Delighted by the Duke

by Amanda Mariel

  Opening her eyes, Emma resolved to be as much like a mother to Lady Sophia as her position would allow. She drew a deep breath knowing she would never be able to erase the girls hurt, but perhaps she could ease it a bit. Regardless, she would do all she could.

  The door to Sophia’s room pushed opened, the duke stepping out into the hall.

  Emma jumped, her heart skipping a beat. Drat! She’d been so distracted in her thoughts that she’d not heard the duke’s footfalls. “I did not mean to eavesdrop. It is just…well I was—” Good heaven’s her face burned.

  “She is young and knows not what she says.” He averted his gaze to the plush carpeting they stood upon.

  “Do accept my apologies. It was not my intent to spy on your private moment.” She started down the hall, wishing she could sink into the carpet and disappear.

  He reached for her, capturing her elbow. “I do not wish for there to be awkwardness between us.”

  Emma met his stare, offering a warm smile. “Lady Sophia is a lovely child. Any woman should be pleased to call her their daughter.”

  Before she could react, his Grace pulled her against him, brining their lips together.

  Her stomach fluttered as passion spread through her. When his tongue met hers, she melted in his arms, giving herself fully.

  He eased back, breaking their kiss but not releasing her.

  Emma’s heart beat in a rough staccato, every bit of her fighting a craving the likes of which she’d never experienced. She licked her lower lip, staring at him. Waiting to discover what he would do next.

  “We must talk.” He released her and proffered an arm.

  Not what she had wanted nor expected, she hid her disappointment by glancing down the hall. She arrived in his private parlor with her heart still pounding, and lowered herself onto a wingback chair.

  He sat opposite her then leaned forward and took her hands in his. The heat between them threatened to turn her into ash as she waiting for him to speak.

  “It does not escape me that I know almost nothing about you. Most concerning, I do not know how you came to be hiding in my coach.” He stared at her with sympathetic eyes. “You can trust me, Emma.”

  Her eyes widened at the use of her given name and she attempted to pull back her hands.

  He held on, rubbing small circles on the backs of her hands with the pads of his thumbs. “It is my wish to protect you. However, I cannot do so if I do not understand the danger you are in.”

  The more he talked, the harder she found it to breath. Dare she tell him her secret? What if she did and he cast her out? She never should have hid in that blasted carriage. Now she cared deeply for Lady Sophia and could not deny an attachment to the duke as well. If he sent her away it would bring more heartache for Lady Sophia and it would be all Emma’s fault.

  “Trust me.” He smiled, fine lines forming at the edges of his eyes.

  Emma inhaled then let her breath out slow. “I told you about my father abandoning me and my aunt’s passing.”

  He nodded, continuing to rub her hands, to reassure her with his gaze.

  “What I did not share with you was that my uncle is deep in debt.”

  Rap, rap, rap.

  Irritation clouded the duke’s warm gaze as he let go of her hands. “Hold your thought. I will get rid of whoever it is.”

  She released a breath, grateful for the interruption, then averted her gaze to the closed door.

  “Enter,” the duke said.

  A maid opened the door, sticking her head into the room. “Lady Sophia asked for you, my lord. She is restless and a bit out of sorts.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes for a moment, then stood.

  The woman shrank back into the hall, closing the door in her wake.

  The duke leveled his gaze on Emma. “I must go to her.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  He stepped closer and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You have leave to call me Aaron.”

  She angled her head to look at him. “Aaron.” His name left her lips barley a whisper, and though she’d never spoken it before, it felt comfortable on her tongue.

  . “We will finish this conversation on the marrow.” He patted her shoulder before moving toward the door.

  She sank back against the chair as she watched him take his leave of the parlor. What would he think of her once he knew her secret? What would he do? She closed her eyes, pushing away the worry. There would be time enough for that tomorrow.

