mrs Hazelwood as the old woman embroidered a pillowcase and focused her attention on the maid, Sally, who stood in the doorway of the parlour.

  “There’s someone here to see you,” Sally said. “Mrs Daily.”

  Emily didn’t know anyone named Daily. She looked to Mrs Hazelwood.

  Mrs Hazelwood smiled. “Well, go on then, have your visit.” She turned to Sally. “You may tell Miss Eliot’s visitor to wait in the kitchen for her.”

  Emily went to the mirror in the stairwell and smoothed her hair. Who could possibly be coming to see her? She followed the aroma of baking bread into the kitchen. The cook and her two granddaughters were seated at one end of the large wooden table, chopping carrots and peeling potatoes. They were casting furtive, curious glances at the other end of the table where a tall, thin woman sat. She was dressed in a light grey gown with a simple white chemise-tucker. Her large hazel eyes were intelligent and lit with warmth as Emily approached.

  “Miss Eliot?”

  “Yes,” Emily replied.

  She smiled and stood. “Do you think we could take a walk in the garden? It is such a lovely day. I do believe April is in the air.”

  Emily nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  She led the way and they stepped out into the mild, sunny spring afternoon. The lady was correct; the smell of April was definitely in the air. They walked to the roses where several stone benches were and they sat on one.

  “Mr Dalton sent me here.”

  “Yes, of course,” Emily said, nodding as if she understood. She didn’t. She forced herself to be calm but her palms had started to sweat. What was going on now?

  “He tells me you wish to compose a book of sketches and personal accounts about America’s slaves, now escaped from their bondage. Something like the book you made for the victims of the Barbary pirates.”

  “Yes, I want to very much.”

  The woman smiled broadly. “I think it is a grand idea and I want to help you. I know many such individuals in t
he area. We can pick the best stories to illustrate our cause then you may use your talents to bring them to life.”

  “Our cause?” Emily repeated dumbly.

  The shock still hadn’t faded. Alex had sent this woman here? He wanted to help her with her book? Had he changed his mind about her use of her talents to showcase the issue of slavery? He must have. Goodness. He had. What did it mean for them? Did they have a future now?

  Her head spun with all the questions.

  “Yes, our cause. Complete abolition of slavery in this country.”

  Emily turned her attention back to the lady in the plain grey dress. “Oh,” she said in wonder. “Yes.”

  “It will be slow going, you must understand. It was hard enough to get the laws passed so far. The Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery here in Pennsylvania that frees those born to slave parents from here on out. The total freeing of the slaves in Massachusetts. Our next move is to make the importation of slaves into this country illegal. Things move so slowly. But every cause has to have a beginning. Do you want to be a part of that beginning, knowing that it will be a long fight, that we may not see our goals completed in our lifetime? You may very well face negative social consequences.”

  Emily didn’t need to think about it. Yes, it had been exciting that the Naval Act had been passed. She supposed Alex had brought her around to seeing that a National Navy was the only way to make the seas safe. But, still, it wouldn’t end the slavery in Barbary for other nations, would it? Not unless the United States went over there and levelled the Barbary nations, and given the fledgeling state of matters that didn’t really seem possible.

  And slavery still thrived in America, where men were supposed to be free no matter their birth. All persons equal under their creator.

  No, she didn’t need to think about it. She could give her answer this moment and with a glad heart, too.

  “Yes, I am willing.”

  * * * *

  Restlessness made Alex’s legs ache as he stood by the doorway to the ballroom, which was really the two parlours with the dividing wall pushed back for the evening. His face ached with the need to smile at the arriving guests. James was holding a ball in celebration of the passage of the Naval Act.

  This was really James’ victory. He had worked tirelessly to campaign for this. He was the politician of the family. He wanted to eventually sit on the highest court in the land and have a hand in the laws passed. He was only thirty-five. Maybe he would.

  But for Alex, the whole business was over. He’d pledged himself for the duration and now he was free. So why didn’t he feel relieved?

  Finally the number of guests slowed to a trickle. Sadness began to take the edge off his restlessness. Emily had been invited and he had hoped to see her here. Yet she hadn’t shown. Had he simply missed her, been distracted when she arrived? He glanced over the ballroom, scanning the myriad splashes of colour that were ladies’ evening gowns and he didn’t see any lady so slender and girlish with dark hair that lit up like flames under the candlelight.

  “Well, my friend, you have your victory. Soon the whole world will be safe from the scourge of pirates. Your American navy will defeat them all.” Nicolo’s voice rang with sarcasm.

  Alex turned to him with a grin. “You cynic. You could turn any victory into a defeat.”

  “Ah, it is just my way.” Nicolo leaned against the wall and began to rate the ladies present based on their charms. The drone of his voice lulled Alex. He wasn’t interested in examining the ladies. “Are you ill, Alex?”

  “No,” Alex replied with distance in his voice.

  “Ah, you miss your little Emily. But you have sent her away because you cannot bear her pity.”

  “Yes, that’s the whole of it.”

  “And are you so sure it is pity she feels?”

  “What else could she feel? You said it yourself the other day.”

