Emme nodded, then began to shake her head as the duchess pushed open the doors and entered the room like the indomitable hostess holding court that she was.
“Man?” Emme asked. “Did you say man? Don’t you mean woman?”
But the duchess was out of earshot and busily greeting guests. Mr. Alcott and Tessa had returned from the ante-room, and Luci stood chatting with them, her father still hovering, despite the arrival of two other powerful society hostesses. No doubt the appearance of one very disreputable Captain Granville—engaged, by the looks of it, in charming the stockings off the society mavens—had raised the overprotective father’s hackles.
Emme’s heart sank. Where Captain Percival trod, others of Harrow’s Finest Five were likely to follow. The duke was rumored to have resumed hiding from his mother at his country estate, Lord Harrison was still abroad, and Emme’s brother was spending the day with their father. What were the odds the captain might be on his own that day?
Out of the corner of her eye, Emme caught the movement of the duchess, being escorted on the arm of the last guest. Far too late, her hackles went up. She’d already pledged her support to the duchess, and to the young man who was to be married off by midsummer. For as long as she was able, Emme kept her eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge or believe the identity of that man. But then the two of them were upon her, and she had no choice but to turn and smile.
“My dear Lady Emmeline, I must introduce you.”
“Of course.” Emme pictured herself a sharp-toothed fox, suddenly surrounded and rendered tame by a pack of hunting hounds. And one of those hounds had the most intriguing, deep blue eyes. She’d be able to sleep much more soundly at night if she never had to think of gazing into the depths of those eyes again.
The duchess released her companion’s arm. “This is the young man we discussed earlier, the one with the dilemma you and I can help solve. Mr. Daniel Hallsworth, the future Marquess of Edensbridge, once you help him find a suitable wife.”
Chapter 10
“Lady Emmeline, it’s so lovely to make your acquaintance again.” As Daniel held out his gloved hand to her, she went pale, as pale as she’d been the day he’d pulled her from the water, and he half-worried, half-hoped he’d have to catch her in his arms again.
Emme rallied quickly and grasped his fingers for the merest second before releasing them. “Mr. Hallsworth.”
Her skin, pale but with color slowly returning, only served to set off the deep emerald green of her eyes and the auburn highlights of her hair. She wore lavender today, a lovely color against the soft skin of her throat, and a welcome change from gray, albeit still a reminder of her mourning.
“Do the two of you know each other?” The duchess folded her hands together over her heart.
Daniel hoped his conspirator wasn’t overplaying her hand as Emme nodded at the duchess.
“You’ll recall my brother is acquainted with both the duke and Mr. Hallsworth.”
“Yes, but I didn’t realize you’d met your brother’s school friends,” the duchess said. “I recall my son saying he’d only met you once.”
“The duke didn’t join us at the Radcliffe’s country home during the summer months we spent there.” Daniel watched Emme’s face carefully and was rewarded by the slightest blush in her cheeks at the mention of those summers.
“Well, you can catch up on old times, then, this afternoon.” The duchess squeezed Emme’s hand. “You’ll be happy to learn you share a passion with your brother’s old friend.”
Heat flooded Emme’s cheeks, instantly turning Daniel’s thoughts to their passionate indiscretions.
“You’re both deeply involved in charitable causes,” the duchess said. “Mr. Hallsworth has become the patron of several worthwhile causes in the short time he’s been back in London.”
Emme studied the man in front of her. There were still traces of the privileged boy he’d been, the boy who’d so boldly and confidently plied her with his seductions. But now there was a hint of world-weariness, of the same sadness that afflicted her when she thought about how much need existed in the world and how little she could do to affect it.
“Several causes?” Emme said. “There’s always so much to be done, isn’t there, Mr. Hallsworth? And not enough hours and money to do it. I should like very much to hear about what you’re doing.”
“I’ve been inspired by those with kinder hearts than mine,” he said. “It’s hardly worth mentioning.”
