Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

E mily watched in the mirror as her maid placed the final pin in her hair, hopefully securing the curls for the entirety of the evening. She wanted to ensure that nothing went wrong, that the night went as smoothly as possible. She still had not heard news of the Barrington's return, and this dinner party had been restricted to only finer society, so her friends would not be in attendance. Emily presumed she would be on her own, and she did not want to besmirch her former guardian, nor did she want to disappoint her husband. Everything had to be perfect.

She made her way down the staircase, but her breath caught in her chest when she spotted Alex waiting for her in the front foyer. How had she gone for days without seeing her own husband? Her heart constricted, a fierce reminder of her own real feelings, and how conflicted they were. Not just pure love and devotion, but also longing, and fear, and even a touch of anger still lingered. Where had he been? Why did he not confide in her?

But then she remembered Daphne's words. Why had she not confided in him, during this time when they likely needed each other more than ever?

Perhaps after the ball, they could finally clear the air and come to a conclusion one way or another.

Emily finished the walk down the stairwell, swallowing the lump in her throat. When she met him by the door, he took her hand and kissed it gently. "You look lovely tonight." His voice was low and husky, his dark eyes lingering on hers.

The words rang as genuine to Emily's ears, making her heart race. "Thank you." Then she arranged the shawl about her shoulders. "Shall we be off?"

Alex led her out the door to the carriage, and once they were settled in their seats, the carriage lurched forward.

"The duke and duchess have returned," Alex said casually.

Emily turned toward him slowly, as if she'd not heard him correctly. "They have?"

"When I went to Bond Street for some gloves, I saw them unpacking on my way home. I stopped in only to confirm, and Norland said Isabel is under the weather, so they likely won't be present tonight."

"Oh." Dissatisfaction surged in her chest. How she longed for Isabel's gentle camaraderie, for James's brotherly wisdom. She wanted their counsel and direction regarding her own marriage, but how could they? Who would know better than herself how to handle this situation?

Alex reached over and patted her hand. "I told him you would be disappointed, that you were very anxious to see them both. And little Theodore as well. He said they will come to call as soon as she's recovered."

"I see. Thank you for telling me." Emily tried to sit a little straighter, and not focus on his hand claiming hers, but he gave it a little squeeze, drawing her eyes up again.

"And even though they won't be attending, you won't be facing tonight alone," Alex continued. "I know that my name does not carry the same weight as Norland's, but you are my wife now. I will not let anything happen to you."

Emily's heart skipped a beat. "Thank you." Then she let out a sigh, immediately missing the touch of his hand when he withdrew.

How this man had such power and control over her heart was maddening. She could have kissed him in that moment, for he offered the one thing she'd always sought for, a kind companion. A good husband. Now she only needed a small reassurance that it would stay that way.

But she realized that perhaps she would never have that guarantee. The future could not be foreseen by him or her, and people were always changing. James was a prime example of that. He no longer desired to be known as the Undesirable Duke and fought hard to replace that image with something more. So even if Alex accepted Emily as she was, that was not a promise that all their problems would be solved, that they would never face societal backlash going forward, that they would never disagree again. She would have to confide in him, and trust that he would continue to be the good man she had seen evidence of so many times over. Even if putting her heart on the line was the scariest thing she'd ever faced.

They arrived at Lady Hartfield's home, a short ride that only required a carriage due to the formality of the event. They were immediately surrounded by a crush of other people, waiting in line to greet the hostess and be announced to the party.

"Do you suppose…" Alex whispered close to her ear, but then he pulled back.

"What is it?" Emily asked, immediately recognizing he was withholding something. "Tell me, please."

To her great surprise, her husband looked down at his boots and blushed. "I was thinking, perhaps we ought to inspect Lady Hartfield's balcony for old time's sake, but perhaps not."

Emily gasped, keeping her eyes ahead instead of meeting his very direct gaze. It had not dawned on her that this was the location they had met that first night, when everything had gone perfectly wrong. And yet, thinking back on it now, her devastation from the events that night seemed so tiny and inconsequential now. Her chance at happiness had not been taken away from her as she had presumed; she had just taken an unexpected path to finding it.

