Chapter 4

CHAPTER4

Eliza appeared at Emma’s side, not paying attention to the dark gleam in the duke’s eyes or the roguish smile that was still gracing his lips. She pulled Emma roughly away from the dance floor, and all Emma saw was the duke leisurely nodding at her before she took in the wolves of society around him. Wolves that were once again out for her blood.

The bubble of their waltz had well and truly popped.

“Do not look at them,” the older woman hissed. “Keep your chin up, do not give them the satisfaction of seeing you waver.”

Too stunned and dizzied to offer any resistance, Emma allowed herself to be ushered away from the scowling, spitting, resentful crowd. She did not know how she was putting one foot in front of the other when her mind and body seemed to be on different continents, but soon enough she felt the cool nip of the night air, bringing her back to her senses.

“Are you well?” a different voice asked.

Emma glanced at the woman who had appeared on her other side, weaving her arm through hers. “Marina? I… did not know that you would be here.”

“I arrived not long ago,” Marina said kindly. “Just in time for your… most unfortunate dance, in truth.”

Marina was Eliza’s only daughter and, for a time, it had seemed like the two women might forever be alone together—a spinster and a widow—but love had found Marina, in the form of Jasper Armitage, the Duke of Lymington.

Indeed, it had become something of a jest in society that if a lady desired a union with a duke, then all they needed to do was be related to Eliza in some capacity, for her daughter and both of her nieces were now duchesses.

“Unfortunate?” Emma croaked out. “For him, perhaps, but…”

She held her tongue, realizing that she was in no position to declare that the waltz she had just experienced might have been the most exhilarating moment of her life.

“No, Emma,” Marina interjected with a vigorous shake of her head and a cross glance at her mother. “Mama, where were you? You should have prevented this! Joanna is already beside herself with worry. Jasper is with Edwin now, trying to calm her down, and I would have joined them if that dance had not halted me in my steps.”

Emma’s eyes stung with barely restrained tears. “I did not mean to cause any trouble. Really, I did not.” She gulped. “One moment, I was speaking with Marcus, and the next… I was waltzing. I still do not know how I got from one moment to the other.”

Meanwhile, Eliza looked somewhat sheepish. “I was seeking refreshment. She was out of my sight for a matter of minutes, Marina. Do not scold me as if I am a child. It was a mistake, but nothing I cannot remedy.”

“You promised me you had changed,” Marina said sadly, clicking her tongue. “You promised me you had calmed your impulse to imbibe.”

“I have!” Eliza barked, folding her arms across her ample bosom. “I was just seeking lemonade for myself and Emma, so she would have something to busy her hands with. I did not think, not for a moment, that the Duke of bloody Hudson would ask her to dance in the two minutes I was away! Indeed, when was the last time anyone saw him dance?”

Emma felt compelled to defend her godmother. “She is telling the truth, Marina. She left me for just a few minutes.”

“And, as she well knows, a great deal can happen in just a few minutes,” Marina remarked with a heavy sigh. “It will be in the scandal sheets tomorrow. Not even you can stop that, Mama.”

Eliza sniffed. “I already have.”

“Impossible,” Marina replied.

“I had a choice,” Eliza explained. “I could either stride forward and pull Emma out of the dance, or I could use that precious time to speak with… an associate. I chose the latter. There will be no story in tomorrow’s scandal sheets.”

Emma pressed a hand to her heart. “Are you certain?”

“I am as certain of this as I am of Lord Bolam having three mistresses though he is as repugnant as a particularly warty toad,” Eliza replied. “I swore to protect you, Emma. I meant it.”

Marina hissed out a strained breath. “Well, Mama, you did not do a very good job of protecting her from the Duke of Hudson.”

“Your scandal, Lady Emma, cannot be greater than mine,” he had said before they parted. Was that why Eliza and Marina were flapping so feverishly? What had the man done, exactly? Emma was about to ask, but Marina was already explaining.

“He has been the talk of society all season and it is not favorable gossip,” she said. “He has been away from society for at least a year and no one knows why or where he has been. The rumors might turn out to be worse than the truth, of course, but… he has always been strange. Not quite right.”

Eliza nodded. “The most handsome gentlemen are always the most dangerous. It is the law of nature. The beauty lures you in, and then they pounce, preying upon you.”

