CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“You are in earnest?”

Emilia nodded, taking her friend's hands as Charlotte smiled happily back at her.

“We are engaged. He is going to speak to Papa. It might even be on the morrow that he does so, but I expect he will wait for Christmas to be over. I am sorry to have deceived you but I hardly could believe it myself. I kept thinking he would renege on it and tell me it was a mistake, but …” The familiar fear threatened to overwhelm her, and Charlotte squeezed her hands.

“The way he looks at you cannot be mistaken.”

Emilia pulled her down onto the bed as they sat beside one another. “And it would be my dearest wish to have you close, too.”

Charlotte gave her an encouraging smile. “I would wish for that too, but nothing is certain.”

“Lord Spencer has hardly spent any time with another member of the party,” Emilia insisted.

“We are both dancing at the edge of true happiness, perhaps, but at least you have some certainty in your future,” Charlotte said wistfully. “Lord Spencer has been most attentive, but he has not spoken of any feeling . He simply looks at me in a way that makes my heart sing.”

“He will tell you. I have no doubt that he will,” Emilia said. “He would not have spent so much time with youand under his mother’s nose, no less, if he did not have intentions toward you. You make such a handsome and beautiful couple.”

Charlotte’s fingers tightened on her friend’s, and she felt the weight of the last few years lift from her shoulders as she met her gaze.

“For so long, I wondered if you would be able to find happiness,” she confessed. “I hate Henrietta Darcy for all of the pain she brought into your life, but perhaps sometimes these things happen for a reason. Without her, you would never have met Lord Bellebrook, and I would never have met Lord Spencer.”

“Fate has a way of playing a hand when it is required,” Emilia said, her eyes shining in a way that was new and infectious. Charlotte grinned.

“Two more days.”

“Two more days, and then it will be Boxing Day, and Lord Bellebrook will speak to my father. I can only pray that Lord Spencer takes the initiative and does the same with yours. I will be the happiest woman alive to have us as part of the same family at last .”

Charlotte had never seen her friend so forward in her desires or her excitement, and she felt a tendril of hope unfurl within her.

***

Frederick wandered through the house, nodding politely to the other guests and trying to keep his feet steady. He truly wished torun through every room and recover the duke immediately, but he could not afford to attract unwanted attention.

As he continued, he smelt the faint hint of tobacco on the air and aimed for it, knowing how much the duke enjoyed his cigars. Upon finding himself outside the parlour room, Frederick stopped, noting that the duke was inside but unwilling to approach him if he were with his daughters.

Frederick leaned as far as he could around the door, seeing to his satisfaction that the room was empty. The duke was sitting with his legs crossed in a low chair, reading the paper, smoke hovering above him like a cloud.

Frederick entered casually, trying to look as though he had not been seeking out the man for the last half hour. The duke nodded to him as he came within his line of sight, and Frederick returned it with a nod of his own.

“Would you object to me joining you, your Grace?” Frederick asked as calmly as possible.

The duke didn’t speak, his eyes still on the paper in front of him, but pointed his cigar at the chair opposite, and Frederick sat down gratefully.

Where to begin… he thought, wondering how he might broach the topic without the duke becoming suspicious of his reasoning.

“Quite the storm,” Frederick said, looking out of the window at the flurries of snow and the high wind. The trees were swaying alarmingly against a background of dark grey sky. The duke dropped one corner of the paper, seeming surprised by the view that greeted him.

“Good Lord, I had not noticed. This will be hellish to travel in; I am glad we are happily ensconced within these walls and will only have to make our way to church in the morning. At least it is a short enough walk.”

He took a great pull of his cigar, and the smoke billowed out all about him. Frederick, who had never enjoyed smoking, held back the urge to cough, clearing his throat instead, and nodded at the duke.

“I have enjoyed this house party,” he said patiently, biding his time. “Lady Sternwood always holds the best events, and I was sorry that they had not held one for a little time.”

The duke’s foot twitched. “Indeed. Well, all of that will be behind them soon enough.”

“Of course, your Grace,” Frederick said swiftly, leaping upon the topic, “I hear that you are close to securing Lady Emilia’s hand. I can only congratulate you. It is an excellent match.”

