A Dashing Duke for Emily_A Historical Regency Romance Novel

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A Dashing Duke for Emily_A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 19

by Hanna Hamilton


  “Is it quite safe or proper for a young lady to walk unaccompanied early in the morning?” he asked.

  “Oh no. I walk with my friend, Fanny, who also is an early riser.”

  “If I were in London I would love to walk with you.”

  “And that would be most welcome,” she said, shooting him a sideways glance and felt as if she was blushing.

  Mark was unsure, but he could not help himself, and he reached over without looking at her and gently took her hand. She, too, did not respond with a look but allowed her hand to be taken.

  When they returned near the house, Emily reluctantly removed her hand and asked, “What time is the meeting with the gentlemen?”

  “Ten o’clock in my study. Is that convenient for you?”

  “Most certainly.”

  “Then, if you will excuse me, I have a brief bit of business to attend to in the stable. Enjoy your breakfast. Good morning.” He tipped his hat and left Emily by the entranceway.

  Later that morning, Sophie sat at the breakfast table in the dining room reading. As she was a late riser, most of the other guests had already breakfasted, and the morning activities were well underway in the rest of the house.

  A number of guests had arranged for a trap shooting party and a number of others were to ride or explore the extensive property. Those less actively inclined tended to gravitate to the sunny lounge porch where tea was always being served, and a number of guests collected to read, play chess, cards, or to snooze in the sun with a blanket thrown over their laps.

  Sophie was engrossed in a gothic novel and munching on a crumpet when Mark came passing through, on his way to another errand.

  “Good morning, Sophie,” he greeted. “Are you enjoying your stay?”

  She looked up at him blankly. “More or less. The dinner last evening was enjoyable, and I had a stimulating conversation with the son of the new Viceroy to Hong Kong. He was most charming, and expressed a wish that we might go riding together this afternoon.” She looked up at him.

  Mark suspected she was hoping he might try to talk her out of going, but he did not.

  “That sounds most enjoyable. I wish I were free to join you, but as a host with nearly a hundred guests, I have little time for my own amusement.”

  He started to leave, but she stopped him by saying, “You have time, however, to hold meetings with Miss Dunn this morning, I hear.”

  Mark turned to her. “Sophie, you know that is about business. I am not doing it for amusement.” He felt bad that he was unable to spend much time with Sophie and said, “I want you to enjoy yourself this weekend. I am sorry to be so busy. But I promise we can spend some time together after this weekend. Perhaps we might take a trip to London for some theatre or shopping, or whatever you like.”

  That seemed to mollify her and she turned back to her reading.

  “London sounds nice. Might we visit my friend, Stephanie Bowles? I have not seen her for several years, although we write each other frequently.”

  “We can do whatever you wish.”

  “And my mother would most certainly want to come along as a chaperone.”

  “That will be acceptable.”

  Mark needed to get to his next task and headed once more for the door.

  “And perhaps you have time later this evening when we might be able to spend some time together, alone?”

  “I doubt that, Sophie. I am sorry. But I really am pressed this weekend.”

  She gave a coy smile, “But try. Even half an hour would be so lovely.”

  “I will see what I can do,” he said and escaped.

  Mark went directly to see his father, whom he had not visited for several days. He entered the darkened room and thought his father might still be asleep. He backed up to leave when his father spoke up.

  “Mark? Is that you?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Come in, Son. Come sit with me.”

  Mark entered the room. “Might I open the draperies? It is so dark.”

  “The morning light hurts my eyes. The sun comes right in.”

  “Just a little then.”

  He went to the windows and opened two sets of draperies just wide enough to allow some light to stream in, slashing across the oriental carpet.

  “Where is the nurse?” Mark asked.

  “She should be here momentarily. She needed to change her clothes.”

  Mark went over to his father’s bedside and stood looking down at him.

  “I am sorry you had to miss the recital last evening. It was quite marvelous.”

  “I am sorry I have to miss the weekend altogether. It has been a long time since there has been so much activity in the house. This is how it used to be. But times seem to be changing and there is not as much social activity these days.”

  “I was wondering if you might feel up to a short recital here in your rooms. I believe Miss Dunn would be delighted to play a few pieces for you, unless you think it might be too tiring.”

  “Oh, Son, I should love that. You know how much I enjoy music, and it makes me sad that I cannot enter into the festivities this weekend. A short concert would be most welcome.”

  “Then, I shall arrange it. Perhaps later this afternoon?”

  “If I am not asleep.”

  “Then, whenever suits you.”

  “Stop by after lunch and see how I am doing.”