  Aaron strode down the hallway toward Sophia’s room, his mind racing. He adored his daughter, but bloody hell parenting was hard work. He had to discover Emma’s past in order to protect not only her, but also Sophia—and himself. Each day that past without him knowing how she came o be hidden in his coach presented more danger to them all.

  Emma had told him her uncle was destitute. Worse, he was deep in debt. Had she hid in his carriage hoping to somehow entrap or swindle him? Perhaps the passion in her kisses was a farce meant to bring him to heal.

  No. She’d not have told him about her uncle’s debt if she had meant to swindle or trap him in order to pay the accounts. But what then? He massaged the back of his neck as he continued along the hall. Perhaps she truly sought a paid position so that she might be able to help the man who raised her?

  Turning the corner leading to Sophia’s bedchamber, he hurried his pace. Hiding in his carriage would be an odd way to go about securing a job, however the idea held more merit than his previous pondering.

  After all, a destitute woman would not be able to hire a carriage of any kind. Even a mail coach would be above her means. Regardless, he did not believe such a compassionate woman capable of taking advantage of him—and certainly not of Sophia.

  Reaching the room, he stepped in and went to Sophia’s side. “What is the matter, Poppet?” he asked.

  She sniffled, wiping away a tear. “I’m lonely. Will you stay with me for a while, Daddy?”

  “Of course.” He settled into the pink and grey brocade chair beside her bed. “Now close your eyes, darling.”

  She fluttered her long golden lashes. “Thank you.”

  He reached out to stroke her hair. “Go to sleep. I will stay right here. You have my word.”

  She rubbed the corner of her blanket between her tiny fingers. “As a gentleman?”

  “Yes, as a gentleman.” Her eyes closed as he continued to smooth the hair on the top of her head. He sighed, releasing the stress of his day as he watched her relax, his own eyes growing heavy.

  Sometime later, Aaron woke to bright rays of sunshine streaming through sheer pink curtains. Somehow he’d managed to sleep the entire night in Sophia’s chair. He straightened stretching his stiff muscles, then glanced at her empty bed before peering out the window at the suns orb well above the horizon. It must be after breakfast time.

  Pushing his tasseled hair into place, he left the room in search of Sophia. He peaked into the playroom, family parlor, and school room before coming upon Sophia’s nanny in a corridor. “Where has Lady Sophia gotten off to this morning?”

  The nanny dipped into a curtsy. “She is in the kitchen with Miss Baxter, Your Grace.”

  He offered a nod then made his way toward the kitchen. Sophia had never been in that particular room before and he could not imagine why she was now—not that it bothered him. He was merely curious.

  Sophia’s sweet chatter greeted his ears before she came into view. He stopped to watch her and Miss Emma as they stood behind a counter, both wearing aprons, their faces marked with streaks of white flour.

  “Now add three eggs,” Emma instructed.

  Sophia reached for one large brown egg before tapping it against the metal bowl and dropping its slimy contents into the bowls depth. “One.” She reached for another, repeating the process. “Two.” Then again. “Three.” She looked at Emma, her nose wrinkled in consternation. “I still see a solid.”

  “Patients, Princess. Add a cup of water
to the mix.”

  Sophia did as instructed before turning her gaze back on Emma. “The liquid is mostly sitting on top of the solid now.”

  “Indeed it is. Give it a stir.” Emma handed Sophia a whisk.

  Sophia stuck the mettle mixing instrument into the bowl and gave a stir splashing liquid over the sides. She bit her lower lip, turning to Emma.

  “Worry not.” Emma stepped behind Sophia covering her hand with her own and guiding Sophia’s movements. “Mixing is a tricky science. I often splash the contents around myself. There now, you are doing wonderfully.”

  Aaron observed as Sophia’s eyes rounded, her smile magnifying. “I did it, Miss Baxter! The whole thing is a liquid.”

  “Indeed you did. You’re a marvelous kitchen scientist.” Emma removed her hand from Sophia’s and stepped back beside her. “Are you ready to observe what happens when we heat the batter?”

