by Fanny Finch
“I believe she and her mother have gone, yes,” the Duchess of Corning responded. “I have just invited the dukes to our home for dinner the day after tomorrow.”
Emma smiled weakly at both men. “That sounds lovely. I am sure we will all have a good time. You will have a chance to meet my father.”
The Duke of Lox nodded. “I am anxious to meet the man who has so many beautiful women in his home. He is a lucky man.”
“Thank you, your grace,” the Duchess of Corning lifted her hand fan and spread it out, covering her smile. “That is kind of you to say.”
The Duke of Lox looked at Emma. “As I was telling your daughter during our dance, I only speak the truth. However, I must go. The Duke of Rabney and I have business to attend to early in the morning and I must get some rest.”
“It was so good to meet you, your grace,” Katherine spoke up, holding out her hand to him. He took her hand and bowed.
“And you as well, Miss Katherine.”
The Duke of Rabney repeated his friend’s actions as the two of them said goodbye to the ladies. Emma was a little nervous that when the Duke of Lox left, the Duchess of Corning would scold her. She should have known the grand lady would not behave that way in public but it did not keep her from fearing she would.
True to form, the Duchess of Corning held out her hands to the girls as if she was rounding them up. “The carriage is waiting, girls. Let us see to it.”
The women moved swiftly across the room, following the dukes who had just left them. Emma watched the Duke of Lox from behind, running her eyes over his body, admiring the way he swung his great coat around his shoulders and pinned it under his neck. There was no need for the extra layer, as it was a warm night.
Emma draped her shawl over her forearm instead of wearing it. She did not want to get overheated. Her stomach was grumbling from hunger.
She would have Cook make her some pastries, if there were any available, and drink some tea before bed. It would settle her stomach and put her mind in a better position to think. There were so many distractions around her and the queasy feeling had not dissipated after she left Lord Carne behind.
He was being uncommonly friendly toward her. Emma desperately wanted to talk to Camilla about it and was disappointed her cousin had already left. She would have to wait until tomorrow to talk to her.
Her fear was that he would make his way to her father and make an arrangement for their marriage. He was wealthy, making a good income on his investments and his purse was heavy. But Emma was less interested in the size of his accounts than the size of his heart. She longed for passion and mutual respect.
The more she thought about the decline of her father’s health, the more she realized that Lord Carne would not be making a deal with her father. It would be the Duchess of Corning that would sign for her husband.
The thought filled Emma with dread. She had danced with Lord Carne regularly for the last three seasons and never had the inclination he had any intentions other than friendship toward her. Now, the thought of taking their friendship beyond that repulsed Emma. It was not that the lord struck her as being repulsive himself. It was more the idea of sharing herself with him and attempting to love him with all of her being that turned her away.
In her heart, Emma held not one modicum of attraction for Lord Carne that would make her even entertain the idea of becoming his bride.
"Emma,” her step-mother said in a low voice that implied she was unhappy. “Why were you on the veranda with Lord Carne? What did he say to you?”
Emma was caught off guard. She had not thought about that incident. She was probably subconsciously blocking it out. The previous seasons, Lord Carne had just been another face in the crowd. This season, there was something different about him.
“I…” Emma thought quickly, formulating her words carefully so she would not sound disrespectful. “I was not on the veranda with Lord Carne …” she said. “Not on purpose. I went out there for a bit of fresh air and he was returning from a walk, I assume. We had brief words and he opened the door for me. That is all.”
“What were his exact words?” The Duchess of Corning had narrowed her eyes and was scanning Emma’s face carefully. Emma was taken aback by the look on her step-mother’s face. What could she be so worried about?
“I am sorry, I do not even remember what was said. I did not want to be drawn into conversation with Lord Carne. He is being very forward with me this year but I have no interest in him.”
The Duchess of Corning said nothing. She simply stared at Emma a few more seconds before turning her eyes to look through the window at the night sky, leaving Emma completely confused.
The carriage bumped underneath her as she rode with her family back to Corning Manor. She saw the torches burning from a distance and thought how beautiful her home looked in the mist of the night, lit up only by firelight in all the windows.
The parlor would be cozy and warm. Her favorite chair was waiting for her. She would have tea with her family and then off to bed. What would she dream of tonight? Who would she dream of?
In her heart, she knew who she would dream of. The Duke of Lox. His handsome face, his broad shoulders, his strong countenance. If she were to attract such a man and if that man were to have the heart of compassion she sought, she would be a very blessed woman. She could not deny she was attracted to his physique. His dancing was impeccable… beyond reproach.
But that one word he had uttered… it had been his undoing. Obedient.
She did not want to be a man’s slave instead of a wife.
