Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

W ith a sigh of relief, Emily dropped the gossip pamphlet on her bed. This Lady Whetstone was infamously quick with her reports, and Emily had been waiting impatiently for the next release. She only had to be sure her name was not mentioned with an ounce of suspicion. Thankfully, it was all very tame, at least in comparison to others whose names had been dragged in the mud. The only mention of the marriage was that it was small, which suited any ward of the Undesirable Duke, but that otherwise she and her husband made a charming pair.

That line made Emily snort. Thankfully, this Lady Whetstone knew nothing of the truth.

With the knowledge that her reputation was safe, Emily picked up a book that she had been trying to read for the last half hour before the gossip rag arrived. The book's contents were hardly riveting enough to distract from her current situation, that of being a new wife with a new husband in a new house. The book waxed poetic about falling in love and the joys of springtime, but the world did not appear so to Emily. In fact, it made her quite cross. Outside her window, the city of London was drab and cold without a trace of spring in sight. And though she'd had hopes of romance before, it seemed as if the book mocked her aspirations, for her husband would provide anything but that.

A knock sounded at her door. "Who is it?" Emily asked.

"Mrs. Jansen, madam."

Emily closed the book and set it aside on her bed. "Come in."

The housekeeper entered, balancing a tray with one hand. "Tea and biscuits, if you like?"

"Yes, please. Thank you." She set down the tray for her then bowed as she went to exit, but Emily suddenly had a thought. "Mrs. Jansen, did anyone ask you to prepare this?"

The elderly woman shook her head. "No, madam. I simply thought you might enjoy something to eat at midday."

She appeared innocent enough, so Emily nodded and let her go. She was almost certain the tea had been sent by her husband, but perhaps he was not so thoughtful.

She had grown accustomed to the staff bringing food to her room now, for she had no desire to dine with her husband. It wasn't that she feared him. No, indeed. In fact, it was more an act of defiance. She could not appear compliant when this entire situation was against her will. Perhaps he might find her immature or childish for behaving so, but she was not ready to settle just because this was the hand dealt to her. She would find a way to end it if she could, find a way to secure an annulment to free her from his grasp.

If there was any way she could be rid of him, she would do it.

Emily enjoyed her tea and biscuits and had finally made some progress with her book when there was a knock at the door again. Assuming it was the housekeeper to retrieve the tray, she said, "Come in, Mrs. Jansen."

There was a long pause. "It is your husband. "

She froze, heart stuttering inside her chest. What ought she to do? He had not sought out her personally since the day she arrived. What could change him now?

Emily moved from the bed, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin as she opened the door just a crack.

He stood in the corridor, and it struck Emily how decidedly good looking the man was, dash it all. Perhaps some ladies did only hope for a handsome husband, but Emily had always hoped for something beyond that. Now she was stuck with him , with his dark brown eyes and the perpetual set of his lips. Only she could not linger on that feature for long. He did not appear angry or cross, nor did he look apologetic and demure. He seemed emotionless, which was almost worse.

"You have a guest," he said evenly.

Emily pinched her lips together. "I have already informed the staff that I will not be seeing any guests for the time being."

A glimpse of fear crossed his dark eyes. "It is my mother."

Unable to stop the sharp intake of breath, Emily placed a hand on her stomach. Heaven and earth. This was the last thing she expected.

"You do not have to spend a great deal of time with her, but she did want to meet you. She will only be here the one night before returning to Bath."

Emily raised an eye brow at him, unwilling to budge in her response.

But then his features softened, catching her off guard. "Please," he said quietly.

Of course his begging would win her over, but she would not let him win in everything. Perhaps this would prove that his mother is a terror, and she would have more complaints to take back to the duke. Maybe then he would allow an annulment.

"Very well. Permit me a moment. "

He nodded wordlessly as she closed the door.

Her maid was not present to help her change clothes, but it wasn't necessary. Her morning dress would be suitable enough to meet his mother, but she did freshen up in the mirror, securing her hair and pinching her cheeks.

When Emily opened her bedroom door again, Mr. Westcott still stood in the corridor. He offered her his arm, which she reluctantly took so that he might lead her through the house. She realized she had not even had a tour from the housekeeper either, so it made Emily almost grateful for him.

"I would ask a small favor of you," he asked in a lowered voice.

Emily looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

"I know I have no room to ask anything of you," he began, "but I beg of you, please try to hide your hatred of me. You needn't pretend any affection, but if you can let her think this is a happy match, that would assuage her fears. She has worried for me enough over the years, and I do not want her to leave continuing to harbor such feelings."

