Chapter 12

The Trentons' Ball was unlike any Emmaline had ever experienced. She had been to one of Lord and Lady Trenton"s balls before but never upon the arm of a duke. And from the very moment they set foot inside, the whispering and the examining looks began.

It was one thing to be a debutante on your first London Season gossiped about merely for the match you might make and quite another to be gossiped about beside you were being escorted into one of the most prestigious parties of the Season by the scarred duke himself.

Emmaline tried her damnedest not to let the looks or the mutterings get to her, but it was a next to impossible from the moment they were greeted by their hosts.

"Your Grace, such a pleasure for you to honor us with your presence this evening," Lady Trenton said once her husband had given him his most formal greeting. Emmaline stood meekly at her new husband"s side, praying that she could get through this very first meeting. Maybe then the rest would be easier.

But it appeared the duke was to throw her in the deep end as he urged her forward with his fingers wrapped firmly around hers, "My Lord, My Lady, I must thank you for inviting us. I am certain you have met my wife on previous occasions, though by a different name. May I reintroduce you to The Duchess of Westmarch, formerly Lady Emmaline Moreau, daughter of the earl of Monrith."

The duke"s tone was clear, his volume lofty. Emmaline's throat constricted.

It was not only the Trentons who had heard and looked utterly shocked. All those within eavesdropping distance whipped around as if all their long years of practiced dignity and refinement were washed away in an instant.

"Your Grace, Your Grace," the nobleman and his wife quickly recovered, bowing and curtsying in turn to them both. "Many congratulations to you both!"

"Thank you, Lord Trenton," the duke said, dipping his head to the viscount.

"Thank you, My Lord, My Lady," Emmaline added, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat.

With her new title as duchess, she had attempted to dress the part. Hoping not to make a fool of her new husband and at least look as if she had been prepared for the match, wearing an elegant purple gown and the finest jewels, her hair trussed up in the latest fashion. But as she stood there, the attention of nearly half the room on her and growing by the moment, she felt as if she were lost at sea.

"Ahh, and here come my new in-laws!" the duke announced as if to brush over any awkwardness. Emmaline was most relieved to glance around and find her father, stepmother, Jane and her two eldest brothers entering the foyer behind her.

"Go, my love, see your family are well," the duke said, gesturing her forward and Emmaline"s heart raced. Whether it was for the eyes of all those around her or he truly felt some wave of affection for her, she did not know. Either way, she was glad to be released by him, even for a moment. His ambivalence was almost as infuriating as the gossiping members of the ton.

Why did he have to announce their marriage quite so publicly?

At least he didn"t call a toast and announce it to the entire ballroom, Emmaline thought. That might have been entirely mortifying.

Even as she hurried away to greet her family, she heard Lord Trenton ask the duke, "So, Your Grace, you must tell me. How did your wondrous marriage come about?"

Wondrous indeed, Emmaline scoffed. She wasn"t about to stick around for the falsities about to leave her new husband"s mouth and so she made a beeline for her family.

"Oh, Emmaline!"

Before she could greet any of them, she was pulled into Jane"s warm, sisterly embrace. "I have been so worried about you. Are you well? Is he treating you fair? How have you been?"

"Breathe, Jane, anyone would think your stays are too tight," her mother warned over her shoulder as she prepared to be greeted once the duke had finished with the viscount. She adjusted the buttons on her silken gloves and laid her hand on her husband"s arm. Emmaline was relieved to see some color had returned to her father"s cheeks.

She wished he had stayed home to rest but knowing her father as she did, she made no attempt to broach the subject, greeting them all before she answered Jane"s rambling questions. "I am well, and the duke is treating me exceptionally well."

"I might say so too, dear sister," Sebastian, her eldest brother said, glancing up and down.

"Indeed, it appears you have landed on your feet, little sister," Victor added, raising his hand as if he were about to ruffle her hair like he would once have done when they were younger. He just seemed to stop himself before messing up the elegant updo Mrs. Farthing had taken considerable time on that afternoon.

Emmaline blinked, remembering how she had appeared in the mirror before leaving. With her hair piled high atop her head, one long flowing strand of curls hanging over one shoulder, decorated with diamond tiara, there could be no mistaking that she was the wife of a duke now.

