Chapter 3

Callum stared at Lady Emily’s missive. She’d taken responsibility for stepping into the puddle, though not without insulting him in the process. He wasn’t sure what to think about that, but one thing was certain – he’d have liked to tell her the day and hour did not suit. Hell, he’d have liked to inform her that he no longer wished to meet.

Were it not for Peter.

Callum expelled a weary breath, set the missive aside, and went back to eating his breakfast. He would put his constant conflict with Lady Emily behind him for the sake of his ward.

A decision that saw him escorting a very excited Peter toward Hyde Park the following morning. Thankfully, Lady Emily had asked that she and Callum keep some distance from each other. This suited Callum fine. He’d not have to speak with her and would hopefully avoid getting blamed for additional mishaps.

What he didn’t expect, was the hollowness that settled behind his breastbone a half hour later, even as he watched Peter throw a stick for Heidi to chase. The boy cheered and clapped his hands, grinning when Heidi returned the stick to him so he could throw it again. It was marvelous. Callum was thrilled to have found a way to bring him some joy. And yet, there was an underlying sense of wrongness with the world that Callum couldn’t quite place.

He glanced across at Lady Emily, who sat on a bench roughly ten yards away while he leaned against a tree. Of course he’d greeted her and the maid she’d brought with her when he and Peter arrived. Anything less would have been unbelievably rude. But it hadn’t amounted to more than a nod and a tip of his hat since he’d every intention of honoring her request. As such, he’d kept his distance when Peter went to collect the leash Lady Emily held toward him.

She’d dipped her chin in acknowledgement of Callum’s greeting, after which she and Peter had entered the park while Callum and the maid followed behind. The entire situation had felt rather awkward. Something he’d like to avoid if they met again, as Peter had asked that they do as soon as they’d started their homeward trek.

Callum scratched the nape of his neck. Surely there had to be some way for him and Lady Emily to overcome their differences. Knitting his brow, he opened his desk drawer and retrieved the missive she’d sent in response to his own. He unfolded it and read it once more, acknowledging this time that her point was no less valid than the one he’d attempted to make in his missive to her.

They were both responsible for their unfortunate interactions with each other over the years, and in order for them to get past the wariness this had instilled in each of them, they’d have to talk.

With this in mind, Callum placed another piece of foolscap on his desk, dipped his quill in the inkwell, and proceeded to write.

* * *

Emily considered the most recent missive Stratton had sent her with some apprehension. He wanted to meet with her for a private talk, which obviously meant coming into close vicinity of each other. She flattened her mouth while pondering this. Their last outing had gone well enough. Nothing untoward had happened. She’d been fine.

Then again, Stratton had remained at a safe distance throughout the park visit.

Emily tapped the side of her mouth with a finger. She wondered what he wished to discuss. Clearly, something he’d rather say in person than put into writing. Perhaps a matter regarding Peter? Or something else?

She’d no idea. But what she did know was that if she agreed to this rendezvous, there was a good chance she’d end up in yet another sprawl. Or worse.

Then again, she was curious. And besides, it would be unkind of her to deny him when he had insisted it would mean a great deal to him if she would accommodate this wish.

Very well then. But it would be on her terms.

This request saw her seated at one end of a park bench the following afternoon while Stratton sat at the other. Close enough to chat but with enough separation between them to hopefully prevent a calamity. Emily’s maid, Georgina, remained nearby for propriety’s sake, allowing Emily to speak with the duke without being overhead, though for the moment, neither uttered a word.

After greeting each other politely and taking their seats, silence followed. Emily smoothed her skirt over her knees and waited. The leaves from a nearby tree rustled in the breeze. She watched a few people stroll by some distance away – a group of ladies walking their dogs and a husband and wife with their three children.

“You may not believe me when I tell you this,” Stratton finally said. Though his voice was soft, he applied a serious tone that drew her complete attention. “But it has never been my intention to cause you harm. Every accident you”ve been subjected to while in my company, has been precisely that. An accident.”

“As much as I’d like to take your word for that, an accident is something that happens once. Possibly twice. Not every time two people meet.” She shook her head while thinking back. “And besides, you always seemed annoyed with me for some reason. It’s only natural for me to wonder if all the incidents our chance meetings led to were calculated in nature.”

