Lord Melton and his Duchess

by Miers, Fiona

  She never understood why men took such a long time debating and making decisions, although she did comprehend the weight of their work.

  Emma was more than happy to stay in Dorset at Finlay Hall. It was peaceful and there was a certain serenity that she never experienced in London, or anywhere else for that matter. Not even at her parents’ house.

  The estate had been her home for many years, and her most adored place in the entire world. Catherine and Sarah loved it there, and even more so when the other Melton brothers and their families came to visit.

  Emma pursed her lips. Should she have lived in London with Charles, even though she detested the filth of the city? London was practically a slum, except for a small enclave where the wealthy lived. The city itself was dirty, with diseases such as cholera and tuberculosis common around the area, and crime was rampant. She had made it perfectly clear that she did not wish to raise her children in such surroundings, and after she had found out she was expecting Catherine, she’d relocated at Finlay Hall permanently.

  Of course, she’d visited Charles on occasion, but did not wish to subject herself, or her children to the adverse atmosphere of London. Moving forward, she and Charles had begun to grow apart, and at times it felt as though she did not even recognise the man who stood in front of her.

  Presently, she was focused on raising her children at Finlay Hall, in a beautiful and peaceful setting. But her daughters did not fill the void in her heart, although she had been foolish to think that it would be filled by Charles.

  There had been happy times shared by the couple, but they were infrequent in the thirteen years they had been married.

  Despite understanding the consequences of an arranged marriage, Emma couldn’t help from gazing enviably at Charles’ brothers and their wives. They had all been lucky enough to fall in love and marry, something she had begun longing for. In her heart, she knew it would not happen, and that the only person Charles was in love with was himself.

  The sad reality hit Emma once again, only this time she felt as though she could not breathe. She closed her eyes, composing herself. She did not want Catherine or Sarah to see her in such a state if they suddenly awoke. Those two young girls had been through enough and had seen their fair share of her tears and silent heartbreak. She did not wish for them to think that the world was a cruel and resentful place.

  The thought caused her to wonder if it would have made a difference if she had not been stubborn and agreed to stay in London instead of nearly a two-day journey away from Charles. Had she remained living in London, would she and Charles not have grown apart as they had? Would things be better or easier between them? Would he not have accused her of being unfaithful to him?

  Unfortunately, there was no possible answer. It would always remain a mystery.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Emma decided to take her mind off all these troublesome thoughts and focus on caring for her mother.

  THE SILENCE INSIDE Charles’ study enveloped him, and he welcomed the absence of sound. Although he had joined his brothers in a game of croquet on the lawn, it had been much too rambunctious for his liking. He preferred to be alone, especially with the feelings whirling in his heart and the thoughts plundering his mind.

  James, Robert and Thomas had all been married a number of years, in descending amounts of time, of course, but the one thing Charles noticed was that they were all still as happy and loving as they had always been. Ever since the day their wives had formally became a part of the Melton family, Charles had seen the way they gazed upon one another and that had not changed at all.

  Charles had tried to brush off the feelings while the game was afoot, but after he excused himself, much to the dismay and appeal of his brothers, Charles had retreated to his study. What he had not planned on was that he would be met by an emotion that he didn’t expect.

  He was jealous.

  Not only of his brothers, who had met the loves of their lives, but also of the fact that their relationships had not deteriorated as time passed. They had not grown apart, and they had not even allowed distance to have a negative effect on their love.

  Charles closed his eyes and recalled the early months of his marriage to Emma. They were young and did not know one another at all. Their families had come to an understanding that had led to their marriage, but they were mere acquaintances at the time.

  For the early months, they’d travelled and spent much time together. They had learned more about one another, and laughed much more than they did now.

  As the months wore on, they spent less and less time together. When he was in Dorset, he was constantly engaged in planning social events, as was his role as Duke. He hosted balls and formal events, but he had not made time for Emma or the children.

  Guilt washed over him. He’d promised to care for Emma until his last breath, and even beyond that. She was the sole beneficiary to his estate if something were to happen to him. He’d decided this as he’d made a vow to care for her always.

  Charles sighed and dropped his head in his hands. He had ensured that Emma and the children would be taken care of always, but he had forgotten to honour his vow while he was still alive. He had certainly not treated her fairly with regard to the Joseph incident.

  Emma had always been a woman of her word and had never given Charles nor anyone who knew her reason to doubt her. She was a woman of integrity and intelligence, and he could not imagine his life without her.

  Filled with shame, he scolded himself immensely. He had been such a fool, and he must rectify it. He longed to have her beautiful face light up the room when he entered, and he wished to be the reason behind her smile. He wanted her to know that she was an important part of his life, and that he was grateful to have her as his wife. But how?

  He was skilled at arranging and planning an elaborate and lavish ball, but he did not possess an inkling of how to apologise to his own wife.

  “You are truly pathetic, Charles,” he said to himself in deep disapproval, and shook his head.