  Aaron stared in wonderment at Emma’s teaching techniques. He’d never seen a governess or tutor of any kind utilize such methods. And what fun Sophia appeared to be having. It was no wonder she picked up on Emma’s lessons so easily when the woman made learning fun and interesting.

  “Yes. And I have a theory. A hypothesis that is.” Sophia sat the whisk on the counter. “It will become a solid.”

  “What a smart little lady you are.” Emma slid a baking dish closer to the bowl.

  Pride spread through him at his daughter’s wit and accomplishment. At the same time his heart warmed further in regard to Emma. Every time he witnessed her with his daughter more of the thick veneer surrounding his heart chipped away.

  Sophia grinned, mischief glinting in her eyes. “No, I have merely eaten lots of cake.”

  Emma laughed. “And you shall eat more soon.”

  Fighting his own laughter, Aaron cleared his throat as he walked further into the kitchen. “What is this I hear about cake?”

  “Daddy!” Sophia wiped her flour covered hands on her apron. “The cake was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “Then I will remove myself and pretend as though I never came upon you.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead before offering Emma a grin.

  “Go now. Hurry, for if you stay too long you may not be able to forget.” Sophia waved toward the door.

  With a chuckle, Aaron did he bidding leaving them to their lesson. His conversation with Emma would have to wait for later. There was nothing for it.

  Chapter 6

  Emma stepped into the foyer, started at the sight of the men standing just inside, then froze. Uncle Silas and Lord Windham stared back at her. How had they found her? What would they do? Good God, she’d not told Aaron the whole truth, yet. Her heart somersaulted. Now there would be no time.

  Before she could determine what to do, Uncle Silas stepped forward and took hold of her arm and yanked her toward the door. “You have had your fun. Now it is time you do your duty.”

  Emma pulled her arm back, attempting to gain her freedom. “Release me.” She turned defiant eyes on him. “Let go, or I’ll scream. I swear I will.”

  “I could not care less if you do. I am your guardian and you are betrothed to Windham. You belong to us.” He said, his tone low, dangerous.

  She shrank back like a cornered animal, digging her heals in as he pulled her toward the door. “No. You can’t—”

  “Shut your stupid mouth before we shut it for you.” Lord Windham took her other arm, helping Uncle Silas to propel her toward the door while Aaron’s butler watched with wide eyes.

  Knowing not what else to do, Emma released a blood curtailing scream. Perhaps Aaron would not save her, maybe he would not, but she had to try. She could not allow Uncle Silas to take her and marry her to Windham without a fight. Now mere feet from the door, she screamed again, so loud that it made her ears ring.

  Uncle Silas slapped his hand over her mouth, tugging her harder.

  Her heart beat so hard she feared it might explode causing her to perish on the spot. A fate she’d prefer over becoming Lord Windham’s wife. “Do not let them take me,” she yelled at the butler, desperation plain in her voice.

  The butler found his courage and slammed the door shut, stepping in front of it. “I am afraid you will have to speak with His Grace before you are allowed to remove Miss Baxter.”

  Lord Windham let go of her only to grab the butler by his lapels, pushing him against the door. “You do not give me orders.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Aaron stepped into view.

  She moved her gaze to the floor boards when he moved to stand in front of them, his face all hard lines and anger, though she recognized a flicker of betrayal glinting in his eyes.

  He ripped Uncle Silas’s hands from her, turning the man to face him. “Explain yourself.”

  Uncle Silas squared his shoulders, notched his chin. “Miss Baxter is my niece and I am her guardian. Further, she is betrothed to Lord Windham. I have every right to take her back and enforce the contract we signed.”

  Aaron met Emma’s gaze causing her heart to tumble.

  She stared back, her lower lip quivering, hands shaking. “Please.” It was all she could do to speak the word to him and she desperately hopped it was enough to persuade him.

  He turned back to Uncle Silas. “I am afraid you have it all wrong. Emma belongs to me now.”

