Chapter 2

Emily hurried toward the park as fast as she could while Heidi kept pace with her much shorter legs. It was imperative that she add distance between herself and the Duke of Stratton. She should have known that standing near him would be a mistake. Had any other gentleman tried to help her, their foot would never have landed on top of hers

She winced in response to the pain she still felt. Her shoes were made from thin leather and her toes had been crushed beneath his full weight. Checking the street and finding it empty, she crossed toward the park entrance.

Had it not been for him, she would have invited Peter to visit so he could spend more time with Heidi. Emily wasn’t sure who the boy was or why he was walking with Stratton. As far as she knew, he had no son. Illegitimate or otherwise. And since he had no siblings, the boy could not be his nephew either. Which left few options. In Emily’s estimation, Peter was either a distant relation or Stratton’s ward.

She slowed her movements while pondering this and gave Heidi a little more leash so it was easier for her to sniff the ground. Peter’s expression had been solemn. Too solemn for any child. Of course, he might just be temporarily in Stratton’s care while the parents travelled.

Curious, she pondered these various possibilities while continuing through the park. Stratton had never struck her as a family man, so it was interesting to see him assuming a father figure of sorts. In her experience, he’d always been a bit of a rogue – the sort of man who flirted with every woman without ever courting a single one.

Handsome, titled, and seemingly well-poised, he appeared the perfect candidate for England’s most eligible bachelor. When seen from afar, that was. Up close, he was an utter disaster. At least from her point of view.

They’d met six years earlier when she’d made her debut. She’d been sixteen and he’d been eighteen, according to Debrett’s. It made sense to look him up after returning home from that hellish evening, if for no other reason than to find out who she was dealing with.

Her parents had introduced them. Stratton had mumbled something about a dance and she had agreed to partner with him. After all, he’d been a duke’s heir and she had to admit she’d thought him rather dashing. It was unlikely he’d been similarly impressed by her, for rather than showing excitement, or even a tiny hint of pleasure, he’d looked like he might be sick. A curt nod had followed and then he’d stormed off.

He”d not appeared again until two hours later when it was time for their set. Her interest in partnering with him had been much reduced by then, and it vanished completely when he stepped down on her feet. Not once, twice, or even thrice, but a grand total of thirteen times, leaving her toes so achy and swollen she’d had to sit for the rest of the evening.

One might forgive such an occurrence, and she had. Not everyone was equally gifted when on the dance floor. She herself had struggled with her instructors, so she sympathized. What she did not expect was for it to be the first incident in a series of many.

Keeping to the shorter path that led to the left, she continued walking while Heidi occasionally stopped to sniff. When the dog lingered too long, Emily gently pulled on the leash and the two continued.

Not counting today, she had encountered Stratton on five additional occasions during the last six years. Each had left her increasingly certain that he was best avoided. He must have felt the same way, for they managed to steer completely clear of each other for nearly a year before crossing paths at the Farthington’s ball last week.

The fall their encounter had led to was so incredibly typical, she ought to have seen it coming. It was no different from when he’d turned while attempting to move a chair, only to use said chair to knock her into a fountain. There was also the time he had been carrying two large glasses of punch through a crowded room. She’d been coming toward him from the opposite side, their eyes had met, and he’d promptly tripped, spilling the punch all over the front of her white gown.

She also recalled him rushing to help her once when she’d dropped her dance card. Only she’d bent to pick the card up first, bringing her head immediately under his. Not knowing how close he’d come, she’d risen, knocking her head against his so hard her teeth had rattled.

And then there was the time when he’d happened upon her in the park. They’d both been out riding and he’d pulled his horse alongside hers, as one does when one meets an acquaintance and tries to be polite.

Except, he somehow managed to get his stirrup caught in her riding habit. How such a thing was possible she’d never know, but the fact remained that as he rode off, she was pulled from her mount. The only blessing was that it was early morning and that no one besides her groom had borne witness to the embarrassing ordeal.

Finally, there was the Vauxhall Garden incident.

She shuddered.

Her only wish had been to have a nice outing with her parents. But he’d been there. Ready as always to ruin everything for her.

She and her parents had gathered to watch the cascade – the waterfall spectacle Vauxhall was so renowned for. The moment she’d seen Stratton approach, she’d moved closer to where her father stood. Unfortunately, Stratton had not seemed the least bit deterred by this. He’d simply waited for the show to end before asking Papa for permission to have a private word with his daughter.

Looking back, Papa had likely believed the conversation would lead to a courtship. He’d allowed it without hesitation, provided Stratton and Emily stayed within view. Stratton had agreed and led Emily farther along the path, to a more secluded spot.

He’d told her how happy he was to see her again and that she looked lovely. All while keeping his gaze on anything other than her. He’d fumbled with something in his pocket and once he retrieved it, he’d launched into a lengthy apology relating to the horse-riding incident. She’d barely understood one word since he kept on losing his focus, interrupting himself and muttering, wrestling with the item he’d found in his pocket.

It turned out to be a box of cheroots. He’d offered her one but she’d declined.

“I accept your apology,” she’d told him, watching him strike a flint and light his cheroot. “Accidents happen.”