“Do you know something?” Emma asked outright, for Eliza was feared in society for a good reason: there was nothing she did not know about anyone and everyone’s private business. Her web of spies ran deep, and no one was safe from the vault of knowledge in her mind.

Eliza pursed her lips. “I know annoyingly little about where he has been. All I do know is that he vanished a year and a half ago, without a trace, and then reappeared six months ago after his father’s death. Gone for a whole year, then he hid himself away in his estate for another half a year, refusing to show his face! Until now, of course. It is… bizarre!”

“And before that?” Emma pressed, eager to know more about the man with whom she had danced.

“A wretched rake,” Eliza spat. “The worst kind. Would burn through every debutante in a season if he wanted to, and did burn through many a debutante before he vanished. I do not mind saying it—there was plenty of relief when he disappeared. That is why his reappearance has made society’s mothers so uneasy.”

Marina nodded in agreement. “I heard a rumor that the father of one of those poor young ladies abducted him and imprisoned him, and that he did… unspeakable things in order to liberate himself. Cruel things.”

“Lord Jedburgh was found dead under mysterious circumstances at around the same time,” Eliza mused, seemingly more to herself than to her niece or goddaughter. “His middle daughter fell victim to the Duke of Hudson just before he went missing. I wonder…”

Marina huffed out a breath. “Do not meddle, Mama. Let us concentrate on Emma.”

“I can do both,” Eliza replied with a sly grin. “As for you, Emma—all you need do is stay away from that viper. He will do your reputation no favors, and though I admit that tonight was unfortunate, it can be fixed. It can all be fixed. Just trust in the magic touch of your godmother.”

Emma relaxed a little. “I do, Eliza.”

Though I cannot say that I regret that one dance.

Emma was not bold enough to add this, knowing it would run through her night dreams and daydreams, long after they left the ball.

“Marina!” a frantic voice cut through the still night air, as a figure burst out onto the terrace.

Marina turned in alarm. “Jasper? Is everything well? You look as if you have seen something horrific!”

“It is Joanna,” Jasper replied. “She has fainted. She cannot be awoken. Edwin is sending for the physician as we speak, but neither of us knew where Nancy was. I thought you might know. She must be sent for, to help her sister.”

Guilt roiled in Emma’s stomach. So much chaos and upset, and it was all because of her.

“I will tend to it at once,” Marina said, running off with her husband.

Emma leaned back against the stone balustrade that bordered the terrace, feeling sick. A moment or two later, she realized that she was going to be sick, as all of the nerves and the guilt and the fear and the dread that had swollen inside her finally crested, surging up her throat.

“Excuse… me!” she blurted, hurrying down the steps and behind the low terrace wall, where she promptly ducked and ejected the meagre contents of her stomach.

Eliza peered over the lip of the balustrade. “Get it all out, my dear,” she encouraged. “You will feel better for it.”

“Might I… have something… to drink?” Emma coughed, her throat raw with acid, as her stomach lurched again. “Something… sweet.”

Eliza hesitated. “Do not move. Stay exactly where you are. I will be no more than two minutes. Promise me you will not find yourself in a waltz with an unseemly gentleman. And do not tell Marina I left you unchaperoned again.”

“I promise,” Emma wheezed, dragging a handkerchief from her reticule to dab at her lips. She felt green, her skin slicked in a cold sweat that only got colder as the night wind chilled it.

With that, Eliza disappeared, leaving Emma to the privacy of the garden shadows and the unfortunate patch of begonias that had become the target of her unsettled stomach.

A short while later, Emma felt strong enough to stand. With her back to the terrace, she lifted her chin up to the starry sky and closed her eyes to the cooling breeze, letting it wick away the heat and discomfort of her fleeting nausea.

Footsteps sounded on the flagstones behind her, then veered left, heading down the steps into the garden.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Eliza had returned as quickly as she had promised. No harm had befallen her goddaughter and, very soon, Emma would taste the sweet, necessary refreshment of tart lemonade to settle her stomach.

“A woman who leaves two grooms standing at the altar must be a woman who knows how to have fun,” a slimy voice drawled, the footsteps edging closer. A man’s voice.

It was not Eliza returning, after all, and Emma realized, far too late, that she was practically pinned against the wall. Trapped, as the banister of the steps hemmed her in on the right, while a low, dividing wall cut off her exit to the left.