Christmas with the Duchess

by Tamara Lejeune

  “I shall treasure it,” he said. “I don’t know why I never thought of going to Plymouth myself and getting it back. I thought it was out of my hands forever, I suppose, rather like—”

  He broke off, and took a long drink from his glass.

  “Like what?” she asked curiously. “Remember, you are the Earl of Camford now. You sit in the House of Lords. You dine with princesses. Nothing should be out of your reach.”

  “Now you are teasing me,” he complained lightly.

  “Yes, for we cannot always be so serious.”

  Signaling for the course to be removed, Emma would have turned to converse with Augusta, who sat to the right of her, but Nicholas said quickly, “My aunt tells me you have offered to give me lessons.”

  Emma swung back to stare at him, wide-eyed. “What?” she managed to ask.

  “I accept,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Emma began to cough uncontrollably. Reaching for her glass, she hastily took a sip of wine. “Y-you accept?” she stuttered, still coughing. “What about Julia?” she croaked.

  “Julia?” Nicholas sighed. “Well, she’s always complaining about my inadequacies. This should make her happy.”

  “Excuse me,” Emma gasped, fleeing the room.

  Colin brought her a glass of water in the lounge. “What the devil is going on with you and Camford?” he demanded. “Are you taking turns making disgusting noises?”

  “Water!” she complained when she had drained the glass. “You bring me gin when I need water, and water when I need gin!”

  “Why should you need gin?” he demanded.

  “Because Anne has told Nicholas that I offered to give him lessons.”

  Colin snickered. “Joke’s on you, is it?”

  “Colin, he accepted! He wants me to give him lessons. He thinks it will make Julia happy!” she added sourly.

  “Don’t you want Julia to be happy?”

  “Not particularly. Are you suggesting that I give Nicholas lessons—in lovemaking?”

  “Well, I don’t think he wants lessons in flower arranging,” said Colin. “Anyway, you’re not that good at flower arranging. Shall we go back to dinner? Only four more courses.”

  “Fishbone,” Emma said, patting the hollow of her throat as she returned to the table.

  “Fishbones in the pheasant,” Lady Harriet remarked to Colin. “Perhaps Armand should commit suicide, after all.”

  “Are you all right?” Nicholas asked Emma.

  “Oh, yes, perfectly,” she assured him. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I didn’t think you’d be open to the idea.”

  “No, I want to learn,” he told her earnestly. “I just haven’t had the right teacher.”

  The skin at the back of Emma’s neck began to tingle. “And you think that I’m the right teacher?” she asked slowly.

  “If I can’t learn from the best, I don’t think I care to learn at all,” he replied. “And you’re the best, aren’t you? From what I hear.”

  “Well, you mustn’t believe everything you hear,” Emma told him modestly.

  “I’m sure you’ll be firm with me when I need it,” he said. “And forgiving and patient when I need it. Emma, I can think of no one I’d rather have for a teacher. Honestly.”

  Emma’s face felt hot. “That’s very flattering, Nicholas,” she said faintly. “I’m sure I must be blushing.”

  He laughed. “Shall we start tomorrow, then? I can meet you at the stables at, say, eight o’clock? Or is that too early?”

  “Stables?” Emma repeated blankly.

  “I shall have to find some riding clothes, too,” he said, “but I daresay it won’t be a problem. The servants are so efficient.”

  Abruptly, Emma’s vanity came crashing down to earth. “Riding clothes,” she said in a very small voice. “Yes, you will definitely need riding clothes for the riding lessons I’m going to be giving you starting tomorrow at eight o’clock at the stables.”

  Nicholas looked at her curiously. “Are you all right? I haven’t offended you, have I? Is this…Oh, God! You’re not still upset about the paperweight, are you?”

  “What paperweight?” Emma asked blankly.

  “The one Julia sent you for Christmas,” he answered.

  Emma smiled at him. Why, he had not changed at all, she realized. He was just as simple and sweet as he had been the day she met him.

