Chapter 5

CHAPTER5

“Today, everything will be as it should be,” Jacob spoke to himself as he walked into Almack’s Assembly Rooms. His mother was not accompanying him tonight, for she had said she wished Jacob to spend time alone with his betrothed, so they could get to know one another properly.

That means forgetting her sister.

Jacob was completely resolved to forget Lady Emily and think only of Lady Bridget. He would not be defying his mother’s promise now, not when he had already turned thirty. He intended to see it through.

Striding into the assembly rooms, he soon saw a face he recognized well. Seth was standing in a corner, talking sweetly with a young lady who seemed intent on giving him her attention. When Jacob caught his eye, Seth made his excuses to the lady and hurried over.

“Thank God you are finally here.” Seth flicked his head, the dark blond hair dancing away from his forehead. “This assembly has been rather dull.”

“You seemed to be enjoying it,” Jacob nodded at the young lady.

“You know our rules.” Seth winked and laughed. “Fun to flirt with, but we would not compromise a lady’s reputation now, would we?”

“No, indeed.” At the words, a face shot into his mind. He thought of Lady Emily and the way he had kissed her in that dark corridor.

Maybe I’ve bent the rules a little.

“Speaking of dull times, I’ve got a story to entertain you.” Jacob took his friend’s shoulder and steered him to a corner. He and Seth knew each other’s secrets. There was scarcely a thing they did not tell one another, so Seth knew all about Jacob’s betrothal to Lady Bridget.

Once they were secluded, both with brandies in their hands and hiding in a corner, he revealed his misdemeanor with Lady Emily. Unfortunately, it had the opposite reaction from what he intended. Seth tipped back his head and roared with laughter.

“Remind me again why you’re my friend,” Jacob muttered darkly.

“Because you and I are so alike,” Seth reminded him and chinked their brandy glasses together. “To breaking the rules, eh?”

“I can’t drink to that. Not now.” Jacob put the brandy glass down on a ledge nearby. “Seth, can’t you see the mess I have gotten myself into here?”

“What does it matter if you have resolved to forget what passed between you and Lady Emily? You can apologize to her and move on,” Seth said, with surprising calmness. “The only thing that would be stopping you is a suggestion that in fact you do not wish to forget what passed between you, eh?”

Jacob didn’t reply. Suddenly, he wanted that brandy glass back and reached for it again.

“I thought as much.”

“Seth, this is not helping.”

“Oh, I think I’m a great help to you,” Seth smiled, making the cropped beard on his chin shift. “I’m helping you see that your misdemeanor might not be as easy to brush under a rug as you think.”

“I thought friends were supposed to tell each other such ridiculous pleasantries as ‘everything will be all right,’” he muttered as he sipped his brandy.

“Some friends, but true friends are honest,” Seth said, that smile becoming strangely somber. “If you cannot forget it, Jacob, then there must be a reason for it.”

Jacob looked up, angered by the words. The only reason he was struggling to forget it was the fact that the kiss had been so good. The moment had been a thrill, yes, but ordinarily he would have been able to forget it. Lady Emily being Lady Bridget’s sister was the thing that made her impossible to forget.

“Time to straighten your face and look more serious, Jacob,” Seth clapped him on the shoulder. “Your future brother-in-law is coming this way.”

Jacob looked around as Daniel Warren, the Duke of Elbridge, approached. They’d moved in the same circles for some time, and though they had been distant friends, they’d not been excessively close. Jacob had put it down to the fact that the Duke of Elbridge had spent much of his adult life as a soldier. They hadn’t had the time to become any closer as friends.

“Your Grace, how are you?” The Duke stopped at his side and bowed. “Lord Ramsbury, I didn’t see you there. You drunk already?” he teased knowingly and gestured at the glass in Seth’s hand.

“Give me another and I shall be,” Seth said with a laugh. “How does married life suit you, Your Grace?”

“Surprisingly well.” It seemed to be an honest answer, one that Jacob noticed from the twitch of the Duke’s lips and the way he smiled. “Though I think my wife will be glad when our son starts sleeping through the whole night.”

“Of course, you are a father now,” Jacob smiled at the thought, thinking of children.

I promised to have children, and I will.

It was hardly unusual for him to imagine what those children would be like, but he was always terrified of becoming too attached. Who knew what the future held, and what would become of them all. After all, his father had died when he was just thirty-five years of age. Jacob had barely had the chance to know his father.

“I am,” the Duke of Elbridge smiled warmly, “and if he grows up with my wife’s mind rather than my own, then he will be fortunate indeed. Speaking of which,” the Duke paused and leaned toward Jacob, “my wife and her sisters are waiting on your company, I believe.” He nodded across the assembly rooms.

Jacob followed that gesture, looking toward the ladies. He only saw the Duchess of Elbridge and Lady Bridget, but Lady Emily was nowhere to be seen. He found himself searching for her, in vain.

