Chapter 13

Whether she liked it or not, Lady Emmaline was now Alex"s wife and as such, he was determined to get to know her better. It was abundantly clear to Alex that the lady was still quite unsure of him, wary and nervous around him. He felt it in the tension of her body every time he was near.

And though he oddly liked the tension he caused within her—in a way it made him feel as though there might actually be something other than mere arrangement—he was determined that they should both get to know one another.

So it was with that intention that he encouraged her out the next morning for promenade, walking from their house in order to ease into the public eye rather than simply appearing by carriage, dropped right into the middle of things.

At first, they walked in silence, entirely separate. But soon, Alex felt her drawing nearer. Or perhaps it was he who drew nearer to her. Either way, he enjoyed the feel of her walking at his side, especially when their elbows brushed, and he felt a shock of desire to take her hand.

"Have you been to promenade often, Your Grace?" he asked when he was unable to hold his silence any longer.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, hoping not to make her too uncomfortable in his presence. He was used to the discomfort of people around him and his scars. It bothered him far less than it had when first he had been injured. But somehow, he cared what Emmaline might think.

"Once or twice," Emmaline responded and she looked at him with a sweet smile, "And you, Your Grace?"

Alex cringed a little at the title falling off her lips. He had used it in order to respect her, but he had encouraged her from the beginning of their marriage to simply called him Alex or Alexander. Clearly, she was not yet comfortable enough to do so. Perhaps if he called her Emmaline more often…

"I have," he said, nodding. "Though never with a lady quite so beautiful on my arm."

He felt more than saw her shock. She wafted at her face with her fan. "You are just saying that."

"Why? Because you are my wife?"

He looked at her then and she looked back at him, the words hanging between them.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Any fool could see how beautiful you are, Emmaline. I did not need to be married to you to see it," he stated as they neared the park where the promenades were so often held.

"Somehow, I don"t quite believe you, Your Grace," Emmaline said, dipping her head as if to take the sting out of her words.

Alex gritted his teeth and sucked in his breath. If only she knew that her beauty had captivated him from the first moment he saw her. Yet, he could not bring himself to voice such words, especially not in public where anyone might hear them.

As if she sensed his reluctance to continue the conversation, she asked, "Do you think perhaps we ought to link arms? For appearance"s sake if nothing more, of course."

Alex"s stomach twisted. He would happily have her touch him and not merely for appearances sake.

"Of course," he said, smiling as he offered her his arm. The way she looked at him, only able to see the good side of his face, Alex could almost believe what she had said previously about his being handsome.

She certainly made him feel far better about himself than anyone else had.

And when she took his arm, he made a point of placing his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers affectionately. "For appearance's sake," he whispered to her, hoping not to frighten her off.

She looked down at his gloved hand on top of hers on his forearm and he feared he had done just that. But instead, she turned her face back up to him and smiled, "Indeed."

They walked through the park gates in silence and almost the moment they did they were bombarded by gossiping glances, whispered voices and much scrutiny.

Perhaps we ought to have gotten to know each other better outside the public eye, he thought begrudgingly. The last thing he wanted for Emmaline was more discomfort. But to her credit, she held her head high and greeted people with a wave or a dip of her head and a few words here and there in passing.

Alex was once more in awe of her. The way she appeared to take everything in stride was most becoming of her. He wholeheartedly admired her, imagining once more that she might just be the perfect duchess for Westmarch.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, making Alex jump when she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"You," Alex said simply and for perhaps the first time in a long time, he felt himself blushing. How silly he must have looked blushing like a schoolboy with such hideous scars upon his face. "You are a natural."

Emmaline looked at him with a raised brow. "A natural what?"

Alex shook his head and cleared his throat. "It does not matter."

Emmaline looked about to question him further when they were accosted by one of the many peddlers in the park.

"Buy a rose for the lady, sir?" the young man, barely old enough to be called a man, asked as he dipped his head. He held many roses and other various flowers on a tray that had been strapped around his neck and hung at his chest.

"Oh, that is most kind of you but—" Emmaline began but Alex did not allow her to finish her protest.

He released her arm and took out his money purse. "How much?"

"Three shillings, sir," the man said.

"Your Grace, there is really no—" Emmaline tried to protest again, and Alex saw the way the boy"s eyes widened at his title.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, I did not know who you—" he began but Alex waved away the apology and pulled a silver coin from his purse. "Here. Keep the change."

With that, he plucked the only yellow rose from the tray and turned to offer it to Emmaline, feeling a small thrill at the shock on the man"s face.

"Be gone with you before I change my mind," Alex barked, feeling several members of the ton watching him closely.

Though he wished to show Emmaline the man he could be, he still had a reputation to uphold.

As the boy scurried off, Alex dipped into a bow and offered the rose to Emmaline. "My dearest, please accept this as a small token of my gratitude for becoming my wife."

Emmaline looked at the rose with an unreadable expression and just when Alex thought she might decline for his harsh words to the peddler, she smiled. Taking the rose from him, she sniffed its petals before she said, "That was very generous of you."

"It is only a single rose," Alex said, shrugging.

She looked at him over the rose and scowled. "I meant the silver."

"I like to do my bit," he said, shrugging. "What is the point of having so much wealth if others cannot enjoy it too?"

Emmaline looked surprised at that, but she quickly gave the flower another sniff before she asked, "What made you choose the yellow?"

"Do you not like it? I can fetch an—"

"No, no! It is wonderful. I just wondered… oh, it doesn"t matter," Emmaline said, shaking her head. "It is just, well, yellow roses are my favorite."

Why that made Alex quiver, he did not know.

"Perhaps we have more in common than we first realized," he said, offering her his arm so that they could continue to walk. "I have always wondered why people put so much favor upon red roses. Yellow is much brighter and more beautiful in my opinion."

Emmaline marveled over the rose in her hand as they started to walk. "I agree."

After that, their company felt much more comfortable. The smile upon Emmaline"s face seemed much more genuine and Alex found he was actually enjoying himself, barely noticing those all around them still gossiping as they had the evening before.

"When we toured the gardens, I did not manage to show you all," Alex admitted, "Perhaps when we return, I might show you the rest? There is very little left to see but at the bottom of the orchard, there is a garden, one my mother used to call the secret garden. It is quite beautiful."

Emmaline's grip on his forearm tightened and when she smiled at him there was unbridled joy in her eyes. "I think I would like that very much."

She sniffed the rose once more with meaning almost as if she wished to commit its smell to memory. Alex found himself hoping that from now on, whenever they both smelled roses, they would both think of this day.

"I think perhaps we ought to return by carriage," he suggested, "The sun grows overbearing."

Again, she nodded, "I agree. Shall we find one now?"

She glanced away then as if registering the fact they were still being watched. And in that moment, Alex would have given anything to be alone with her.

Taking her hand in his, he lifted her knuckles to his lips and kissed them. Looming down at her as he did so, he whispered, "Your wish is my command, my dearest duchess."

The tension between them then made Alex wish it had not been her hand but her lips that he had kissed.

It took all he had in him to pull away and start in the direction of the carriage bank.

This woman was making it exceedingly more difficult for him to keep up his disguise as the all-powerful, fear-inducing duke. And yet, in a way, he liked it.

It was a dangerous notion and so, half-way to the carriages he yelled, "You there! Boy! Fetch me a carriage!"

And watching the young boy he had just accosted rush off in the direction of the waiting coachmen, he felt an odd mix of relief and shame.

I must do what I must do for my family, he reminded himself firmly. Though Emmaline was included in that family now, he could not allow her to be his downfall.