Chapter 4
The Duke of Lox departed from the ballroom, glad to be free of the crowing mothers and their braying daughters. He was nearly certain the Duke of Rabney felt the same way. From the look on his face when he turned his eyes to him, he was surely not mistaken.
“I do hope this experience makes you understand why I rarely attend these events,” he said firmly as they walked quickly to their carriage.
The Duke of Rabney looked at his friend and nodded. “I most certainly do. We are the same age, sir, and still we are bachelors. Our bank accounts are full and these events are filled with ravenous wolves out to decimate those accounts for the sake of others.”
“You speak so eloquently,” the Duke of Lox replied. “It would seem you have given this topic some thought.”
“I most certainly have.” The Duke of Rabney fell quiet for a moment. They reached the carriage and he said, “I must admit, however…”
The Duke of Lox could not help grinning wide. He already knew what his friend was about to say.
“Tonight was different, was it not?” he asked in a low voice as they pulled up into the cabin of the carriage. The Duke of Rabney looked at him through understanding eyes.
“Yes, my lord. It was different. And I do believe we are talking about the same young ladies.”
“I am relieved to hear you say ladies and not lady, sir,” the Duke of Lox said with a grin. “I did hope we were not vying for the same young woman.”
The Duke of Rabney shook his head. “No, my lord. These two young ladies were together when we signed their dance cards early in the evening. Lady Camilla Fielding of Cooksey is the lady of which I speak.”
“Yes, I thought as much,” the Duke of Lox nodded as he spoke. “And I set my eyes on the lovely Lady Emma Wentworth of Corning.”
“Exactly, my lord.”
“Then we are of like mind. I am glad to hear it.”
The Duke of Rabney nodded soberly. “We are well on our way to inheriting what is rightfully ours.”
The Duke of Lox nodded back at his friend and turned his eyes to look out at the cloudy night sky. The moon was bright when it was able to shine through the drifting clouds. At times, he would see the entire countryside and moments later, it would be nearly pitch-black as far as the eye could see.
He thought about his dance with the young Lady Wentworth. She was somewhat of a puzzlement to him. When they star
ted the dance, she was like all the other females… prancing, giggling, flirting. When he’d asked a question or two, she’d answered with intelligence and understanding. She did not boast in any way, nor did she lie to put herself in a more favorable light.
She simply told the truth.
And when he had mentioned her step-mother…
He suddenly realized he should not have mentioned the Duchess of Corning. He assumed too much. What if the relationship they had between them was not a good one? If the problem stemmed from Lady Wentworth’s apparent stubborn-headedness, he could understand.
After his comment about having spoken to the Duchess of Corning, Lady Wentworth seemed to become very quiet. She was no longer interested in what he had to say and would answer his questions honestly but bluntly with no embellishment or flair. She complimented him on being a good dancer when the music came to an end but it went no further than that. She showed no signs of having complimentary feelings toward him.
Unfortunately for him, there was nothing he could do until the next event and simply hoping that Lady Wentworth would be there. Unless he chanced by her in the streets. The chances of that happening were slim. The Duke of Lox rarely ventured into the shopping district of town, which was the most likely place to find a female.
Maybe he would have to try out new things. There was no reason he could not meander out that way at some point in time.
He grinned at the twinkling stars outside. Perhaps she was looking through the window of her chambers, staring at the same glittering black sky. The thought made his smile widen. He pulled in a deep breath.
It was strange to feel this way. It was so different. He was not quite sure if the feeling was real or not. He had never experienced it before. He found himself thinking about the woman, wondering if she was all right and had a good time at the ball. It was not his business in the least.
But he could not help wondering.
That made his decision to woo her stronger and he wondered what he could do to impress her. She had seemed anxious to get away from him, so he had to assume he had some explaining to do. Some promises would be made, he was sure of that. He would promise to never speak of the Duchess of Corning ever again, if she would consider him worthy.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It would be a mistake to entrust his heart and soul to this woman quite yet. He had one more season to go before he was required to marry or lose the majority of his money.
He did not think ill of his uncle, who was the executor of the late Duke of Lox’s will, for enforcing the marriage requirement. His father, rest his soul, had told him before he passed on that if Nigel didn’t have a family, he would not need such a large inheritance. The money would go to charities that favored women and children.
On the other hand, the sooner he was married, the sooner he would receive his inheritance.
Of all the women he had danced with for the past four seasons, Miss Wentworth was the only one who caught his eye the way she did. He couldn’t help wishing he had bought Brisbourne and moved to the area sooner. When she placed her hand in his, his other hand firmly against her side, he felt a sense of completeness he had never experienced before. He wanted to know everything about her.
His initial question, asking her if she had ever been out of the country, was completely due to being nervous. It was the first thing that came to his mind. He had searched his mind for something interesting to say and there it was, coming at him like a board in a windstorm, smacking him in the head.