  Mark took his father’s hand. He could tell the old man was fading. And, as much as he regretted thinking it, he knew the end could not be far off—days, perhaps weeks. But he also knew the old man was tenacious and might surprise them all and hang on through the rest of the year.

  The nurse returned. “Good morning, Your Grace,” she said, coming over and straightening the bed covers.

  “Good day, Mildred. Is there anything you need?”

  “We are doing just fine. And the staff are very responsive folks if anything is required.”

  “I am pleased to hear that. We have a grand staff here. Although they are stretched thin this weekend with all the guests.”

  Mark turned back to his father. “Is there anything you need from me? I have a hectic morning but have a few moments.”

  “Just sit with me. I get very lonely.” He cast a look at Mildred. “She is a darling but does not say much. She is always engrossed in her knitting. I do not see how any one person can wear so many scarfs, socks, or mittens.”

  Mildred looked over her spectacles as she knitted. “They are for the poor, your Grace,” she said with a wry smile. “And he knows it,” she said to Mark.

  Mark sat with his father and held his hand until he closed his eyes to snooze again. Mark stood up.

  “Tell him I shall stop by later and remind him of the recital?”

  “Recital?” Mildred asked.

  “He will tell you about it.”

  Chapter 22

  After her early morning walk, Emily had had breakfast, but she was so exhausted from the days of stress and practice leading up to the recital, that she decided to lie down and take a quick nap before the ten o’clock meeting with Mark and his friends.

  Suddenly Emily sat up on the bed and threw her legs over the side. She rubbed her eyes and sought the time. There was a clock on the fireplace mantel that read five past ten. She gasped and stood up, checked herself in the mirror, clasped her summer shawl around her shoulders and ran toward Mark’s study where she bust in and stopped—seeing no one but a household maid dusting.

  “Oh…” she exclaimed. “Where is the meeting?”

  The maid answered. “It was moved to the library, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  Emily rushed to the library and opened the door gently, so as not to disturb if the meeting was already in progress, and slipped inside.

  Mark looked up at her entrance. “Emily. Did no one tell you about the change in venue?”

  “I am afraid I took a nap and was running late. A chambermaid told me you were here.”

  “C
ome join us, Miss Dunn,” one of the gentlemen said, as all of the gentlemen stood at her entrance.

  Emily went over to the circle where they had been sitting around a low table. One comfortable chair had been reserved for her.

  “Miss Emily, these gentlemen and I have been discussing what we might be able to offer you regarding the advancement of your career,” Mark said, from where he was sitting in the chair next to her.

  Emily sat down and took several deep breaths to calm herself after her hurry to find the meeting.

  “I believe you have met all of these gentlemen,” Mark started.

  Mr. Butler, the partner in Butler, Goodwin, and Winter, was seated across from her and she nodded to him in greeting. Next to him was Bernard Smith, the Dean of Music at London University. She nodded to him as well. But she had not been introduced to the third gentleman. And when she turned to him he introduced himself.

  “We have not met. Miss Dunn, allow me to introduce myself—Heinrich Darmstadt, formerly of the Heidelberg Conservatory of Music, at your service.” He gave a sharp nod.

  “Now then, Miss Emily, each of these gentlemen has a proposal for you,” Mark said. Then he held his hand out to the professor.

  The professor placed his spectacles, which were on a cord around his neck, on the bridge of his nose and looked at Emily.

  “Miss Dunn, our school is limited as to what we can offer a talented young lady, such as yourself. If you were a student, I am certain I could arrange a scholarship for you. But, by the evidence of last evening, you are now ready for the professional musical world. The most I could offer would be to book a few recitals—paid, of course—at our concert hall during the next school year. I know that is not a great deal, and not what you are looking for, but if that interests you, I will be happy to arrange it.”

  Emily responded, “Thank you, Professor Smith. I am open to every opportunity to play professionally in the upcoming year.”

  Mark then indicated Mr. Butler.

  Mr. Butler consulted several papers on the table in front of him. He then looked up at Emily and, wagging his finger, said, “We at Butler, Goodwin, and Winter would be most pleased to offer you representation as your agents. However, we are not well connected on the continent and could only offer to help negotiate on your behalf with UK bookings. They might be sporadic, but we would work to build your reputation throughout Great Britain. Is that something you might be interested in?”

  “Most certainly,” Emily said with great enthusiasm.

  “Excellent. Then, when I return to London, I shall confer with my partners and we will contact you so that you might come in and discuss a representation agreement. Then we can get started.”

  “Might I be able to bring my current manager and teacher, Giles Carter, with me to the meeting?”