  Nicolo waved him off. “What do I know about women? Look at my past.” He raised his eyebrows. “And you want to take my advice on women? I was feeling very low the other day, Alex. You should not allow me to influence you.”

  “Nothing can change things anyway.”

  “But that’s not true. You told her. You did something I have never been able to bring myself to do. She knows, and now no dark secrets remain between you. That’s remarkable, don’t you think?”

  “Remarkable yes. But not in a good way.”

  “Bah, it is good or bad depending on how you choose to respond now.” Nicolo touched his own chin. “After you liberated us from that terrible place, I never thought to see you become a coward again.”

  “A coward?”

  “Yes, you are a coward. If you will not brave the chance to have this open, honest marriage with this young woman then yes, you are a great coward.”

  “That’s a pretty strong judgement coming from a man who has abandoned three wives.”

  Nicolo shrugged. “We are not talking about me. We are talking about you and I have always held you to a higher standard. But think what might happen to your idealistic little beauty if you go away on your ship and leave her all alone.” Nicolo reached and patted Alex’s hand. “I think I shall leave you with your thoughts now, my friend, for that sloe-eyed beauty across the way beckons me. I cannot resist.”

  He walked away.

  Alex strode over to a servant and procured a glass of Madeira. Nicolo’s words echoed in his head. What might happen to Emily if he did walk out of her life as he had planned? He loved her with every fibre of his being; maybe no other man would be as devoted or caring. He was going to have to settle his accounts with the past or else lose her forever and the cost to her might be the worst of all. Men like Peter would pay court to her and she might well be fooled by their initial kindness and charm. He loved his cousin but he knew Peter to be a faithless, weak man. So how was that different from himself? Well, the difference was his level of commitment and devotion to both Emily and the institution of marriage. He was not Peter and he was not Nicolo.

  The last thought came up so vehemently it shocked him. No, he was not cut of the same cloth , or else he should have married for convenience earlier and already started a family while still having his voyages and his mistresses.

  But he hadn’t done that. He’d waited until he had known he’d found the right woman. The memory of that first night with Emily hit him sharp and clear. He’d begun to know then, even in those first hours, the joy of being in her presence. It had been something deeper than lust or even the human comfort of a warm body beneath his. And the feeling had only deepened the more time he’d spent with her.

  He had let his niggling doubts chip away at that. Allowed himself to forget the utter certainty of his love. In letting his doubts and fears have their way, he’d been just as lost and selfish—and just as destructive as Nicolo’s actions tonight.

  All right, maybe Emily had a point that he’d been too young to cope fully with what had happened to him. Maybe self-blame had been with him so long he was simply afraid to let it go. Maybe it was a way of trying to hold on to some power over something that had always been out of his control.

  He couldn’t change the past but he certainly could control the future.

  But wasn’t it all too late? Emily held him in contempt for his actions and the things he had said in the past few weeks and rightfully so. He’d given her no reason to do otherwise. He’d been selfish and arrogant and blind. Why should she take a chance on him now? They were done. It was just too late.

  * * * *

  “Good evening, Miss Emily.”

  Emily smiled at Cato. “Good evening to you as well, Cato.”

  She entered the Dalton house, amazed at the transformation of the darkened entryway lit by so many candles in the chandeliers above. The rich scent of jasmine and beeswax filled the air, mingling with and threatening to overpower the normal citrus and spice scent. The parlours that were open on to each other to make a ballroom were crowded with people. She glanced ba
ck at Cato.

  “Where is Mr Dalton?”

  Cato raised his eyebrows. “You mean Mr Alexander?”

  “Yes.”

  He took her pelisse. “Mr Alexander is over there by the refreshments.” He smiled at her, his teeth still strong and white for someone so elderly.

  “Thank you, Cato.”

  She’d been determined to come tonight and thank Alex for his support in her work. But, now that she was here, her resolve faltered. What if he didn’t wish to see her? The invitation for the ball had come in Rachel’s handwriting. Maybe Alex didn’t even know she was to come. Her palms began to sweat and her stomach knotted. She took a deep breath and went walking into the ballroom.

  His back was to her but she recognised Alex immediately from his height and his golden hair shining in the candlelight. She paused as butterflies fluttered around her navel. The urge to just leave now and not have to face his possible rejection was strong. She could just send him a polite note to thank him. That was likely how all sophisticated former lovers did it. Well, she wasn’t very sophisticated. She had to know if there was any chance things might have changed. That they might have a future now.

  She walked the remaining steps to where he stood. With her mouth gone dry,she swallowed and forced herself to speak. “Alex?”

  She waited. He didn’t turn. The music from the quartet and the laughing, chatting crowd was too loud. She put her gloved hand to his wool-covered back, between his broad shoulders.

  He turned, his eyes fixing on her with piercing effect.

  Chapter Eleven

  Then his expression softened. “Emily.”

  His gaze moved over her. What did he see? A thin girl with an oversized nose and a too-wide mouth dressed in an elegant high-waisted gown of dark green velvet. She could never do such a garment justice. There were countless women here tonight of higher birth who possessed greater beauty than she could ever hope for. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her throat.