  Lord Windham came forward, his face flaming red. “That is impossible.”

  Aaron strolled over to her with long confident strides then put a secure arm around her. “We are wed.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Lord Windham sputtered, looking to Uncle Silas. “He is lying.”

  “Afraid not old chap. We were married under special license from the Arch Bishop of Canterbury himself.”

  Lord Windham pulled back his fist. “You lying son of a bitch.”

  Aaron released Emma catching Lord Windham’s fist in his hand. He squeezed it as he walked the man toward the door. “You have over stayed your welcome.”

  The butler opened the large oak door and Aaron propelled Lord Windham through it before turning to Uncle Silas. “Will you be kind enough to remove yourself, or shall I do it for you?”

  Uncle Silas hastily took his exit. The butler slamming the door in his wake.

  “Thank you.” Emma raced to Aaron’s side. “You have done me a great service.”

  He turned to her, his eyes still clouded with anger and betrayal.

  Her heart hitched at the knowledge she had caused his upset. “I will leave at once.” She fought the tears rising in her eyes as she started toward the stairs.

  “Wait.”

  Emma glanced back at Aaron, her pulse pounding.

  “It is not my wish for you to leave.” He closed his eyes. “Leastwise not yet.”

  She nodded, a tiny flicker of hope sparking within her.

  He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her through a nearby door into the public receiving room.

  She lowered herself onto a settee and turned her attention to him. Waiting with bated breath. Desperately hoping for something she could not herself imagine.

  He paced back and forth several times before coming to a stop in front of her. Staring down at her, he said, “I want to hear the whole story.”

  Emma released a breath before starting. Her words coming out in a rush, recounting everything from the day she went to live with her aunt and uncle until the day she’d hidden in his carriage. “I had nowhere to go and no money for which to care for myself. It was a hasty decision to stow away in your coach, but I did not have any other option. Uncle Silas was searching for me. I could hear him calling and his footfalls approaching. I did not think, just reacted.” She held his gaze praying he would understand. “Please forgive me for not telling you sooner, and for bringing trouble to your threshold. I never meant to cause any harm.”

  Aaron rubbed the back of his neck n the way she’d come to know meant he was thinking, then shook his head.

  “I did not mean to hurt anyone. I swear i
t.” She pressed her lips together to stop herself from speaking further. She owed him her silence and the chance to process all that had happened.

  He released a deep breath, dropping his hand from his neck. “I believe you and I do not assign any blame on you. What your uncle has done is unconscionable.” He began to pace again. “But what are we to do about it now?”

  She had no answer. Emma counted his steps in an effort to distract herself. One, two, three…eleven, twelve… Oh, what would become of her?

  He pinned her beneath his stare. “You know they will return. And soon, I’ll wager.” He resumed his pacing.

  “That is precisely why I must leave right away.” Emma stood prepared to go at once.

  “No. That is why we must wed.”

  Her eyes rounded. What? How? Did it even matter? Her mind spun. She placed her hand on his chest, stopping his pacing to stare into his eyes. “You wish to marry me?”

  “Yes, right away. It is the only way to rescue you from their clutches.”

  She dropped her hand from his chest, instantly missing the warmth that had passed between them. “I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself on my behalf.”

  “It is not a sacrifice. I am fond of you. Attracted to you even. And so is Sophia...that is, fond of you, Emma. She needs a mother. I can think of no-one better suited to the role than you.”

  Emma turned the words over in her head. She did experience an undeniable pull toward him every time they found themselves together, and would never try to deny her love for Sophia, but was that enough? If she allowed him to wed her, would he be happy? Or would he soon grow to resent her?

  Would a husband who detested her be any better than one who abused her? One who only wished to posses her so he could indulge his lust?

  “I will go to the Arch Bishop at once.” He strolled toward the door.

  She watched, her head spinning. He could be her salvation. The answer to her prayers. “No. Stop.”