He’d met her gaze and something in his eyes drew her nearer. The smile that followed had been so charmingly bashful she’d rather wished things might have been different between them. But then he’d said, “Unfortunately, you seem to be particularly bad luck for me.”

The statement, spoken with an underlying hint of irritation, had set her back on her heels. She was bad luck for him? If anything, it had to be the other way around. She’d spun away without saying a word, too angry with him to speak. Except he’d leapt around her as if attempting to stop her from leaving, but in doing so, he’d brushed the cheroot he held between his fingers against her swirling skirts.

Emily hadn’t even realized what had happened at first. It was Mama who’d called to her about smoking. She’d shaken her head, insisting she wasn’t, only to realize her gown had caught fire.

Since then, she’d been very careful to avoid the Duke of Stratton at all costs.

Still, she felt bad for Peter. It had seemed as though walking Heidi would likely have given him joy. Emily was sorry to have denied that, even if she’d done so for a good reason.

She sighed and started her homeward trek. With the Season well and truly over except for the occasional party, avoiding Stratton for the rest of the year should not be too hard.

Much to her surprise, she realized she was wrong to suppose such a thing when a letter arrived that evening immediately after supper. She was having tea with her mother in the parlor when Larrow, the butler, brought it to her on a silver salver.

“From the Duke of Stratton, my lady.”

Emily stared at the missive, half afraid to touch it in case the duke had somehow managed to poison it. She’d not put it past him.

“Go on,” said Mama. “Take it.”

Emily took a deep breath and picked up the letter. It had been neatly folded and sealed with a shiny blob of crimson wax bearing the Stratton insignia. A bold script on the front bore her name.

Much to Emily’s astonishment, her heart began beating slightly faster. She fiddled with the paper while taking deep breaths in an effort to steady her pulse.

“Aren’t you going to read it?” Mama asked while refilling their teacups.

Emily nodded. The room felt uncomfortably hot all of a sudden. “Of course.”

She tore the seal as carefully as she could so she might preserve it, and unfolded the paper.

Dear Lady Emily,

I hope this letter finds you well. Hopefully, your toes have recovered from the brutality they were subjected to this afternoon, although to be fair, I wouldn’t have stepped on them, had you been more aware of your surroundings. But since I did do the stepping, I’d like to extend an apology, though this is not my only reason for writing.

While I realize our history has not been the best, I am hoping you will set it aside long enough to consider my humble request. What I ask, is for Peter to be allowed to spend additional time with Heidi. However inconvenient this may be for either of us, that dog is the first thing to capture his interest since his parents died. I cannot in good conscience ignore that and pray you won’t either.

In anticipation of your response,

Callum Davis, Duke of Stratton.

Emily re-read the letter three times while trying to figure out what to make of it. She wasn’t sure whether she ought to feel vexed, touched, or slightly afraid. His suggestion that she was equally to blame for him stepping upon her toes was beyond the pale. But then he’d mentioned Peter’s response to Heidi and Emily’s heart had melted. She wanted to accommodate Stratton’s request, but she also feared doing so might cause her additional harm.

“Well?” Mama asked. “What does he say?”

“Nothing much,” Emily lied. She refolded the letter and tucked it inside her skirt pocket. “He merely wished to apologize for setting my gown on fire that one time.”

She would not mention today’s interaction with him since she had no wish to answer whatever questions it might lead to. As far as her parents knew, there had only been the one mishap concerning her gown, which was also the worst one by far. But they’d been completely unaware of the rest. Each time an incident had occurred, she’d made an excuse, leaving Stratton’s name out of it. No one saw what had happened and she’d deliberately chosen to save him from the humiliation.

Frowning, she now wondered at that decision.

“But that was ages ago,” Mama said. “As I recall, he begged our forgiveness when it happened.”

“Yes.” It was the only time he’d managed to say he was sorry, and only then because her parents were present. Had they not been, she would have cut him off as she usually did and asked him to leave her alone. She sighed. Maybe she wasn’t as kind as she thought herself to be.

She glanced at Mama. “Do you mind if I retire? I’m feeling a little tired.”

“By all means. Get some rest, Emily. You mustn’t linger on my account.”

“Thank you.” Emily went and pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

When she arrived in her bedchamber, Emily rang for her lady’s maid, Georgina, to help her change into a nightgown and comb out her hair. Once this had been done and Georgina had left, Emily put on her dressing gown, then took a seat at her desk.

The letter from Stratton lay before her, demanding a response.

She took a deep breath and collected a crisp piece of foolscap. After dipping her quill in her inkwell, she took a moment to gather her thoughts before writing,

Dear Duke of Stratton,

I thank you for your letter, which was well received. While I will admit stepping into that puddle was no one’s fault but my own, my toes would not have been squished had you remained where you were. I did not require your aid but appreciate your apology. As for your request, I would like to do what I can to make Peter happy, though I do have a small request in return – that you and I maintain a safe distance apart at all times. If this suits, please bring Peter to Hyde Park tomorrow so he and Heidi can play. I’ll be at the entrance, ten o’clock sharp.

Lady Emily Brooke