“Do not leave your betrothed waiting too long,” the Duke said encouragingly then patted him on the shoulder.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Jacob forced a smile. As the Duke turned and walked away, the smile slipped, and Jacob turned to face his good friend. “I’m appalling, aren’t I?”

Seth sniggered, not quite agreeing with or denying that statement.

“You were looking for the sister, were you not?” Seth said, plainly having seen what Jacob had done.

“No more of this.” Jacob looked away and put down his glass, making up his mind. He had to go and see Lady Bridget, he had to.

That kiss with Lady Emily must be forgotten.

“Good luck,” Seth whispered before Jacob left and headed straight to Lady Bridget.

He greeted the ladies warmly and invited Lady Bridget to dance. The whole way through the dance, not a word was passed between them, nothing of the kind, and there were merely occasional polite smiles. Without a single spark of attraction between them, Jacob struggled.

“Well, I apologize I am not a finer dancer,” Jacob said in full honesty to Lady Bridget as they stepped off the floor and he led her away. “I would have liked to have seen you smile fully, My Lady.”

“I am the one who should apologize. For some reason, I find myself out of sorts.” Lady Bridget avoided looking him in the eye. “If you would excuse me for a minute, I will return soon.” She curtsied and swiftly left him. Her presence was like a passing breeze. She was gone, leaving no other mark of having been there.

He was beginning to suspect his presence was just as dull to her.

“We are not a good match,” Jacob confessed aloud, though no one else was around to hear him.

Despite his determination not to look for Lady Emily, he did regardless. At last, he caught sight of her across the room. Her blonde hair was curled exquisitely once more, and she had worn a dark red gown. It may not have been the height of fashion, but she made it work indeed and more than one gentleman looked toward her, including Lord Gilchrist, who seemed to be following her.

Lady Emily took evasive action and spilled a glass of wine on Lord Gilchrist’s shoes. Jacob hid his laughter behind a hand, watching as Lady Emily dropped a handkerchief, pretending to assist Lord Gilchrist with the mess, whereas she really was providing a distraction for her escape. As Lord Gilchrist bent down to use the handkerchief to mop up the mess, Lady Emily hurried for a door in the ballroom that led outside into the garden.

Without thinking much of what he was doing, Jacob followed her.

I have to talk to her again.

He slipped out, being careful to look around over his shoulder, and ensure no one noticed him leave. Striding out across the garden, he caught sight of a group of ladies standing by the edge of a patio. Like gaggling geese, they tittered and gossiped, laughing behind the fans they raised to their lips.

Lady Emily was not amongst them, but he caught sight of the silk of her red gown slipping between two tall, towering statues that guarded a path deeper into the garden.

Jacob was careful to make sure none of the gossiping ladies watched him, then he took off in pursuit of Lady Emily. The gravel path grew thinner, then bent around a corner of yew bushes and opened out into a small courtyard. On either end were two marble benches and in the middle was a short statue of a cherubim figure, holding onto a bow and arrow that was pointed at the sky.

“Are you following me?” Lady Emily’s voice made him spin around.

* * *

Emily could not believe the Duke of Thorne had dared to follow her, yet he stood unashamedly in this courtyard, a single brown eyebrow raised as he looked at her. When his eyes danced over her, her stomach knotted. She tried not to like that look.

It seems my body is betraying my mind.

In an effort to put distance between them, she walked forward from the shadows of the courtyard, looking at him warily, then dropped down onto one of the two benches.

“Perhaps,” The Duke of Thorne answered her. His smile was momentary. Rather than following her, he sat down on the other one, so that they stared at each other, over the statue. “You and I need to talk.”

“Why do we?” She stiffened, her gaze darkening. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I would have thought after what passed you would agree it is best that we do not talk at all. We should certainly not be alone.” She gestured to how alone they were in this courtyard.

Why am I not running back to the ballroom?

“You could leave and return.” He nodded at the path then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, something of a knowing smile in his expression. “Yet you are not going anywhere.”

“Lord Gilchrist is back there,” she said exasperatedly.

“You avoided him quite expertly just now. Smooth indeed.”

“Evidently not or I would not be hiding in a garden in your company.” She spoke in challenge, hoping that she would drive him away.

The further away from the Duke of Thorne I stay, the better. He is to marry Bridget!

“Hmm, something tells me you do not dislike my company half so much as you pretend to.” That smirk of satisfaction was there again. She groaned at his expression and looked away.

“Please leave,” she begged.

“I cannot. We must talk.”

“About what?”

“About your sister.” His words captured her attention now, and she looked back at him, over the arrow the statue held.

“You do not deserve her.” Emily found the words slipping from her lips. Slowly, she stood. “My sister has the most benevolent heart in this world.”