Their turn arrived to greet Lady Hartfield, and Emily's skin started to crawl the moment the older woman's conniving eyes and wry smile fell on them. "Ahh, very good. I was hoping the two of you would be able to attend."

"Thank you so much for the invitation, Lady Hartfield," Alex said, and Emily prided herself in recognizing how false he was.

"I understand you've just returned from traveling the country?" Lady Hartfield asked with one raised eyebrow.

"Yes, rather unexpected at the time, but we are happy to be home again." Alex patted Emily's hand in the crook of his arm.

This action was not missed by Lady Hartfield. "Yes, well… I expect to hear the full account. I will come find you later this evening."

They all bowed and curtsied in parting, but Emily didn't miss the clench in his jaw. "And what makes her think she has any right to know the details of our travels? We're not obligated to tell her a damn thing."

Emily could not keep from grinning. "Indeed."

Together they moved through the corridor and into the ballroom, and though Emily felt for certain the whole room had their eyes fixed on her and her husband, she brushed off the notion. She was merely out of practice in London society, having been alone with her husband for so long. It was surely just her imagination.

Alex led her to the refreshment table, and said, "Only lemonade for me tonight. I believe punch was my greatest enemy when we were here last, and I intend to keep my wits about me this time." He finished with a wink.

Emily was relieved they could share a laugh together as the guests trickled in. Perhaps the situation was not as dire as she'd led herself to believe.

It wasn't long until a bearded gentleman approached Alex with an extended hand.

"How do you do, Westcott?" the man said with a chipper smile.

"Very well, thank you." Alex then turned. "Have you met my wife, Mrs. Westcott?"

"Married? Oh yes, I had heard, but have not yet had the privilege. How do you do, Mrs. Westcott?"

Alex leaned in to explain, "This is a school friend of mine, Mr. Alfred Seymoure."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Emily bobbed in a curtsy.

"How did you two meet?" Mr. Seymoure asked.

Alex chuckled, reaching for Emily's hand. "At a party very much like this one."

"Are you married, Mr. Seymoure?" she asked.

"Yes, very happily. A fine institution. Unfortunately my wife is ill, so she could not make it this evening, but she sent me in search of connections. Our governess has recently gone off and gotten married herself, so I'm in need of a replacement."

"Oh, I know just the person!" Emily could not contain her excitement, though her enthusiasm had drawn the eyes of the crowd surrounding them. "A friend of mine is in search of a governess position, and she's excellent with children. "

"Ah, capital. I approve of your wife already, Westcott," Mr. Seymoure said with a chuckle. "Does she have references?"

Emily cringed. "Unfortunately, she was dismissed very unjustly and refused a letter of recommendation, but I can certainly vouch for her capabilities and character."

"Yes, of course." He dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out his calling card. "Do send her my way, and I'll be happy to hold an interview with her. Meet the children and all that."

"You are very kind, Mr. Seymoure. I know she will be delighted with the opportunity."

"Then I suppose I'm off for a celebratory drink. A pleasant evening to the both of you."

Once they were alone again, Alex leaned closer. "You know, you're quite charming when you want to be."

Emily raised one eyebrow. "And I suppose I'm infuriating all the other times?"

Alex's eyes traced her face, ending lingeringly on her lips. "Only when you want to be."

They were approached again by someone else calling his name, and Emily could not help commenting, "I believe you are more popular than you originally let on, Mr. Westcott."

"All thanks to my mother, I assure you," he whispered back.

An elderly gentleman called for Alex with a woman on his arm. "How do you do, Mr. Grisham? Lovely to see you, Mrs. Grisham," he greeted them.

Emily stiffened, ready to make the best impression. So here was the man Alex had intended to win over.

"This must be the young woman you had been looking to dance with when last I saw you, Westcott," the older gentleman commented.

Alex chuckled, and Emily noticed he did not correct him. "May I present my wife, Mrs. Emily Westcott. The Grishams are old friends of my family. "

"How very lovely to meet you both," Emily said, dipping in a flawless curtsy.

The woman gave Emily a critical look over before turning back to Alex. "How fares your family, Mr. Westcott? I believe one of your sisters had been previously called on by Baron Frampton before he married?"

"Yes, my sister Edwina returned to Bath with my mother for the time being."