  “No, Nicholas,” she told him warmly. “I’m not at all upset about the paperweight.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning, Emma’s maid woke her at seven o’clock. As a young girl, the duchess had been accustomed to rising early to go riding, even in winter, but, over the years she had gotten out of the habit. In fact, she was downright lazy. Nowadays, she usually did not get out of bed until at least ten o’clock, and seven o’clock was, to her, almost an ungodly hour. Her maid brought her a bowl of ice-cold water, into which Emma plunged her face, but, even so, by the time she was dressed, the invigorating effect had worn off. Like a sleepwalker, she trudged downstairs to the breakfast parlor for a steaming cup of strong black coffee.

  “Good morning, your grace,” Lady Anne greeted her from the table.

  “Good morning, Anne,” Emma replied, stifling a yawn.

  A gentleman in very tight riding breeches was filling his plate at the sideboard. At the sound of their voices, he turned around, and Emma saw that it was Nicholas, looking exceptionally well-groomed. Belatedly, she thought of her own toilette, which she had slept through for the most part. Her maid had put her in a beautifully tailored habit of brilliant peacock-blue superfine. She would just have to trust that her hair was in good order.

  “Good morning, my lord,” she greeted him, adding with approval, “I must say, you certainly look the part of an equestrian! That is an important first step, I have always thought.”

  He flushed slightly. “I have a valet now,” he explained. “He puts me together, ties my neckcloth, and all that sort of thing. He found these clothes for me. I fear the breeches are too tight.”

  Emma privately thought his riding clothes fit him very well indeed. The dark blue coat made his eyes look very blue, and the buckskin breeches molded the hard lines of his buttocks and thighs. “I shouldn’t worry about it too much,” she said. “The buckskin will move with you.”

  She sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Nicholas has been fattening up,” said Lady Anne. “No more hardtack biscuits!”

  “No,” Nicholas agreed ruefully, joining the ladies at the table. His plate was piled high with eggs and bacon. “Too many English breakfasts, I’m afraid. Too many rich dinners at the Admiralty Club.”

  “And fewer raw vegetables, I should think,” said Emma.

  “Oh, I still like my raw carrots,” he assured her. “Much to my cook’s dismay.”

  “I still recall how you prevailed on me last year to try it! I nearly broke a tooth.”

  Nicholas laughed. “Spoken like a true, namby-pamby, milk-and-water aristocrat.”

  As it was far too early in the morning to come up with a clever answer, Emma could only scowl at him.

  “Well, I think Nicholas looks very handsome,” Lady Anne said quickly. “I believe that is what we were talking about. I say it though I am his aunt. Last year, he was quite thin—like a scarecrow. The Royal Navy really had ought to feed its officers better! But Nicholas is much improved this year. Does your grace not agree?”

  “It is obvious he enjoys the attentions of a very good valet,” said Emma. “Perhaps all the credit should go to his servant. Your nephew could be a padded man for all we know.”

  “A padded man!” Nicholas said indignantly.

  Lady Anne quickly changed the subject. “Nicholas tells me that your grace is giving him a riding lesson this morning,” she said brightly, giving the words “riding lesson” undue emphasis. “How nice! What a wonderful surprise for Julia. And you need not worry,” she added, in the tone of a conspirator. “I’ll make
sure she doesn’t suspect a thing. They have all ridden out very early this morning to meet with the duke. They will not be back for hours and hours.”

  “All?” Emma echoed, frowning.

  “Yes, your grace. Princess Elke was interested in the hunt, so the Major offered to escort her to see the herd. Augusta would not be denied her share of sport, and Julia, of course, wanted to go, too. Mr. Palafox then persuaded Octavia. Even Flavia could not resist when she learned they were to bring a picnic lunch. So you need not fear that anyone will find out about your—your lesson,” she added, almost in a whisper. “Is that not fortuitous? It will be so much easier for Nicholas to learn the proper technique if the lesson is not interrupted.”

  Nicholas looked up from his food. “You’re behaving very strangely, Aunt.”

  “I am just happy, my lord,” Lady Anne answered. “With two daughters married, and a third engaged, I cannot help twittering! Only two left.”

  “Is it to be a London wedding?” Emma asked politely.