The diamond teardrop earrings and matching necklace that Mrs. Farthing had also brought her only helped matters, along with the glorious emerald-green gown she wore that she only now realized matched her husband's waistcoat and cravat.

He had planned out their entrance into society as man and wife right down to their appearance. And though she knew it was mainly for his own gain and for that of her family"s reputation, a part of her couldn"t help but feel affection toward him for it. It appeared he had thought of everything, and a thoughtful man might perhaps even be a romantic one.

"Emmaline, are you sure you are well?" Jane asked and it was only when her hand landed on her forearm that Emmaline realized she had been openly staring, admiring her new husband with a look of adoration.

Several others in the room were staring at her but the duke himself appeared oblivious.

Dipping her head, cheeks hot, Emmaline nodded. She cleared her throat and said, "I should return to the duke. He shall want to escort me into the ballroom, and you have yet to be greeted by our hosts."

"You will find me again later?" Jane said, gripping Emmaline"s hand in a way that said she would not let go until she had gotten an agreeable answer.

"If I am able," Emmaline promised, squeezing her sister"s fingers before she reluctantly returned to the duke"s side.

"Shall we dearest?" he asked, offering her his elbow the moment she returned to him. The smile on his face made her heart flutter. Was this all merely show or was there something more behind his smile? Emmaline couldn"t be sure. She decided it best to play along until she was certain.

"We shall, my love," she responded. The words were thick in her throat and yet, her stomach fluttered at saying them. It wasn"t an entirely unpleasant sensation as one might expect.

"Please, do enjoy yourselves," Lord Trenton insisted.

"Yes, our home is open to you both," Lady Trenton added, "And congratulations again."

With that the viscount and his wife turned to greet Emmaline"s family and she heard them receiving congratulations also as the duke guided her into the ballroom.

It appeared that those within had already begun to hear the news for the second they entered, all eyes turned on them. Though there was already music playing, the dancing had yet to begin and there were far too many faces staring back at her, idly standing at the edge of the dancefloor with glasses in hand.

"Pay them no mind," the duke whispered in her ear, placing his free hand on top of hers on his arm. "They are little to you now. You are a duchess. Be mighty by my side."

His words of encouragement were more than she could have hoped for, yet she thought them easy for him to say. He was a well-respected, if much feared duke, and he was held above scrutiny by mere title alone. She, on the other hand, was to be judged whether or not she was a duchess now. Her breeding, her actions, her mere appearance would all be judged now. She would be the talk of London before the night was out.

And she suspected she knew why. The duke wished their news to travel quickly, reaching into the far corners of the country in order to secure his title firmly. Yet, she couldn"t help but wish he had given her a little more time to grow used to the fact first.

Approached and congratulated by many, Emmaline had hoped that would be the end of it. But when Lord Trenton called for silence in order to begin the ball properly, it appeared she was wrong to hope.

The clinking of the bell in the lord"s hand caused all in the room to look upon him as he stood on the stage where the musicians had been playing.

He placed the small gold bell on a tray offered by a servant before beginning his speech. "I wish to welcome you all and thank you all for joining us on this fine, late summer evening!"

Emmaline"s stomach twisted the second the lord"s gaze zeroed in on her and the duke.

"But before I announce the beginning of the first dance, I wish to be the first to congratulate The Duke of Westmarch and his new wife The Duchess of Westmarch upon their very sudden yet very wonderful marriage. To Their Graces The Duke and Duchess of Westmarch! May their marriage be a happy one filled with many heirs!"

Emmaline"s throat constricted almost as painfully as her stomach twisted. Though it was not the first mention of heirs—in fact, the duke had mentioned them when explaining his proposal of marriage to her—it was the first time she had ever given it any real thought. Without the threat of her father"s illness consuming him and her family"s fortunes on better terms, she had little else to distract her.

And for the first time she realized the responsibility of what it truly meant to be married to the duke.

"Perhaps as the newest wed, Your Graces might indulge us in opening the first dance?" Lord Trenton suggested, gesturing them to take the floor.

Emmaline"s heart stopped. How could she dance when her knees were barely holding her up to stand?

Yet, the duke turned and smiled, offering his hand once more. "Duchess, would you do me the great honor of your first dance?"