More like he didn’t care to discuss it, not here among all this frippery. Her words resonated. In a short time, he’d come to understand her devotion to her own cause and the women she could help. But could it ever be enough? Besides, not everyone in high society, nor on the Committee for Privileges would approve of his support of some of the city’s most desperate cases. It rarely occurred to those who disapproved that poverty might drive poor behaviors and not the other way ‘round. But Daniel had to keep his counsel on all of that while he rebuilt an unassailable reputation.
The duchess turned in the direction of her other guests and announced that tea was served on the terrace. Daniel flashed a devilish grin at Emme and held out his arm to her, glad to leave weighty matters for another day and eager to enjoy the next few hours he would get to spend in her company.
In front of them, James took his wife’s arm and the two of them smiled as they gazed at each other. They were a living, breathing testament to the joy of matrimony, and Daniel hoped Emme was paying attention to them. Unfortunately, she seemed to be drawn to and amused by the sight of Fairbank with his daughter on one arm, put in the uncomfortable position of having an unescorted duchess in proximity to his other arm. Fairbank inclined his head in the duchess’s direction, who took his arm with even less enthusiasm than he’d shown in offering it.
The three of them led the procession down the hallway, followed by the society mavens, one on each of Granville’s arms, then Lady Tessa and James. He and Emme followed the Alcotts. Somehow, despite being several steps in front of them, the mavens managed to take turns glancing at Emme and Daniel. He sighed under the weight of the watchful eye of London society on him.
He kept their watchfulness in mind and spoke softly to Emme as they entered the hallway. “As you’ve so generously agreed to help me, I should probably tell you what I desire in a wife.”
“Desire?” She choked out the word. “I was under the impression this was a desperate situation. Should you expect to have some sort of wish list fulfilled?”
“Hm. Desperate might be too strong a word. I think my future title and a few other attributes will recommend me well to society’s maidens, so, yes, I have a few wishes I expect to have fulfilled.”
Every carefully chosen word seemed to have its effect on Emme, as looks of surprise, anger, and something else—dare he hope desire?—chased across her face.
“I hesitate to ask,” she said.
“Well, to begin, she should be blonde.”
Emme nearly stumbled and he gripped her arm tighter. “Blonde? Why on earth should she be blonde?”
“It seems very British, doesn’t it? And blondes can be so lovely.” Daniel rested his gaze on Lady Lucinda in front of them. He even made a discreet-bordering-on-inappropriate appraisal of her form. He hardly needed to have his arm twisted to do it. Lady Lucinda was quite comely, and her high-collared dress, covered what could only be described as an ample bosom. Far from being modest, no doubt what its wearer intended, the gown was enticing.
“I’ll thank you to stop leering at my friend.”
“Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts for a moment.” Daniel fought to control a grin when Emme gasped indignantly.
“There are plenty of well-bred Englishwomen with dark hair. And I have it on the best authority that the last woman to whom you proposed was not blonde.”
“Well, times change, proposals get rejected, men must move on.” He wondered if Emme realized just how tightly she was gripping his arm. He grinned to cover the grimace el
icited by her fingertips digging into his flesh.
“Well, move onto someone who is not Fairbank’s daughter. If I’m to help with this project of yours, I’d prefer it end in a marriage rather than a duel.”
“Perhaps the duel would end in my favor, and a marriage would ensue.”
Emme snorted quietly and gracefully, as only a well-bred Englishwoman could. “Rumor has it, Fairbank has been dispatching worthy opponents since before either of us were born.”
Daniel instinctively pulled her arm tighter against him, not enjoying what could be construed as admiration for another man. “Perhaps it is best to set our sights elsewhere.”