  “Mr. Palafox would have it so,” said Lady Anne. “Or, I should say, Mrs. Allen would have it so. It is to take place in March, at the height of the Season. Your grace will attend, of course?”

  “Of course,” said Emma. “We must give Mrs. Allen the full treatment! She should get her money’s worth, after all.”

  “They are to honeymoon in Italy,” said Lady Anne. “If the war does not start up again.”

  “It won’t, Aunt,” Nicholas assured her. “Napoleon is now the permanent guest of the Royal Navy at St. Helena. Elba was quite a different matter. If the Royal Navy had been in charge of him at Elba—”

  “And now we know what you talk about at the Admiralty Club,” Emma said.

  Nicholas pushed his empty plate away. “I suppose we are a rather predictable breed,” he said. “I should follow your grace’s example, and speak only when I have something amazing to say. But then people might mistake me for a wit.”

  “Oh! As they do me, I suppose!”

  His mouth twitched. “I have never heard you described as a wit, ma’am.”

  Again, Emma could think of no reply. Angrily, she took a bite of toast.

  Lady Anne again tried to rescue the conversation. “I do hope Mr. Palafox takes Wingate! Would it not be a wonderful thing for us to live so close to Warwick? Would your grace say the house is large enough for us all to live in harmony? We would not want to be too crowded.”

  “I would not care to spend even one night under that man’s roof,” Nicholas declared.

  “Poor Mr. Palafox! It is true that his aunt, Mrs. Allen, is a very coarse, vulgar woman,” Lady Anne replied, apparently misunderstanding the thrust of her nephew’s comment. “Perhaps we can persuade her to remain hidden in the attic, at least when anyone of quality visits us. She is a perfectly dreadful little woman,” she went on. “Why, she insisted on looking in Octavia’s mouth—as if she were a horse!”

  Nicholas blew out his breath. “Speaking of horses,” he said, rising from the table. “I believe I’ll make my way to the stables now. Please, madam, stay and finish your breakfast,” he added quickly as Emma set down her cup.

  “I am finished,” Emma said, leaving the table. “We may as well walk together.”

  “There is not the least need for you to worry if you are seen together,” Lady Anne assured them. “It’s not as though you’re doing anything wrong, after all. It’s just a lesson.”

  Emma took Nicholas’s arm. “Exactly so. It’s not as though we’re having an affair,” she said mischievously. “Nicholas is my pupil, and I am his teacher. That’s all.”

  “Good luck, Nicholas!” said Lady Anne. “Remember, the duchess is an expert in these matters. Be guided by her.”

  “I shall,” said Nicholas. “After all, we don’t want a repeat of last year.”

  “No, indeed,” said Emma, trying to keep a straight face.

  “I sometimes think my aunt has lost her wits,” Nicholas remarked when he and Emma were free of the house.

  The day was clear but rather cold, even in the sun. Emma shivered.

  “She was behaving even more dithery and nonsensical than usual,” Nicholas went on. “The way she was talking just now…it was almost as if she thought…”

  He stopped, biting his lip.

  “As if she thought what?” Emma prompted him.

  He glanced down at her. “As if she thought something really was going on between us.”

  Emma laughed. “Your aunt is a funny little creature.”

  “My aunt is a birdwit,” he grumbled. “Even so, I cannot imagine what she must have been thinking, saying ‘riding lesson’ in that suggestive tone! I was quite embarrassed. I do not have your ability to laugh off these things.”

  “Then perhaps I shouldn’t tell you just how much we have to laugh off,” Emma said.

  “What do you mean?” he demanded.

  “Your aunt doesn’t think I’m going to teach you how to ride. She thinks I’m going to teach you how to make love properly.”

  Nicholas came to a standstill. “What?”

  “To be fair, I did make the offer—all in jest, of course! But your poor aunt has no sense of humor, as you’ve probably noticed already. She took me quite seriously, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, I see,” he said, relaxing. “You’re joking me. Naturally, I did not take you seriously,” he went on. “Unlike my aunt, I do have a sense of humor. Small and ill defined, I admit, but it is there. It just needs exercise.” He laughed weakly.