"Indeed. I believe she must have dodged the proverbial bullet as it were, considering the current gossip about him."

"About Baron Frampton?" Emily asked. The couple she had met at Mrs. Lamb's dinner?

Mrs. Grisham ignored Emily entirely, keeping her eyes on Alex. "Rumor has it his wife is said to be with child, but he claims it is not his. Whether from some affair before or after their marriage is unknown, but no one has seen her since the scandal broke. It is believed he has banished her to the country, and may even seek divorce, the poor girl."

Emily wanted to sink into the floorboards and disappear. Not only was it truly devastating for the Framptons, who had seemed so very in love, but this very conversation was Emily's greatest fear. That someone should find out about her own family sins and talk about them as if their lives were created for entertainment's sake alone, and that Alex might shun her completely.

"How terrible," Emily whispered.

Again Mrs. Grisham shot Emily a critical eye. "Serves her right for lying to her husband. Though perhaps it should be more common practice to search out a woman's true upbringing before agreeing to marry, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Westcott?"

"Agatha," Mr. Grisham censured his wife.

Emily swallowed, eyes widening as she turned to her husband in horror .

Alex still bore a smile, but his eyes were quizzical. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Mrs. Grisham."

"I only mean to say that it is not only the baron's wife that has come up in recent gossip while you were away. Another affair had also been hinted at. And being the ward of a duke is not enough to protect one's true identity anymore, I'm afraid." The woman had intentionally raised her voice to draw the attention of anyone nearby.

Emily froze. No, no, no. This could not be happening. Just when she'd been starting to hope she could have some semblance of a normal life with her husband.

So she stood there, mouth gaping open, unable to say a single word in her own defense. The woman leering back at her was completely right. All Emily's boldness and stubbornness did no good here, for she was utterly deflated.

"And if you don't believe me, you can see what Lady Whetstone has to say about it all." Mrs. Grisham reached into her reticule and pulled out a folded pamphlet that bore the emblem of the infamous gossip columnist.

Unable to stop herself, Emily rudely snatched the pamphlet away and quickly skimmed over the contents, until she saw the name she recognized. Her brother's.

Though it is not only a baron's marriage who is in jeopardy. There is another member of society who might be following suit. A young woman, once under the care of the Undesirable Duke, had recently married a Mr. W. It was all very innocent, though sudden, to be sure, and perhaps now, we can all understand why. Since the hasty nuptials, the new bride has been seen with a Mr. E, not only on the doorstep of her husband's home in London, but also together on the streets of Bath. One would think that, if displeased with the selection of one's husband, then this young bride might take a little more discretion in securing times and places to meet with her lover.

Emily's hand flew to her mouth. How had the situation been so misconstrued? Nothing could be farther from the truth. But she kept reading.

But it is not just her choice in men that is drawing attention. It turns out that this young miss might also have questionable parentage. Born of a noblewoman's affair with another member of the peerage, while the two remained married to their spouses, is the most ghastly of circumstances. The elevation of her blood could not be more secure, but the lack of marital bounds certainly drags any of her legitimacy through the mud. One might even wonder on the authenticity of her marriage to Mr. W. This author would not blame him in the least if he sought more repercussions than the afore-mentioned baron.

Bile rose in Emily's throat. The room had suddenly become entirely too warm and stuffy, the walls of the room closing in around her. She did not feel her husband beside her anymore; she felt entirely abandoned and alone. She could not be here for a moment longer.

Dropping the pamphlet, Emily rushed through the crowd pushing her way into the corridor. But that was not far enough. She passed through the entrance where most people were coming in, and Lady Hartfield called after her, but Emily did not stop. That woman would not champion her in her time of need. She would no doubt exploit every detail about the situation for her own enjoyment and entertainment. Emily had to get away.

The short carriage ride be damned. She would run across all of London if she had to, in order to get away from horrible people like the Grishams.

Any hopes Emily had, any chance Edwina had in her marriage, had all been dashed now that Emily's secret had been outed in the most popular gossip sheet.

She would return to Alex's townhome, pack her belongings, and go to the Barrington's. They would undoubtedly welcome her with open arms, and help her escape to the country.

It was the only thing she could do now.