Chapter 7

CHAPTER7

Emily held tightly to baby Joey as she wandered the garden. The rainfall from the night before had left the ground soaked, with the water creeping up the hem of her gown, but she hardly cared. Joey was comfortable in her arms today, his head resting on her shoulder as he snored in his sleep. She walked back and forth with him, over the same paths, and patted him on the back, soothingly.

At least Joey could not judge her for what she had done. There was something comforting in her nephew’s presence this morning, something she longed for, as she glanced back at the house.

Inside, she knew, Daniel was speaking with her father once again. Edward had accepted the explanation of the fallout of the betrothal, with few questions, but evidently Daniel and Rachel had been called back for Edward to discuss other options for Bridget to marry. He clearly feared that scandal may follow Bridget now, as gentlemen might consider her unworthy of marriage.

He often sought Rachel’s good opinion and wise advice in life, and it seemed that Daniel had become an increasingly important confidante to him now too. They were in his study with him, talking at great length, and Emily had been left in charge of Joey.

She hadn’t seen Bridget since breakfast that morning.

“May you grow up wiser than your foolish aunt, dear Joey,” she said softly, cooing in Joey’s ear. “May you be as clever as your parents instead, though they have made their own errors in life. Do not be like me. It is too painful.”

She felt the dull ache in her chest constantly, but it came from a myriad of different sources. She was angry at herself for betraying her sister’s trust. That mixed with the guilt of being the reason Bridget’s betrothal fell apart was enough to make tears spring to her eyes. She kept blinking them away, trying to stop them from falling.

There was another feeling too, lodged deep within her. She tried not to dwell on it, or even examine it in any great detail, but it came back to her.

The Duke of Thorne denied any connection at all between us last night and did not even look at me as he left. He is a true rake.

The thought that the kiss they had shared really hadn’t affected him in the slightest hurt, even when she knew it should not matter.

“Do you intend to walk out here all day?” Bridget’s voice urged Emily to turn around. She found Bridget walking toward her through the garden. “Or have you come walking for Joey’s benefit?”

“I feel as if he is the only one that I haven’t wronged,” Emily murmured, holding him tight. “I like his company.”

“You haven’t wronged anyone.”

“Do not be so benevolent, Bridget, please, I could not bear it.”

“Then here, let me try this instead.” Bridget stepped forward and adjusted the cap on Joey’s head, pulling it tighter around his ears. “Come, let us walk further into the garden, away from the puddles you have been treading through. Joey seems to enjoy being in your arms today.”

Emily managed the smallest of smiles and nodded, turning to follow her sister down a paved path as she stepped off the lawn and out of the puddles. They walked a little distance in silence until Emily could not bear it anymore. Each time she glanced at her sister’s expression she saw the same impassivity she had seen the night before.

“I’m so sorry,” Emily whispered.

“You said that many times last night.” Bridget smiled and looked toward her. “You need not say it anymore.”

“I feel as if I do.”

“What exactly do you have to apologize for?” Bridget asked calmly. “Emily, you met a man at a ball that you were attracted to, a mutual feeling, and you endeavored to think no more about it. Then, when you found him in our house and discovered he was the gentleman that I was to marry, you tried to shut it down. To the point that you and the Duke of Thorne argued in a garden. You both pushed attraction away until it became hatred and threw it at one another.”

“Well… yes.” Emily couldn’t deny that was what had happened. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“It doesn’t make it within your control either,” Bridget said simply and shrugged. “Emily, it was hardly your choice to like the man I was to marry. I can hardly blame you for it. He was handsome, but I felt nothing for him at all.”

“Wait. Nothing?” Emily stalled on the path. She knew before that Bridget had kept saying there was no spark, but she had excused the matter so much as just not knowing the man, Emily hadn’t been certain what to think.

Bridget stopped a few steps ahead of Emily on the path, turning back to face her.

“Nothing.” Bridget shook her head. “He seems able to be polite and nice enough when he wishes to be, and I’d say he was a man that was marrying me out of duty rather than anything else.”

Emily felt sickened, reminded of the way the Duke of Thorne had insisted he was marrying Bridget for the sake of convenience the night before.

“It turns out that is not the sort of man for me after all.” Bridget went on, her tone soft as she stepped back toward Emily.

When Joey made a sound in his sleep, Emily patted his back and Bridget reached forward, adjusting the cap that had become misaligned in their walk once again.

“What kind of sister would I be if I resented you being drawn to a man, Em?” Bridget asked. “No good sister at all.”

“Your kindness is beyond anything anyone else is capable of, sister,” Emily said, a sudden helpless laugh escaping her, though it didn’t last long. “I would not have blamed you for despising me, for attacking me, anything!”