  A knock on the door of his study sounded, and even though he had asked to be left alone when he excused himself, Charles welcomed the distraction. He was castigating himself to the point where he required a refuge.

  “Come in,” he said, raising his head away from his hands.

  The door opened and James appeared, striding inside. “Why do you always hide away in here?”

  “I am not hiding. Everyone is aware of where I go when I wish to be left alone,” Charles said.

  “Indeed, brother, but you know what I mean,” James said.

  “I do,” Charles said, and he eyed his brother suspiciously. “Is there something you wanted?”

  “I simply came to check on you. You seemed rather distracted since returning to Finlay Hall, but especially so today.”

  “A tad, yes.”

  James carefully approached his desk. “Is it because of Emma’s departure?”

  Charles cleared his throat and lowered his gaze. “Amongst other things.”

  “You are more than welcome to speak to me. I may only be your younger brother, but I do know a few things,” James said.

  Charles watched as James helped himself to a tumbler of his finest whiskey and made himself comfortable on the leather sofa. Perhaps it was time to ask for help.

  “I do have one question, now that I think of it,” Charles said, leaning back in his own chair.

  “And that is?”

  “How did you do it?” Charles asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have always been a confident young man and not afraid of being true to who you are. Then you left for the war. When you returned, you were not the same person. You were—pardon me, I am at a loss for a better word—a broken man. You were plagued by nightmares and the desperation of war was instilled in your blood. Then you met Abigail and it all disappeared. How did you manage that?” Charles asked.

  “First of all, I am not in the least offended by the use of the word brok
en, as it was very accurate in my case. I was a broken man. Seeing men killed beside you has such an effect. I was plagued by it for a long while, thinking I would never see the light of day again,” James said, and a smile formed on his lips. “Then I met Abigail, and all that changed. She made me want to be a better man. She silenced the noise in my mind and the hole of resentment and anger in my heart, and filled it with her tender love.”

  “And how do you continue to keep it filled... like that?”

  “It does not come easy at times, but I choose her above all else. Every morning, every minute, every moment of my life. Because without her, my life does not have meaning. I have no purpose in this world if she is not a part of mine.”

  Charles pursed his lips and nodded. He had certainly not done that for Emma.

  “With all due respect, brother, you have never taken any interest in that aspect of my life. Are you certain you are quite right?” James asked.

  “I was merely inquiring.”

  James stared at him with narrowed eyes and sipped his drink. “It seems as though after the wives retire for the night, we brothers must converse in the smoking room.”

  “So, it seems.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The coach finally reached Mill Grand House and not a moment too soon, as Emma struggled to get Lilly settled and Catherine and Sarah’s initial excitement had faded into annoyance for one another. They had spent the last stretch of the journey arguing about anything and everything.

  When the coach came to a stop, the women and girls were greeted by her parents’ manservant, who assisted them from the coach.

  “Welcome to Mill Grand House, Your Grace,” the servant said. “The coach will be unloaded, and your luggage will be brought to your bedchambers and to the nursery.”

  “Thank you, Harold,” Emma said gratefully.

  She turned to the nanny. “Take the children to their chambers. I will be along shortly.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the nanny said and gathered the still arguing children. “Come along, dears.”

  Emma turned her attention back to Harold and approached him. “How is my mother?”

  “Perhaps it is best if Your Grace goes to the sick room and sees for yourself,” he said after an awkward silence.

  Emma inhaled sharply. She had remained hopeful that her mother would make a recovery, as she was strong and able to endure most things, but the tone in the servant’s voice made her hopes crumble.

  Making her way inside the manor house, she quietly ascended the stairs that led to the first floor. She was well aware of where the sick room was, as this was not the first time Caroline had fallen ill.

  Her hands shook as she walked down the hallway and stopped in front of the door. She softly knocked, then stepped back.

  The door opened and Roland appeared in the doorway. He immediately stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

  “Emma, my dear one,” he said as he embraced her.

  “Father,” she said, not realising how much emotion she carried in her voice. “It is good to see you.”

  “And it is good to see you, my dearest girl. How was the journey?”

  “It was long, but worth seeing your face.”

  “How are the children?” her father asked.

  “They argued some of the way, but they are perfectly well. They are in the nursery. We can go to them in a moment,” she said.

  “And Charles?”

  “May I see her?” Emma asked, diverting the subject and not wishing to discuss Charles at that particular moment.

  “Of course,” Roland said with a furrowed brow.

  He opened the door and stepped to the side, allowing Emma access to the room. With shaky hands, she entered the dark room, but there was enough light from the lamp to allow her to see. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. Caroline was lying on her back, and the large lump in her belly was very noticeable. Her breathing was laboured, and it broke something inside Emma’s heart to see her mother in this manner.

  “Emma,” Caroline whispered.

  “My dearest mother,” she said and rushed forward to take her mother’s hand. “I’m here.”