For just a second, she was nothing but an innocent, naive, unwed girl again, being asked to dance by the most handsome and influential man in the room. And, as her stepmother taught her, she smiled sweetly and fluttered her lashes. "You may, Your Grace."

She dipped a curtsy and allowed him to take her out onto the floor.

It was only as they started to dance that she realized what this was. This was not just their first dance. It was their first dance as man and wife, something that ought to have been completed the night before, during their wedding celebrations and before they had gone home to the place they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Yet all those things did not dampen Emmaline"s emotion in the moment.

Though he seemed a little stiff at first, the duke was a remarkable dancer. And the way he caused her to float across the floor, swaying in his arms like a flower dancing in a gentle breeze, made her feel as if she were the most beautiful woman in the room. The way he gazed at her, unfazed by the staring of all those around them, only made her feel more so.

And Emmaline wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could make her feel like that now, maybe a life with him might not be so bad after all.

The ball had been much more tolerable than Emmaline had imagined it would be. After the shock had worn slightly and the gossip eased, she actually started to enjoy herself.

That was until just before midnight, when the ball was still in full swing, and Sean arrived at Emmaline"s side to say, "Your Grace, his grace has asked me to inform you that it is time we left."

"But the ball has barely begun!" Emmaline exclaimed. She had barely had two minutes to talk with Jane all evening. It seemed her new title as sister of a duchess had made her quite the favorite among the young and eligible bachelors.

"Don"t worry, Em," Jane said, squeezing Emmaline's forearm. "I am certain we shall have time to catch up soon. Don't keep your husband waiting."

Emmaline gulped. Husband, she wasn"t sure she would ever get used to that.

"Take me to him, please, Lord Seymour," Emmaline said after hugging her sister. "Am I to assume he has already said our farewells to our hosts on our behalf?"

At that, Lord Seymour smirked. "Indeed, Your Grace."

Emmaline cringed. Though she had expected it, she wasn"t entirely pleased. It was just another way in which she found herself trapped beneath the duke"s thumb.

"Then please, My Lord, lead the way."

And so he did, guiding Emmaline around the edge of the ballroom as if to make a swift exit. Emmaline was relieved not to be stopped, only dipping her head to a couple of acquaintances as she went.

Soon, Lord Seymour helped her into the duke"s carriage and the moment she sat down and looked at him, she was astonished.

It appeared in the time it had taken Lord Seymour to fetch her, the duke had changed his waistcoat and cravat from his emerald green to the devil"s red. And his devil's mask hung limp around his neck.

"So that is why we are leaving so early?" Emmaline asked, gesturing to the mask.

The duke at least had the decency to look apologetic. "Yes, I"m afraid I must open the club as usual. Even the ball of the Season cannot get in the way of that."

"And what of me?" Emmaline asked. "Could I not have stayed?"

The duke"s dark brow furrowed. "Why? What would you have done? It is not as though you have need of a husband now."

Emmaline"s hands tightened into fists beneath the folds of her gown. "I might have spent a little more time with my sister," she pointed out.

The duke shook his head. "Another time perhaps. I could not in good conscience leave my wife unaccompanied at a party while I am off to work."

Emmaline met his gaze unflinchingly and said, "So I ask again, what am I to do, Your Grace?"

"You shall accompany me to the club," the duke announced even as Lord Seymour entered the carriage and closed the door behind him. As if the duke noticed how she was about to protest, he sucked in a breath and added, "And if you do not wish to sit the throne beside me, Lord Seymour here shall escort you to my apartment above the club where you may rest."

Emmaline thought she saw a flicker of hope in the duke"s gaze.

Remembering her words that morning, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, "It has been a long day. I shall require rest."

Though she did not regret that decision, as she lay in bed that night—in the duke"s own bed in his apartment above the club—she couldn"t help but think on all the debauchery going on beneath her.

The naked flesh, the kissing, the touching, the bodies that writhed against each other in the corners of the room. If she had accepted his offer to sit beside him, she might have gotten one hell of a show.

And she couldn"t help but think, I am a married woman now, I am capable of more than a mere show.

Remembering how he had kissed her, how he had touched her on their wedding night, she hazarded a guess it would not take too much in order to invite the duke to consummate their marriage. Yet, she wondered, was that truly something she wanted?