“I can assure you they were not. And if I ever spoke to you curtly, it was only because I allowed your reaction to rile me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“This was wrong,” he hastened to add while angling himself toward her. “You were right to be vexed when our every encounter led to disaster, but your unwillingness to accept my apologies rankled. Especially since I am not the only one at fault. After all, you were there too, reacting to my every move.”

“Go on,” she urged, shivering slightly when a cool breeze brushed the nape of her neck. She didn’t like what he implied, but she wasn’t too proud to concede that one could easily overlook one’s own faults. So if she’d played a part in their unharmonious relationship, she needed to know. Especially if she’d unwittingly wronged him.

“When you and I danced at your debut, you turned the wrong way more than once, causing several of my missteps.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she said, recalling how nervous she’d been that evening. Could it be that he’d felt the same way?

“When I knocked you into the fountain, it was because you happened to move to the right at the same exact moment I turned to the left.”

“I never realized…”

“When we met that one time during our morning rides, your skirt would not have been caught in my stirrup had you remained where you were. But you were impatient to be on your way and started forward too soon while we were too close.”

She swallowed and forced herself to meet his gaze. Was it possible Stratton’s point was valid? Could it be he was not the only one to blame for the various mishaps she had endured while in his company? “What about Vauxhall?”

“Vauxhall, I”ll grant you, was entirely my fault. Since I”m at least partially to blame for the rest, however, and you never allowed me the chance to apologize, I”d like to do so now. Properly. Hence my reason for asking you here.” He paused for a second and when he spoke next, his voice was filled with endless sincerity. “Please forgive me for any bodily harm and embarrassment I may have caused you since our introduction.”

Taken aback by his sudden show of integrity, Emily gazed at him for a moment until the expectant look in his eyes made her blink.

“Of course.” She appreciated the apology and could not avoid the niggling guilt taking hold of her conscience. Even if she had been increasingly frustrated by him and every incident his presence led to, she’d been wrong to deny him the chance to apologize. It had been unkind, she reflected.

“If you”d like to push me into a pond in return, you need only name the time and place.”

She grinned in response to his jovial tone and instantly felt the air between them grow lighter. “That won’t be necessary. And besides, given our history, I’d probably fall in with you.”

He laughed and agreed this might be a likely outcome, which made her smile. A bit of companionable silence followed before she said, “I need to ask your forgiveness too. It appears I’ve been unfair toward you and for that I am deeply sorry. Denying you the chance to apologize was wrong.”

“I could have written to you sooner.”

Deciding there was no point in arguing this, Emily merely dipped her head. When Stratton said nothing further, she eventually stood. “I ought to get home, but I’m glad we had this discussion.”

When he stood too and stepped toward her as though intending to reach for her hand, she retreated, placing herself beyond his reach. He gave her a sheepish grin. “Too soon?”

“Just a little.”

“I’ll wish you a pleasant day then, my lady.”

She echoed the sentiment and departed, accompanied by Georgina.

It pleased her to know she’d made the correct decision in meeting with Stratton. Their conversation had been productive, allowing them to make amends and let bygones be bygones.

Even so, an odd sensation shadowed her all the way home. It almost felt like regret. For six years, she and Stratton had been at odds. Their cat and mouse game had defined every social event she’d ever attended. He’d bothered her to no end. She’d done what she could to avoid him.

There was something strange about that coming to an end. It was almost like the world had fallen off its axis.

Disturbed by this notion, she decided to try and forget the duke altogether by getting on with her day. They’d made no additional plans to meet, which suited her perfectly. Why wouldn’t it? To suppose she was disappointed that he’d not suggested another outing with Heidi and Peter would be absurd.

Besides, with two books left to finish before she could start on the one Ada had brought her, she didn’t have time for dukish pursuits. Plus, Ada, and possibly Harriet, would be coming for tea tomorrow afternoon. It would be nice to get some reading done before then.

“Is everything all right?” Harriet asked her the following day.

She and Ada had arrived roughly twenty minutes ago. Tea had been served along with a tasty lemon cake topped with meringue, and a conversation pertaining to suggestions for the book club’s next monthly read had begun.

