Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

E mily’s satisfaction at being allowed to join the hunt was short lived. Any hopes she had harboured of Lord Baine and her being close to the action was dashed by the pace he set.

Still, I suppose it will give us a little more time to get to know one another. Emily glanced at the man riding beside her. “Lord Baine, while I appreciate your caution, I would hate for you to miss the excitement of the hunt on my account. I am sure we can ride a little harder and get a little closer to the excitement.”

“We could, though if I am honest, Miss Pembleton, I feel no pressing need to catch up to the rest of the hunters.” Lord Baine replied simply.

“You do not?” Emily’s heart sank.

Lord Baine shook his head. “No. In truth, it is not really a pastime I care for.”

“Oh.” Emily mulled this over, several pieces clicking into place. “Is that why you wanted me to accompany you? Because it would give you an excuse not to be in the thick of things?”

Lord Baine flushed slightly and nodded. “A little, yes. In truth, the events and socialisation of the last few days have left me rather tired and I craved a little change of pace. The thought of being caught up in the furor of the hunt was rather overwhelming.”

As Emily looked at him, she noticed the dark circles around his eyes, the crease in his brow. His shoulders were slumped. She recognised the same look that Jane could get when she was in a crowded place for too long.

Emily smiled kindly. “I understand.”

There was a beat of silence and then Lord Baine said, “I did mean what I said, Miss Pembleton. About this giving us a chance to get to know one another a little better.”

Emily felt a weight settle over her chest that surprised her. She was supposed to be marrying the man, getting to know him better could only be a good thing. I am being ridiculous, it is much better to spend time with him instead of being in the hunt.

Unbidden, an image of Duke Warren riding in the hunt flashed into her mind. I am sure he is having a delightful time. She pushed the thought away.

“Thank you, Lord Baine.” Emily replied hoping her voice sounded more warm and inviting than disappointed.

They lapsed into silence once more. How are we supposed to get to know one another if we can barely talk to each other? The sound of dogs barking and men shouting drifted over to them, and once or twice Lord Baine opened his mouth as if to say something, but did not.

Each time Emily found herself leaning a little closer to him, and each time she felt a stab of disappointment. The silence between them seemed oppressive and awkward. I should have stayed with the others, this is awful.

She shook herself and muttered. “You’ll never get a husband with that kind of attitude.”

“Pardon?” Lord Baine canted his head towards her.

Drat. Emily flushed and said, “I was wondering if you might share a little more of your childhood?”

Her mother had always said that you could learn a lot about someone through their upbringing. She had gleaned a little from Duke Warren, but that had told her very little about his brother.

Lord Baine looked thoughtful. “What would you like to know?”

“Well, what was it like for you growing up? Do you remember much of your parents at all?” Emily asked.

Lord Baine stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I do not remember much about my parents. Just a few things here and there, but I am not sure if they are even real. The memories I mean, I know my parents were.”

“Why do you question your memories?” Emily frowned.

Lord Baine made a vague gesture with his hand, as though he were thinking through his answer. “Not all of them, mostly the ones around my father. For example, I think I remember the sound of his laugh, but then I hear Luke laugh and the sound is identical and I wonder if maybe I am remembering his laugh and not my father’s.”

Emily nodded. “Perhaps it is both? After all, it is only natural that a son should take after his father.”

“I suppose you are right. I think it is more that for me it is impossible to think of childhood without thinking of my brother. Some of my earliest memories are of him.” Lord Baine smiled wistfully.

“Such as?” Emily canted her head towards him.

“The first time I rode a horse, it was not my father with me, but Luke. He was the one who was telling me what to expect, who was reassuring me.” Lord Baine laughed softly to himself as he recalled,“I was so scared, I cannot have been more than six or so, and the horse seemed truly enormous. Though I suppose it might have been a pony, now that I think on it.”

“That would probably have been the most sensible approach. But even a pony would seem huge to a boy of six.” Emily tried to imagine a small, scared boy approaching the largest thing he had ever seen.

“That is true. And I was not particularly tall for my age. Not like Luke. My brother has always stood taller than everyone around him.” Lord Baine gestured with his hand to emphasise the point. “I was actually rather insecure about it, but he told me that where he was tall, he was also just limbs and awkward angles. I was well proportioned, and that even if I remained the shortest man in the land, appearances were the least important thing a man could have.”

Emily found herself imagining a gangly Duke Warren, though even in her imagination the man was still scowling. She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Why am I picturing him?

She forced herself to focus on what Lord Baine was saying.

“And my parents were still alive at the time. When I think back on that day, all I can remember is how proud my brother looked when I rode around the paddock.” He grinned sheepishly. “He acted as though I had achieved something no other boy had ever done. I am sure my parents were proud, but I cannot remember their reactions.”

“I am sure they were very proud of you.”