They arrived on the terrace, where a servant pulled out a seat for the duchess at the head of a beautifully laid table that could have served a formal dinner as easily as high tea. Daniel held out Emme’s chair, then took the seat beside her, as they’d been assigned by the placards beside their teacups. Fairbank was seated at the opposite end of the table, as far from the duchess as he could be. He was flanked on one side by his daughter and on the other by Lady Tessa and James. The mavens were seated opposite Emme and Daniel, one on each side of Granville, who, as Daniel had hoped, was distracting them from speculation about what might be going on between Lady Emme and Mr. Hallsworth. While he wasn’t above plotting subterfuge to win a stubborn woman’s hand in matrimony, Daniel was deadly serious about restoring the reputation of the Hallsworth name.
One of the servants poured tea for Emme, then offered sugar and cream. She requested sugar cubes, then amended her request to none, which Daniel found curious. He took his own cup strong and black, which was the only way he could stand it after falling out of the British habit of tea while abroad. When they’d been served finger sandwiches and scones, for which he’d never lose his taste, Emme glanced in his direction. She set her jaw and narrowed her eyes, and he braced for the joy of the lady’s set-down.
“Other than the requirement regarding her hair color, what criteria have you set for your helpmeet and lifelong companion?”
There was an edge to her words that made him hopeful. This was the duchess’s scheme, after all, and he had little sense of whether it would work on such a headstrong woman as Emme, but already there were positive signs. “She should be…” intelligent, stubborn, passionate, “…amenable.”
“Amenable? As in docile?” She fixed him with a mirthless smile. “Like the Queen’s collie?”
He sipped his tea, then shrugged one shoulder. “Collies are also known for their agility and stamina.”
That drew a full blush from the base of Emme’s throat to edge of her hairline.
“For keeping up with the children.” He clicked his tongue. “Please do keep your thoughts pure. I’m trying to rebuild a reputation.”
She widened her eyes and coughed on her sip of tea, drawing the attention of the others at the table. “Pardon me,” she gasped. “I’m fine, really.”
The duchess motioned away the two servants who had rushed to Emme’s side to attend to her, but that didn’t break the stare of the mavens who now watched them more closely. Ah, well, Daniel could perform with an audience. It would be a pleasure to learn whether Emme could as well, as he planned to put her through her paces over the coming weeks. In public and in private.
* * *
The next evening, Emme wrapped her fingers around the stem of her aperitif glass. She stared into the fire the servants had laid in the sitting room to ward off the chill of yet another rain front that had moved in over the city. A quiet dinner with her aunt and two best friends and the first glass of sherry hadn’t yet calmed her, but perhaps the second glass would do the trick.
“And do you know what he had the nerve to say to me?” she asked her friends, her aunt having long since retired and left them to their own devices.
Tessa, sitting ramrod straight and looking dutifully demure, her first glass of sherry sitting untouched beside her, tilted her head. “Was it something about blondes, dear?”
Emme blinked slowly and sighed. “I’m sorry. I must be a terrible bore tonight.”
“Of course not!” Tessa gave her a sweet smile.
“Perhaps a bit.” Luci finished her sherry and helped herself to a second glass. Tessa cleared her throat, and Luci shrugged. “Well, she is. And what kind of friends would we be if we weren’t honest about it?”
“The terrible kind.” Emme grinned.
She’d missed Luci’s straightforward manner. When she wanted, Luci could bluff her way through the most spirited game of whist, but she was never less than brutally honest with her best friends.
Tessa lifted her glass of sherry and took a sip. “In the interest of being good friends, let’s discuss why you feel the need to discuss it.”
“Endlessly,” Luci added, then raised her eyebrows at the cutting look Tessa gave her.
“Luci’s right, Tessa,” Emme said. “I know I’ve gone on and on about it. My mother would be mortified by the kind of hostess I’m being, not asking after your husband, or Luci’s Season, or your families.”
Tessa shook her head. “Don’t try to change the subject now. You can’t stop talking about Mr. Hallsworth, and I think I know why. You haven’t been totally honest about what transpired between the two of you on your voyage from Spain.”
Emme blushed. She hadn’t been honest with them, not completely, and she never would be. Even her closest friends couldn’t know the truth about her. No matter how much they loved her, she couldn’t expect them to stand by a fallen woman, a disgrace to her family. A shameless harlot who’d tried to seduce a second man, only to be rebuffed by his sense of propriety.