“Hmm?” Emily stared at her friend and was shocked when she couldn’t recall the last thing that had been said. All she remembered was Ada mentioning The Vicar of Wakefield, and that was a while ago.

“You seem distracted.” Harriet peered at her with concern. “Is something troubling you?”

“No.” Emily shook her head, reached for her tea, and smiled reassuringly at her friends. She would not let them know that she’d been distracted by a particular duke. “I was merely trying to work out whether or not I should put The Touchstone and Melincourt on hold so I’ll be ready with my review of Seductive Scandal for release day.”

“You’ve always had a first come first served policy,” Ada said. “Please don’t give me special treatment.”

Emily nodded. There was no need to of course. She was a fast reader and knew she’d have all three books read within a couple of weeks. But it had given her the excuse she’d required.

“Right.” Emily sipped her tea. “I think Fanny Burney’s The Wanderer is an excellent choice for the book club’s next novel. Plenty of—”

The door opened after a quick knock and Larrow entered, bringing with him a silver salver. Emily gripped her armrest to keep herself seated. It wouldn’t do to leap from her chair and snatch up the letter Larrow had brought, although she could barely contain her excitement. Was it from Stratton and if so, what did it say?

Her heart raced while a fluttery sort of feeling began taking root in her stomach.

Not wishing for her friends to pry, however, she used whatever superhuman strength she was capable of to maintain her composure. It wasn’t easy to do when she saw the missive was indeed from the duke. Taking it from the salver without looking like she was desperate to know what it said, tested the full extent of her ability to remain calm.

“Thank you, Larrow.” The butler gave a curt nod and departed, leaving Emily with the guilt of wishing her friends would soon leave. All she wanted right now was to run upstairs, lock her bedchamber door, and learn what Stratton had written.

It took another two hours before the chance to do so arose. But as soon as she’d wished her friends a wonderful rest of the day and seen them off, Mama came to ask for her help in choosing the fabric for a new gown she intended to order. This took an additional ten minutes, after which Emily finally managed to find the privacy she desired.

She retrieved the letter from her skirt pocket and stared at her name as though trying to find some hidden meaning within the elegant slant of each letter.

Foolish.

You don’t even like him so why all the fuss?

Annoyed with herself, she scooted into the window seat overlooking the garden, tore the seal, and proceeded to read.

My dear Lady Emily,

Our most recent conversation has made me reflect on a great many things, most notably your refusal to seek the justice you deserve. A lesser person would have leapt at the chance to push me into a pond. By denying yourself, you not only saved me from the humiliation you yourself were subjected to at my hands, but you also showed great consideration toward my clothing, which would without doubt have been ruined.

I hope therefore to extend my thanks. Preferably in person. In my experience, flowers are best delivered that way.

Will you let me stop by?

Callum Davis, Duke of Stratton.

Emily took a sharp breath. She’d grinned in response to his comment regarding his clothing, but then he’d mentioned flowers and to be honest, it felt like she might be blushing. Was that even possible, and if so, how? Stratton had never been charming while in her presence. He’d never attempted to be, as far as she knew. Yet here he was now, offering explanations and apologies, then asking if he might call upon her with flowers.

Her heart fluttered while instinct warned her not to get carried away. This was Stratton. The bane of her existence for six long years.

And yet, she was starting to think she’d misjudged him right from the start. For although she’d always found him too curt, aloof, or seemingly uncaring whenever she’d spoken to him, he showed a great deal of fondness and concern for Peter. She’d seen him console the boy, doing what few fathers would do in public. He’d pulled the boy close and hugged him, which appeared to mean that the man was much more than what he pretended to be.

Either that, or she’d never been given the chance to properly get to know him. Truth was, she’d not really wanted to after the first time they’d danced.

But now?

She sat back. Even if his apology and the flowers he wished to bring were offered solely because of Peter, it occurred to Emily that the sort of man who would go to such lengths on account of a child was rare. He was worth knowing and deserved her full attention.

With this in mind, she retrieved a fresh piece of foolscap and wrote her response.

Dear Duke of Stratton,

You are welcome to stop by whenever you wish. Flowers are always welcome, though I recommend something other than roses since they carry thorns.

Looking forward to seeing you soon.

Lady Emily Brooke.