  “I am glad you came.”

  “Of course. It is now my turn to care for you,” she said.

  Her mother, clearly in pain, smiled but it appeared as more of a grimace. Emma’s heart broke even more.

  “I shall leave you to rest, Mother, and I must get the children settled as well. I will see you in the morn.”

  Caroline nodded and released Emma’s hand.

  She stared at her mother for one more long moment, then quietly left the room. As she stepped into the hallway, her father moved back inside to tend to her mother once more. As tears filled her eyes, she drew in numerous deep breaths to compose herself.

  Tears would not solve anything, and they certainly would not help with the situation at hand. She straightened her shoulders, composed herself, and put on a brave face for everyone in the house.

  Emma made her way to the nursery, which had been converted to accommodate both Catherine and Sarah, as well as little Lilly. The children had already been changed into their night frocks and were neatly tucked into bed. Lilly was asleep in a crib on one side of the room, and Catherine and Sarah’s two beds were on either side of the large window.

  She approached their beds and sat on the wooden rocking chair nearby, her hands still trembling from the stress.

  “Mother, where is Grandmother?” Catherine asked.

  “She is resting. She is feeling unwell,” Emma said. “You can see her in the morn, as you both need your rest as well. We’ve had a long day in the coach, and you deserve to sleep soundly.”

  “When will Father be joining us?” Catherine asked.

  “Your father is a very busy man, Catherine,” Emma said.

  “He promised,” Sarah pouted.

  “Well then, if he promised, he will be here as soon as he has tended to all his work,” Emma said with a nod. “Sleep well, my dears.”

  “Sleep well, Mother,” the two girls said.

  Emma kissed them each on the cheek and quietly left the nursery. Dragging her feet as she made her way to her own chambers, she noticed light coming from her father’s study and walked towards it. She found Roland seated on his leather sofa, drinking a glass of amber-hued liquid. His eyes were downcast, and his overall appearance was dishevelled, from his clothes to his hair. She was not used to seeing her father this way, but she certainly understood his heartache.

  His gaze met hers and he quickly placed the glass on the table in front of him. “Emma, I though you retired for the evening.”

  “I was on my way, when I noticed the light,” she said. “Would it be all right if I joined you?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  Emma smiled momentarily and sat opposite Roland.

  “Your mother and I have been together more than thirty years. She was the first woman I ever loved, and the only woman I will ever love. I feel so helpless. There is not a single thing I can do to take her pain away. Not even the physician has much hope any longer. The growth continues to increase in size and will soon make it very difficult for her to breathe.”

  Emma watched with a broken heart as her father began to sob uncontrollably, and she shifted from the chair to sit beside him. She embraced him lovingly and made every attempt to comfort and console him, although she was certain nothing she was able to say would be enough to mend his broken heart.

  She was not even able to fix her own.

  THE CHATTER OF THE women in the music room was cheerful as Charles passed them on his way to the smoking room. He had arranged for his brothers to meet him there while the women and children occupied themselves elsewhere.

  Charles needed to speak to his brothers without their wives present, as it would give him more insight on how to win Emma back after the his bungling of the situation regarding Joseph. He was man enough to admit that he had been wrong to accuse her of being unf
aithful, but he had not an inkling of how he could rectify it.

  Clearly his brothers were much more skilled on the subject, and he hoped they would shed some light.

  As he stepped into the smoking room he looked at his brothers, who were comfortably seated on the sofas, chatting amongst themselves. They quieted upon seeing Charles in the doorway.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure of this meeting?” Thomas asked with a grin.

  “This is not because Julia and I left before dessert, is it? We all know how you feel about that,” Robert asked.

  “No, this is something of much more importance than dessert,” Charles said.

  Robert’s eyes widened in surprise and he and Thomas exchanged concerned glances.

  “I will be completely frank with you all this evening, and I do expect everyone to extend me the same courtesy.”

  “Of course,” Robert said. “What is the matter, Charles?”

  “As you all are aware, Emma and I are not in a very good place at the moment. We parted ways on bad terms, and I fear...”

  “You fear what?”

  “I fear she will not forgive me for my transgression. Not this time,” Charles said. “I accused her of being unfaithful, and it hurt her more than I...”

  “Why the devil would you accuse her of such a thing? She is one of the most loyal women I know,” Thomas declared.

  Charles pursed his lips and lowered his gaze.

  Luckily, Robert came to his aid and rose to his feet. “I think there comes a time in every man’s life where he has a momentary lapse of judgement and does something he regrets. I know I have behaved in such a manner, and you all have as well.”

  Charles glanced up and saw Thomas and James exchange looks. He knew they’d both had lapses in judgment, and they were in no position to cast aspersions upon him.

  “I’ve made a mess of things and am fully aware of that. I’ve not been the perfect husband. I have never experienced feelings of jealousy before. I was not certain how to process those emotions, and I probably still do not.”