“Come, now, Emme, we’ve figured it out.” Luci leaned forward and laid her hand over Emme’s.
For a moment, the horror that they knew what had happened in Daniel’s stateroom made her stiffen with fear. But the fear was soon replaced by relief at the prospect of having someone with whom she could share her deep, dark secret about their shameful tryst. Perhaps it was even time to tell them what had happened on that night more than a year ago, the night that had spurred Edward to convince their parents to let her travel abroad with Aunt Juliana. The night she’d surrendered her virginity to the cad who’d flattered her with flowery promises and lies about everlasting love and devotion, while she’d pretended to want those things so she could use him for her own ends.
Tessa leaned forward and laid her hand on top of both Emme’s and Luci’s. “It’s obvious the two of you still have feelings for each other. James has noticed it. Granted, he’s keenly attuned to love, like all the great Romantic poets.”
Luci glanced at Tessa. “But this is about Emme and Mr. Hallsworth.” She turned her attention back to Emme. “You’re not the first lady who has let a man steal kisses from her. And out on the ocean, under the stars—I can’t imagine the temptation!”
Tessa sighed. “What Luci is trying to say is that you mustn’t judge yourself so harshly. If you have feelings for Mr. Hallsworth and he has feelings for you, why not let him court you?”
Because as much as he said her sordid past didn’t matter to him, of course it did. Or it would, someday. She was soiled and damaged. The kind of woman he could take for a lover? Maybe. The kind of woman he could marry, with his quest to restore honor and respectability to the family name? Never.
“I don’t think he’s interested, not anymore. He seems quite set on finding a wife. A blonde wife. And I’ll help him find someone appropriate as a favor to the duchess.” And for him, so he could have what he needed most—a respectable match.
Tessa leaned closer and gave her a quick hug. “You’re too kind-hearted for your own good, which is how I know you’ll do the right thing. If you won’t have him, you owe it to him to let him go.”
“The right thing?” Luci huffed. “Tessa’s right that you’re kindhearted and noble. And you deserve to be happy, which is why you shouldn’t let him go at all!”
Emme nodded, agreeing to everything and nothing all at onc
e. Their opinion of her was a lie. Noble, indeed. But what could she do except go along with the ruse? A flirtation, a kiss, even a near-seduction were all forgivable. But what Emme had done would have her labeled an outcast. She had no choice but to give up any hope of a happy marriage and respectable wifehood. But she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her dearest friends as well.
Before she could formulate some response to their conflicting advice, noise from the front of the house drew their attention.
“Father’s home earlier than expected.”
Emme scooped up the sherry bottle Tessa gathered the glasses, and they tucked them into the hiding place behind a needlepoint bag in a low cabinet drawer. As they took up their still full tea cups, they heard a woman’s voice asking the servants about “my dear daughter.”
Tessa took Emme’s hand. “Your mother!”
“Finally.” Luci shook her head. “How did she manage to take a route that delayed her this long?”
Tessa nudged Luci in the ribs.
“I don’t even care,” Emme said as she rushed to the door. “I have to see her. Come with me.”
“No,” Tessa called after her. “We’ll see ourselves out. Have your reunion in private, and give the countess our regards.”
Emme stopped and smiled at her friends. “Thank you. We’ll have you ‘round for tea as soon as my mother is settled in.”
“And tell her about Mr. Hallsworth.” Luci said.
Tessa nudged her again.
Luci groaned. “What? Perhaps her mother can talk some sense into her.”
* * *
A few days after embarking on the duchess’s plan for him to win Emme, Daniel once again sat ensconced in a large, leather chair by the fireplace in the private room at Swimmer’s club. He stared into his half-empty glass of fine Scotch whisky and listened to Granville and their host banter.
One Kiss From Ruin: Harrow’s Finest Five Book 1 Page 11