  Mr. Butler seemed taken aback. “Oh, you have current representation?”

  “Oh, no. He is the manager of the trio, of which I was previously a member.”

  “I see.”

  Mr. Butler seemed to be considering and Emily was apprehensive that she might lose his interest.

  “Then he does not currently represent you?”

  “No.”

  “Very well, then he is welcome to come as an advisor, but we cannot allow him any further representation of your career.”

  “I completely understand,” Emily said. “That will not be an issue.”

  Mr. Butler nodded. “Then if you will give me your address, we shall contact you shortly.”

  Emily turned to Mark and smiled. “This is most exciting. I am very pleased, Your Grace. Thank you.”

  “Wait, Herr Darmstadt has something he wishes to say, as well.”

  Emily turned to Herr Darmstadt. “Sir, I am listening.”

  “Fraulein Dunn, I was most gratified last evening when I finally made it to Linfield Hall. I almost missed your recital, but I am happy to say I didn’t. And what a revelation it was for me. Rarely have I heard such divine playing of the piano. You are truly gifted.”

  Emily nodded modestly, “Thank you. I truly appreciate your interest.”

  “I am with the German-Franco agency, Kroner-DuPont. I would need to confer with my colleagues, but I feel certain we could organize a substantial tour for the season of next year.”

  Emily turned to Mark and smiled. She reached over and took his hand. “Your Grace, is that not splendid?”

  Mark turned to Herr Darmstadt. “If you think it might facilitate matters, I could come to Heidelberg to deal with any questions and help with the paperwork. I could then bring any contracts to Miss Dunn for her signature.”

  “That would be helpful, but not for some time. It will take us at least three months to four months for the tour to be set up. You understand?”

  Mark nodded.

  “However, an agreement between us, we could write before I return to Germany. Ya?”

  Mr. Butler spoke up. “I could draw that up for both of you to sign before the weekend is over, if that is acceptable to everyone?”

  “But she is not officially signed with you yet?” Mark reminded him.

  “This would not be an official agency document. Just a way for the process to begin as efficiently as possible,” Mr. Butler added.

  Mark stood with a large smile, “Well, Gentlemen—Miss Emily. I think we have made great progress toward a successful career.” He turned to Emily. “Are you pleased? Do you understand everything that has just happened?”

  “Mostly. But there are many details to be worked out, I am certain.”

  “Gentlemen,” Mark said, offering to shake each man’s hand.

  “And now if you do not mind, I anticipated a happy outcome and suggest a champagne toast.”

  Mark turned to the footman standing by, who removed a bottle from a bucket of ice and opened it—filling glasses for the toast.

  Emily was so excited she felt she must share the good news with Alice and the Duchess. However, the Duchess was most likely still at the Flower competition, so she sought out Alice.

  She first went to Alice and Chester’s room but neither was there. She roamed the house looking for them in all of the obvious places but she could not find her dear, new friend.

  On the off-chance, she went to the Duchess’s rooms, but Baggs said she had not yet returned from the fete.

  Then, at a loss with what to do with herself and all her excitement, she decided to take a stroll around the front of the house and keep an eye out for the Duchess’s carriage.

  Emily went to her room, changed into a warmer shawl and headed for the front door. As she was about to exit, Colin Harris, the conductor’s son, approached her.

  “Miss Dunn,” he called out.

  Emily turned to him, “Yes, Mr. Harris?”

  “Are you to take a breath of fresh air?”

  “I am.”

  “Might I accompany you? I should like to stretch my legs.”

  Emily really wanted to be alone to process all that had happened in the last four and twenty hours, but she did not want to be standoffish or rude.

  “Of course. However, I am on the lookout for the return of the Duchess and must visit with her when she returns.”

  “By all means. I do not wish to intrude. If you prefer, I can take a stroll by myself.”

  Emily felt a little guilty and said, “Please do accompany me. It is such a lovely morning and I should like company.”

  Mr. Harris offered her his arm and they left the house.

  They began by strolling along the driveway in front of the house and stopped to admire the vista of the lake at the bottom of the incline.

  “I have never been to Linfield Hall before, have you?” Mr. Harris asked.

  “Yes, I have, and find it to be a most harmonious environment, do you not think so?”

  “Indeed.”

  They gazed at the view for a moment or two and then began strolling again.

  Mr. Harris kept looking at Emily and smiling and she began to think that, while he w
as not flirting, he was at the very least expressing an interest in her that was more than that of a friendly fellow guest.

  “You live in London?” he asked.

  “I do. However, I will rarely be at home once I start touring in the autumn.” She wanted to make sure he understood she was not available.

 

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