And she had responded with dignity and class. He admired her honesty. He knew many women who had told odd, lengthy tales of journeys only to find out later they were completely fabricated stories, told to make the young woman out to be more than she was.
This included matters of the purse. He was not interested in the type of pushy woman who would insist he pay for all the extravagancies of life without lifting a finger to do anything other than eat. He wanted a real wife, not a slave, not some kind of concubine.
“What are you thinking, Baldwin?” the Duke of Rabney asked. “I can see by the look on your face you are contemplating something.”
The Duke of Lox slid his eyes over to his friend and nodded. “I am. I am thinking a great deal about the young women you mentioned earlier. I must admit I do not believe I have ever… felt this way about a woman before.”
The Duke of Rabney frowned as one in disbelief. “No, Baldwin, that cannot be possible.”
“I do not know why it should be such a surprise, Christian. I propose you think back to when we were just twenty years of age. We were informed together that our inheritance dictates we marry within five years or risk losing it all. For the last four seasons, we have been searching but have never found a compatible match.”
“That may be because we were perhaps not really looking? I know several women you have introduced to me that seemed like a fine match.”
The Duke of Lox gave his friend a sarcastic look. “Surely I look different on the outside after having danced with Lady Wentworth.”
The Duke of Rabney scanned his friend and then nodded. “Yes. I do admit you look different. You appear much more relaxed.”
“I feel somewhat anxious, if I may say so. But I am glad I appear more relaxed. I am thinking about my future. Perhaps a bit late in the game but I am finally considering it.”
The Duke of Rabney gave his friend a dubious look. “You are thinking marriage to Lady Emma already? Our plight may be important, Baldwin, but do not jump ahead of yourself.”
“I will be cautious, Christian. And yes, I wish to win her heart. I fear I have my work cut out for me.”
“Your dancing this evening was immaculate, Baldwin. You need not worry about that. I was impressed and I have seen you dance many times before.”
The carriage jostled, making the men sway from side to side, attempting to steady themselves. The Duke of Lox gave the Duke of Rabney a direct look. “I believe it is time to do some repairs on the carriage.”
The Duke of Rabney guffawed, throwing his head back. The loud but joyful sound filled the carriage. “You mean it is time to purchase a new carriage. I understand the concept of living frugally, Baldwin, but at some point, you must admit it is time to move on from the old. Buy a new carriage. You can afford it.”
“I will thank his lordship for not interfering in the private affairs of my estate.” The Duke of Lox sounded serious. As soon as the words left his mouth, he joined his friend in laughter.
The carriage was not far from Brisbourne Manor. The Duke of Lox was anxious to see the soft warm blankets of his bed. His chambers were always warm from the fire that stayed lit from seven p.m. to six a.m.
Lady Wentworth. How he longed to dance with her again. He could not forget the sensation of having her in his arms. He wanted more than that. He wanted her as a wife. The way she had changed her behavior after hearing something she did not want to hear was on his mind. It showed the woman had a spine and was willing to fight for herself.
They pulled into the circular carriage path in front of Brisbourne Manor.
The Duke of Lox stepped down from the carriage, landing gracefully on a street of broken marble. He looked at the broken pieces and wondered why he had ever agreed to have it put around his path. It just made people fall about each other and wore down the horses’ hooves. The cost of replacing horseshoes on a regular basis made the path without any value.
He shook his head. He would replace it soon enough. He had more important things to think about at present.
It was a rare moment when something could make the Duke of Lox bargain with himself. He was easy-going and famous among some circles for being a man who produced real results. That often made him a force to be reckoned with. But every so often, he would neglect the simple pleasures he enjoyed, such as this. He had ample time and money to have the repairs done.
And it took the face of a lovely young woman to motivate him to make small things like that a priority.
&nb
sp; Lady Emma Wentworth would make him feel invincible. She may be angry with him right now but he hoped she would grow to fancy him at least a little. He felt a connection to her as soon as he saw her face. He did not want to say he was completely taken in with her beauty, though he was. Her wavy long hair. Her big, bright blue eyes. She was a remarkably pretty woman.
He wondered if she knew it.
There was nothing more obnoxious than a woman who knew her beauty but had the personality of a coiling snake about to strike. He wanted nothing of that kind of woman.
When she showed her backbone by standing up to him, he knew he had to have her.
There had to be others vying for her hand, as well. He wondered how many suitors called on her. He felt jealous without reason.
Grinning, he walked into Brisbourne Manor, following his friend inside, where they would share a brandy before going to their chambers and trying to get a good night’s sleep. He knew he would not be able to get to sleep. She was too much on his mind.