“I have no need to attack you.” Bridget laughed off the idea. “I saw that night when he came for dinner there was something between you. I was prepared for it, so you need not think of me as the wounded individual in all this mess. I can see you have been hurt by all of this, more so than me.”

Emily’s lips parted, startled that Bridget could see the pain she was going through so easily.

“Now, come.” Bridget waved a hand back down the path they had walked down. “If you truly are irked at the way the Duke of Thorne disparaged any hint of a connection between the two of you last night, then I shall endeavor to distract you.”

“You are the best of sisters.”

“Stop praising me so much. You’ll make me vain indeed.” Bridget giggled at the idea. “I have some gifts for Joey. Let us return to the house and give him his gifts once he wakes up.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.” Emily smiled, holding onto her nephew lovingly as they returned to the house. Once they got near, she caught a glimpse of Rachel through one of the windows. She stared out at them, evidently awaiting their return.

Emily halted, her eyes shooting to meet her sister’s gaze through the glass.

“Fear not.” Bridget laid an arm around Emily’s shoulders and steered her forward. “Rachel is not half as disapproving of all of this as you think.”

“Were we not in the same room last night?” Emily asked, remembering the anger in Rachel’s expression. “She’s always said my nature will get me into trouble. I thought mothers were the ones who were always supposed to be right, not sisters that just take on that role.”

“Rachel is hardly ever wrong,” Bridget agreed with a giggle. “Yet she and I spoke for a few minutes this morning. She can see too in the light of day that this mess was not truly of your making. It was accidental.”

Thank God they know nothing of that kiss.

Despite their reassurance, the guilt lingered, for Emily knew she had done more than they thought. If it hadn’t been for that kiss, then maybe Emily would have felt nothing for the Duke of Thorne when she had met him. Either way, it was impossible to undo the past now.

Their meeting in that dark corridor had bound her to him with that shared, exciting memory. No matter what she did, she could not forget that feeling of heat and passion, just as she could not forget the sadness when he had marched away the night before, staunchly refusing to glance back at her.

* * *

“So, are you here to behave tonight?” Seth asked and passed Jacob a glass of brandy.

With a heavy sigh, Jacob took the smallest of sips, fearing just how much the liquor could affect him if he had too much.

“Enough ribbing,” Jacob muttered, earning a deep laugh from Seth. “I’ve had my mother yelling in my ear for the last two days. I do not need you pointing out the error of my ways too.”

“You do not need me to. You know it, regardless. On the contrary, I’m here to distract you.” Seth took his shoulder and steered him around to face the ballroom, so they were no longer looking at the tables stacked high with crystalware.

Distraction, I need that!

When Jacob had explained to his mother that he would not be marrying Lady Bridget after all, Catarina had thrown herself into one of her despairs. He’d called for the doctor, fearing how sick she would make herself, but she had refused to see him.

It started with her rearranging everything she could get her hands on in the house, trying to lay it all out perfectly. Whenever Jacob had come near her, she had reminded him of the promise he had made.

“You are thirty, Jacob. Thirty! Goodness knows what could happen to you after this age. Have you forgotten your father?”

The image of his father came back to him now, laughing deeply, with true happiness in his smile. It was one of the few memories he had of his father.

His mother had raged at him in her anger and despair for a little longer before she returned to her chamber and locked herself inside. Concerned, Jacob had sent for a local healer woman instead, whom his mother plainly trusted more than the doctor. To his relief, Catarina let the woman into the chamber and was comforted by her presence. He didn’t know how long Catarina intended to keep to her chamber, but it was hardly a surprise that she had not come out to the ball tonight.

“Ah, don’t look that way.” Seth angled Jacob around, turning him from looking at one side of the room.

“What? Why not?” Jacob asked, stumbling under the strength of Seth steering him away.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re up to something.”

“I am protecting you.”

“I can look after myself,” Jacob said simply then looked at the part of the ballroom Seth had been attempting to steer him away from. “Ah, I see.”

“See? Knew you’d regret it.”

Under the swathes of cloth that had been tied to the ceiling and the chandeliers overhead, a family entered the ballroom, with the candlelight flickering on the jewelry they wore. The Duke of Elbridge and his wife led the way, with the Earl of Pratt beside them.

Behind them stood Lady Bridget and Lady Emily.

Ah, Lady Emily.

Jacob watched, unashamedly. The family didn’t appear to notice his gaze, for their heads never once turned in his direction. Instead, the Earl of Pratt led his family across the room to gather drinks, and within minutes, the Duke of Elbridge and his wife took to the dance floor to dance the cotillion, leaving the sisters quite alone. Soon enough, the Earl of Pratt wandered off too, talking to gentlemen on the far side of the room.