“I can only assume they were. My parents… Well, they were always kind to me, and encouraged me greatly.” Lord Baine chewed on his bottom lip. “They only ever seemed to have words of support for me.”

Emily watched him, noting the tension in his shoulders, and a hesitant note in his voice. They were always kind to me, not us.

“I suppose it is one of the benefits of being the second son. Far less rests upon my shoulders than the heir presumptive. Once I broke one of father’s favourite lamps, and I thought he would be furious. I ran to Luke and told him, and he promised that father would not be cross at all.” Lord Baine explained.

“A bold promise to make.” Emily replied, thinking of the times she had gotten in trouble for breaking something.

“Indeed. I was so scared that Luke offered to tell him for me. And he must have explained himself very well, because father did not punish me at all.” The relief on Lord Baine’s face, made Emily’s heart twist violently.

He has lived a sheltered life. The Duke’s words came to the forefront of her mind. How much of that sheltered life was because of his brother? Even as a child, he was protecting him.

“I am sure he did an admirable job.” Emily agreed, her realisation fresh in her mind.

“My parents were rather tougher on my brother than they were on me. I know that. My brother always says it was necessary, after all, he was their heir. The future of the dynasty, and they were particularly proud of our lineage.” A shadow crossed Lord Baine’s face. “Which is not to say my parents did not expect a lot of me. They were very clear that I too needed to uphold the family name, but…”

“It was not the same.” Emily offered as Lord Baine trailed off.

“No it was not.” He agreed. “And then they died, and suddenly it was just my brother and me. He was so desperate to do everything right, but he was only thirteen. Even the most seasoned man will make mistakes when he comes into his inheritance, let alone a boy of thirteen!”

Emily nodded. Rose had spoken to her of Alexander’s own struggles when he had come into his own inheritance. He had not been quite as young as Duke Warren, but the pressure had still been enormous.

“That must have been very hard on you both.”

“It was. Though I think it was harder on him.”

“It is one thing to be orphaned and quite another to be orphaned and to inherit a title.”

“And the care of a younger brother. I think in his mind, his responsibility to me was even more important than the estate.” An odd look crossed Lord Baine’s face, but before Emily could ask about it, he continued, “though he never made me feel as though I were a burden or an obligation.”

Obligation. The word struck a chord inside of Emily and she had to fight to keep her voice calm. “Your faith in your brother is rather endearing.”

Lord Baine appeared not to notice the effect his words had had on her, lost in recollection of his brother’s care. “He may not be the most soft person, but he has never once made me feel as though I am his duty. I actually asked him once, if he felt I was a burden.”

“Did you?” Emily could not imagine asking her sisters the same question. What if they said I was?

“I did. And he said that of all the things that felt like a burden, I would never be one of them. It was his choice to care for me first, and his duty second.” Lord Baine smiled at Emily. “The words meant more to me than I could ever say.”

Emily swallowed. “I can imagine.”

What would it be like to know that someone cared for you, simply because you were you? She felt a pang of jealousy in her chest, and shook her head. It was silly to be jealous, especially of people who had experienced such tragedy. I am being ridiculous .

“Though I can imagine that it was not always easy between the two of you. After all, your brother does seem to have rather exacting standards.” Emily cast a sidelong look at Lord Baine.

“He does. Though he never applied them to me. Or at least, not horribly. In truth, I think he holds himself to a far higher standard. That is the person who bears the brunt of his ire.” There was a note of sadness in Lord Baine’s voice as he said it.

“It is hard to watch someone we care about treat themselves harshly.” Emily said, thinking of Duke Warren.

“It is. And though I tried to encourage him to be a little less serious… Well, I did not have much to draw upon in terms of childhood frivolities, and in truth, my interests were rather more bookish than my brother’s.” Lord Baine shook his head.

He was robbed of his childhood. Of course he values propriety above all, it is probably the only road map he has. Emily chewed on her bottom lip, trying to reconcile this softer, more caring version of the Duke with everything she had seen of him thus far.

“I wonder how different your lives would have been if your parents had not passed so unexpectedly and when you were so young.” Emily mused.

“I often think this. In some ways, perhaps it would have been better. In others, perhaps worse. I do not know how much they would have allowed my brother to indulge his childish instincts.”

They did not even let them play games. Emily remembered that neither of the men had known how to play charades. How rigid must their house have been? She pictured long, dark corridors, devoid of children’s laughter and felt something inside her break.

She was so lost in thought, that she stopped paying attention to what she was doing. The mist had been thicker, and as it cleared, Emily realised that she had drifted dangerously close to the edge of the ravine. She tried to correct the horse abruptly, not thinking clearly. She might have been able to soothe the creature, if her movement had not startled a nearby bird from its nest.

The horse let out a shriek and reared upwards. Emily let out her own scream, desperately clinging to the creature. She was dimly aware of shouting, and then the horse was galloping away. Panic took hold of her, driving any sane thought from her mind.

“Help!”