  “Oh, but I wasn’t joking you, Nicholas,” Emma answered. “I was joking your aunt, but she took me seriously, so the joke is on me, I suppose. When you came back to the table last night, and told me you wanted to accept my offer of lessons—! I’ll admit I was quite flattered. However, you soon took me down a peg or two. You know, I can’t help but feel I’ve been cozened into giving you riding lessons.”

  “My aunt must be insane,” Nicholas said, beginning to stammer. “Emma, I apologize, of course. But what a thing to say, even if you were only joking!”

  “As you say, I am not known for my wit,” she said tartly. “Your aunt came to me. She’s very worried about you and Julia. I know that your marriage is in trouble,” she told him gently. “Nicholas, I did not seek the information, but now that I have it…Well, perhaps I can help you. I would like to help you, if I can.”

  He glanced back at the house. “She dared speak to you about my marriage?” he said angrily. “Then she is as brazen as she is bird-witted! She should mind her own bloody business! And so should you,” he added furiously.

  “You’re right, of course,” said Emma. “If I were you, I would be just as angry. Shall we walk on? Or would you rather go back to the house, and have nothing more to do with me?”

  “My aunt’s stupidity is not your fault,” he said, after a moment, and they began walking again. “I have always felt that I could talk to you, Emma,” he added awkwardly. “The very first day we met, I told you everything about me. How bored you must have been! I realize that now. But, at the time, I felt you were listening to me.”

  “Of course I listened to you,” she said. “And you were not so very boring,” she added lightly, hoping to raise a smile.

  Nicholas remained serious. “I never had such a friend, a woman friend. One doesn’t talk about one’s feelings with other men, you know. Not at sea. Not at the Admiralty Club. But I cannot burden you now. After all, what do you care of me and my life?”

  “I am still your friend, Nicholas,” she said quietly. “It’s true, I was not a very good friend to you last year. I was selfish, unkind, ungrateful, but let me make up for it now. Let me be your friend.”

  “This is not how I imagined our reunion,” he murmured. “I could strangle my aunt!”

  “Your aunt is worried about you, Nicholas. So am I. You have been married nearly a year, and Julia has not conceived.”

  “Of course,” he said grimly. “That is all they care about. Camford must have an heir! I a
m nothing but livestock to them.”

  “Yes; poor you,” Emma said sharply. “You have been given a title and a great fortune, scads of land, and the means to attain everything you could possibly want, and all you must do in return is father a child—with a very beautiful girl! Is it really so much to ask? It is our first duty as namby-pamby, milk-and-water aristocrats, you know,” she went on in a gentler tone. “We are very privileged people, Nicholas, but let us not forget the duties that go with the privileges. Right now, your duty is to make love to your wife…properly.”

  “What are you implying? I know how to make love properly. I don’t need any help in that area, thank you very much, madam!”

  “Could it be possible that you’re not as good as you think you are?”

  “What?” he said sharply.

  “Forgive me, Nicholas,” she said, “but I know your marriage is not as happy as you would have me believe. I know, for example, that Julia has banished you from her bed. I know you sleep in separate rooms.”

  He scowled. “Did Julia tell you that? That she has banished me from her bed?”

  “I have not spoken to Julia,” Emma said quickly. “Please don’t be angry with your wife. I’ve spoken only with her mother. I don’t want to pain you, Nicholas, but, apparently Julia is so unhappy that she is actually thinking of leaving you.”

  “My aunt told you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was this before or after you offered to teach me how to make love properly? Whatever the hell that means,” he added under his breath.

  “Well, there’s your problem. You don’t know what it means.”

  “Oh, but you’re going to teach me!”

  Emma sighed. “Nicholas, I know you’re angry—”

  “No, I’m not. I’m looking forward to it. Shall we strip naked here, or would you prefer we go into the bushes?”

  Emma frowned at him. “Sir, I have just told you that your wife of less than a year is contemplating desertion, if not divorce, and all you can do is make jokes? Julia literally cannot bear your touch. She described your lovemaking as if it were some sort of brutal attack. Based on my own experience of your—your technique, for lack of a better word, I can see how an inexperienced young girl might very easily find you appalling, even frightening!”