“Have I become just a blurry shape to you now? Something in the background, perhaps?” Seth waved a hand in front of Jacob’s face.

Jacob started, turning to face his friend and prompting a heavy laugh.

“What?” Jacob said with pretended innocence.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Jacob gulped from his glass, no longer worried about taking it slowly.

“I mean I’ve seen you lust after a woman, yes, but stare so long that you do not even notice I am talking to you?” Seth grimaced. “Hmm, now that is not something you usually do.”

“It means nothing,” Jacob insisted. So what if Lady Emily had gotten under his skin? He could shake her off. He’d left many ladies behind in the past; he had no intention of letting Emily change matters now.

Despite his words, his gaze returned to her, and the moment his eyes flicked away, Seth guffawed.

“I’m beginning to wonder why exactly you are my friend,” Jacob hissed at Seth.

“Because I speak the truth to you.” Seth clapped him on the shoulder and walked around him. “This isn’t going to go away, Jacob. I think you’re going to have to do something about it.”

“Like what?”

Yet Seth didn’t answer him. He merely raised his eyebrows and walked off, waving to a young widow across the room whom he’d been charming for some time. Jacob’s gaze hurriedly returned to Lady Emily, where he saw she was no longer accompanied by her sister. Instead, another gentleman was beside her. He feared at once it would be Lord Gilchrist, but no. This gentleman was young, handsome, and dapper.

Lady Emily smiled so boldly up at him that Jacob’s hand tightened around his glass.

Who is that?

The gentleman touched Lady Emily’s arm. It was such an affectionate touch that Jacob could not compose himself. The pinkening of Lady Emily’s cheeks merely made matters worse. Jacob downed what was in glass, stiffened and made his spine rigid, then he marched across the room toward the pair.

When he grew nearer, he listened to part of their conversation, eager to hear what their conversation was about.

“You are fond of dancing then, Lady Emily?” the gentleman asked, clearly trying to gauge whether she would say yes to his invitation to dance.

“Of course,” she answered eagerly. “Though you may find me a partner that lacks certain skills, I shall smile all the way through.” Her self-mockery had the gentleman laughing.

“I’m sure you do yourself a disservice.” He flicked his fair hair back past his ears and offered his hand, ready to dance with her.

I cannot let this happen.

Without thinking of why it irked him so much, or why he had to stop it, Jacob stepped forward.

“Forgive me, sir, but Lady Emily is engaged for the next two dances.” Jacob stepped to her side and discretely took hold of the dance card on her wrist, making sure it remained closed so the gentleman could not see his name was not written on the card.

“Oh.” The gentleman’s hand fell at his side. He must have known who Jacob was, for his eyes widened.

“I beg your pardon?” Lady Emily rounded on Jacob at once, her head flicking toward him.

“Let us pray it is a dramatic quadrille, shall we?” Jacob said teasingly. “At least then it would be a dance that suits you and me, Lady Emily.”

“But I—”

“I see I have interrupted something here.” The gentleman backed up. “If you would excuse me.” He bowed to Lady Emily.

“Wait, no, Sir Walter,” she said swiftly, trying to get him to stay.

Sir Walter?

Jacob looked at the gentleman with a sneer, knowing now who the man was.

No, he is not good enough for a woman like Lady Emily.

“My apologies,” the gentleman said again, hurrying away and slipping through the crowds. The moment he was gone, Lady Emily turned to look at Jacob, with fire in her eyes.

“You should be thanking me,” he whispered in a low tone, the two of them still standing close together thanks to the grip he had on her dance card.

“Should I?” she said, in a dramatic and over-the-top gasp. “Should I be dropping to my knees and worshipping the ground you walk on?”

“I wouldn’t go that far—” He was cut off as she snatched her dance card out of his grasp.

“Enough.” She barked at him. “What is the matter with you, Your Grace? I was having a perfectly nice conversation with Sir Walter. Why did you interfere when you and I both know you have no intention of dancing with me whatsoever?”

He couldn’t deny it. He scratched the back of his neck, unsure what to say or do now.

“See?” She waved an angry hand at him.

“He is not good enough for you,” Jacob hissed and stepped toward her, glad they stood in the shadows of the room between the standing candelabras. It would be more difficult for the likes of the Duke of Elbridge and the Earl of Pratt to see the two of them together here.

“And you think you know who is good enough for me, do you?” She raised her eyebrows, her disdain evident. “I am not your business, Your Grace.”

“Of course, you are,” he snapped, the words falling from his mouth, “and I could not stand the way that gentleman looked at you just now.”

Wait… what have I just said?