The duke glanced at him pompously, and Frederick deliberately moved his expression into a frown, furrowing his brows and sighing heavily.

“Is something amiss?” the duke asked.

“Oh no, nothing but the obvious. It will not be a problem after today, as you say.”

The duke finally lowered his infernal paper and gave Frederick a long look. “The obvious?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion, his own brows furrowing.

“I suppose it is inevitablethat a woman so beautiful will have other suitors after all. And all of it will be forgotten by the time you propose.”

He felt a thrill at the colour flooding to the duke’s face. “Other suitors? What are you speaking of man?”

Is the man so obtuse? Frederick wondered. So full of his own self-importance, he has utterly failed to see how much attention Adam has paid to Emilia. What a fool.

“I did not mean to overstep, your Grace. I merely wished to congratulate you.”

“What the devil do you mean, sir? Are you saying she has courted scandal once more? That there is some impropriety here?”

“No. Nothing of that nature. Merely that I have noticed Lord Bellebrook showing her some attention. I suppose it is harmless enough.”

To Frederick’s dismay, the duke seemed to dismiss the idea, shaking his head.

“Adam Bentley has no designs upon anyone. He is in mourning. Flouncing about in grief for all the world to see. It’s pathetic.”

Frederick was surprised that the duke spoke so openly to him—he was also a Bentley, after all, but the duke seemed to be a man who believed that his wealth and status protected him from most things. Whatever the reason, Frederick was glad to be brought into his confidence.

“I only thought it odd, that is all,” he mused, speaking more slowly.

The duke sighed. “Thought what was odd?”

“The length of time they were together on the lake. Almost the entire morning, skating together and he had his arm around her waist.” That finally got the duke’s attention. “And then… at the piano last night, they seemed close. I thought it might have concerned you.” The duke sat forward in his chair, and Frederick took the chance to trivialise his own comments. “I am sorry to have troubled you with it. Clearly, I misunderstood.”

Frederick pretended to get up and stopped immediately when the duke held out a hand, halting him, his eyes sharp and calculating.

“His hand about her waist ?”

“Indeed, your Grace. Lady Emilia would never be so foolish as to court scandal, but sometimes a lady cannot prevent a man from overstepping his bounds.”

The duke rose slowly to his feet, throwing the paper behind him as Frederick waited for the inevitable explosion with suppressed relish.

“That is not to be born. I have an understanding with her father. I was with my daughters for much of the day; I confess I did not see what you described. But I thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

“Of course, your Grace,” Frederick said sweetly. There was a pause that was a little too long for Frederick’s liking as the duke contemplated the carpet beneath his feet, his cigar forgotten between his fingers. “Might I suggest, your Grace, that if you have an understanding with Lord Sternwood, you act upon it forthwith? It is not my place, and I would never presume to tell you how to act, but there have been some comments and gossip over the last few days that have led me to believe it is not only myself that has noticed Lord Bellebrook’s attention.”

The duke’s eyes flashed at that, and he took another long pull of his cigar, blowing the smoke carelessly about him and right into Frederick’s face. It took everything in him not to choke on it.

One more hint, and I think I have him.

“I would not wish to see the great name of Easton courting scandal. If you were engaged to the lady, I am sure this would be cleared up instantly.”

The duke finally stiffened and nodded, stubbing the cigar out on a table behind him and turning back to face Frederick with a look of purpose that the other man welcomed above all things.

“As I say, you have my thanks,” the duke growled. “I had not realised it had reached such a degree. I knew that Bentley had been paired with her a few times over the past week, but I was not under the illusion he had any designs on the woman. She is going to be my wife. Her father has promised her to me. That shall not be put asunder.”

“I am glad to hear it, your Grace.”

“Indeed.” The duke eyed him for a moment, a long look that put Frederick’s teeth on edge, but after a long pause, he gave him a curt nod and left the room.

Frederick watched the duke retreating back, stopping himself from jumping for joy at the success of his plan.

One more push and Adam will lose everything he ever wanted, and that title will be mine.