“I daresay you’re right.” He met her gaze, though he didn’t stand, giving her the superior height. “I shall break off the betrothal.”

“Good!” Emily said, then spun around in a perfect circle. “Wait, what did you say?”

“I shall break it off.” He shrugged, as if it was no great matter. “I was determined to marry, Lady Emily, but even I can see that what I have done already is a betrayal of her trust.”

“Beyond that. It was abominable!” Emily rounded the cherubim and came face to face with the Duke, standing before him. “I would never let my sister marry a man that was off kissing another when he should have been meeting her.”

“I didn’t even know her.” He suddenly matched her tone in sharpness, and he stood, towering over her with his greater height. “I didn’t know you, nor her, and I was marrying purely for convenience. So, what I choose to do in my spare time outside of my marriage is hardly any business of yours, Lady Emily.”

“Not my business!?” she spluttered as he walked away from her, rounding the bench. Emily followed him, uncertain why she did it, but she couldn’t stand him turning his back on her. “That was my sister you were betraying, and with me, and yet it is not my business? Do you realize how mad that sounds? You were to marry her.”

“It was intended as a marriage of convenience.” He turned sharply back to face her. “I do not ever intend to marry for love or give my heart to any woman, so no, I hardly thought of hearts when agreeing to marry your sister.”

“Cold and callous indeed.”

“That is hardly cold, but practical.” He stood tall over her once again. Everything in Emily knew she should be retreating, but she could not. She was too angry, too full of fury for him. “Not everyone marries because of devotion, Lady Emily. You must know that.”

“My sister deserves respect, respect that she evidently is not going to get from you.”

“What more do you want from me?” He held his arms open wide. “I have just agreed to break off the betrothal from her.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“Then our business is at an end,” Emily said sharply, moving her hands to cross her arms over her chest. “You have no reason to be out here anymore, and you shall leave me to my peace.”

“Shall I?” he asked, his eyebrows arching once more.

“Yes!”

They both fell silent, staring at one another, mirroring each other’s positions with their arms folded.

Say something, you fool!

Yet Emily merely continued to stare, aggravated that he was so handsome even when he was angry. She told herself she hated him, yes, that’s what this feeling was. After all, it was the only thing that made sense.

“I wish to be alone,” she broke the silence between them eventually.

“Then go and find your own peaceful spot.”

“I was here first!”

“Peaceful indeed, eh?” he teased her sardonically, that challenging look still in his eyes. “Look, you have what you wanted from me, Lady Emily, so you can be the one to leave. I will not marry your sister.”

“You said it was to be a marriage of convenience.”

“Yes, are we now to repeat the whole of our argument? Is that what you want from me?” he asked, holding his arms out once more.

“You said you could never marry with your heart.” She spoke his words back to him, quickly, noting there seemed to be something he was avoiding speaking of.

“Yes.” He said no more.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why would you never marry the choice of your own heart, Your Grace?” she asked. When he said nothing, but continued to stare back at her, the air grew tense between them. She felt the corner of her lips turning up into the smallest of smiles. “Have I alighted on a secret?”

“No.” He took a step toward her, coming so close that they were almost as near as they had been the night they kissed. It would have been easy to kiss him now, to transgress once again, but she held herself back, knowing how awful a betrayal that would have been. “Most marriages are for convenience. They are not what it says in the romantic books you no doubt are fond of reading—”

“You are fond of disparaging, it seems.”

“I speak the truth. I am practical,” he said sharply. “I give myself to many women, not just one.”

“Oh, and those women are so fortunate, are they not?” she said with full sarcasm, finding her hatred building. “To have a minute of your time. Oh! Fortunate us!” She threw her hands into the air as if she was praising God.

“You seemed to enjoy my time the other night—”

“We agreed not to speak of that again.” Emily raised a hand, stopping him before he said anymore.

They had been arguing so much that Emily hadn’t noticed the snap of a twig underfoot, though she registered the Duke looked away.

“Shh,” he said.

“I will not be silenced like a lapdog!”

“Emily!” Another voice joined them suddenly, the voice booming.

Emily looked around, her eyes darting to the bearer of that voice. Standing at the entrance to the courtyard was Daniel. He looked between them, his eyes sharp and unblinking.

Oh no… we are discovered, alone and arguing, unchaperoned!

“Your Grace,” the Duke of Thorne began.

“Do not say a word,” Daniel’s voice was deathly dark as he spoke between gritted teeth. Behind him, two more appeared in the courtyard, a few steps behind. It was Rachel and Bridget.

The way they both looked at Emily left her pinned to the spot, longing for the patio to open up beneath her and swallow her whole. Rachel’s frown was unlike anything Emily had ever seen before and Bridget’s expression was completely unreadable.

God’s wounds. What will my sisters think of me now?