That did not sound like an unpleasant woman, unless she was the sort that thought no one was good enough for her boy. But if she was an elderly woman, Emily did not want to cause her additional stress.

"Very well. I will do it for her sake," Emily mumbled.

Mr. Westcott nodded. "Thank you."

He led her to the front drawing room on the first floor, and when the doors were opened, Emily was first struck by how simple the trappings were. Very fine, to be sure, the sign of a wealthy gentleman, but nothing exaggerated as she had expected.

Then his mother came into view. Not as elderly as she'd thought, and a lively sparkle in her eyes. Her round face glowed with a smile as she stood to greet them .

"Ah, my dear!" she said, moving to take Emily gently by the hands.

"May I introduce my mother, Mrs. Agnes Martin. Mother, this is my wife," he paused after the word, casting his eyes at her, "Emily Westcott."

"You know, I think I remember your first come out," his mother said, patting Emily's hands. "I saw you with the duke and dowager duchess, thinking you were the prettiest thing, but I believe that was when we were still in mourning for Alexander's father, so it did not cross my mind to seek an introduction. How lucky that we can meet together now."

Blast it all, the woman was all genuine kindness, so that could not be used in Emily's arsenal. "Thank you, mum. Please have a seat. I presume, since you do not share a name with your son, that you have remarried?"

"Yes, indeed. My boy found a new love for me, which was a very lucky thing, more than I could have ever hoped for. And he worked so hard to find a match for both his sisters, though he still has the one remaining. Ever diligent and dutiful. You have married quite well for yourself, my dear." Mrs. Martin patted her son's hand, and Emily wanted to roll her eyes. She had yet to see such rampant kindness and affection from her husband.

"Of course," Emily said with a forced smile. "How lovely."

"And do not misunderstand, he has his gloomy days as we all do, but you need only take a trip to the ocean, and he'll be right as rain. He did so enjoy trips to the coast as a child, especially Brighton."

"Mother, please," Mr. Westcott said.

"Mother, nothing. This girl deserves to know what the rest of her life will be like by your side, so I'm only making sure she's fully prepared."

Emily couldn't help grinning. Already she'd learned so much more about her husband than she knew before, so perhaps the strategy here needed to be that she sought his mother's help in an alliance.

"Indeed? What more could you tell?"

By the end of the evening, Emily found she was quite worn out, but not in the way she had anticipated. She had assumed spending any time in the company of her husband and his family would grate on her nerves and leave her desperate to be alone once more. Instead, she had found genuine conversation with his mother, more laughter than she'd experienced in some time, and a tired jaw from both of those things. She was ready for her bed, to be sure, but she could not say she regretted the evening.

Mr. Westcott had turned in early, likely realizing he would not quite have an ally amongst the two women, but Emily knew without question that Mrs. Martin would always advocate for her son. She might tease him or expose his flaws every so often, but Emily could never mistake the loving affection in her eyes every time the mother looked at her son. How she had longed for that look in a parent's eyes, knowing it would never be.

When the flames in the fireplace had dimmed to mere coals, Mrs. Martin patted Emily's hand. "Perhaps I've occupied too much of your time. I must retire, and ready for my journey home. It was worth the travels to meet my new daughter-in-law, but I must return to my newborn grandson."

"Yes, of course." Emily smiled. "Thank you so much for making the trip. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance and meet the mother of my husband. It has been enlightening, to say the least."

Mrs. Martin laughed lightly as she took Emily's arm and together, they walked toward the parlor door. "Yes, I suppose he can be quite the paradox at times. I suppose I ought to warn you, for you may hear rumors about Alex, but I assure you, they are not true. There is so much misunderstood about Alex and his father, so much that society thinks they know. He is his father's son, there is no mistaking that. But Alex is so much more the better man." Mrs. Martin paused and turned. "I do not mean to speak ill of the dead, only to say that you need not fear as Mrs. Westcott. Things may seem difficult now, but they won't always be. If you be patient with his harsh exterior, I believe you will be blessed when you come to know his soft heart."

Emily forced a smile as they continued walking. "I fear I may be waiting in vain, mum, but I will do my best."

Again Mrs. Martin laughed. "So polite, even in her distress."

At the top of the stairs, Mrs. Martin patted Emily's hand. "I hope you will feel comfortable to write to me should you ever have any questions. Or even just to inform me of the goings-on in town. I do appreciate a little harmless gossip every now and then."

"I will surely. Thank you for your company."

Once Emily was alone again, she made her way to her room, but she felt revitalized. This union would not conquer her as she had feared before. No, she would conquer it herself.