* * *
Daniel leaned against the mantelpiece in the duke’s salon and gripped a glass of his friend’s finest cognac, all the while cursing his own cowardice for not throwing himself into the Bay of Biscay when he’d had the chance. Granville had been wise enough to turn down the duchess’s dinner invitation, claiming a pressing previous engagement. In his position, Daniel couldn’t afford to turn down any respectable invitation, and few invitations in town were more coveted than an intimate soiree at the reclusive duke’s home, with the duke himself finally in attendance.
But it had been a long week of keeping up pretenses, with far too few opportunities to bend his head close to Emme’s and share the secrets of their plans, his for marriage, hers for rescuing every damsel in distress within the city limits. Those few times though—at an outdoor theater performance, a chance meeting in the park, another afternoon tea—had made the drudgery of society life bearable, he dared think even exciting.
Now he stood apart from the twenty or so guests—intimate being a relative term in the duchess’s world—who laughed and chatted and drank the best liquor in London. As far as he could tell, none of the younger ladies in attendance were unmarried except Lady Lucinda, whose ever-watchful father shot enough furtive glances in Daniel’s direction to assure him he was neither expected nor welcome to court her. All in all, Daniel should have been enjoying the pleasant evening, but he couldn’t shake a bone-deep melancholy. Emme was late. What if she didn’t attend, after all?
“Not to worry.” Swimmer joined Daniel and motioned for a servant to refill both their glasses. “Your luck and your mood are both about to improve immensely.”
Swimmer glanced at the entryway and Daniel followed his line of sight. The cognac he’d just sipped suddenly warmed his throat. There she was, finally, on her brother’s arm and followed by her parents, stepping into the salon. As the butler announced the earl and his family, the focus of the room shifted and came to rest on her glowing face with those bright green eyes.
“Oh no. It’s as bad as Granville said it is. I do so hate it when he’s right.” Swimmer took Daniel’s glass out of his hand and set it on the mantel. “That’s so you can keep your wits about you. What’s left of them, anyway.”
“Hm?” Daniel caught most of Swimmer’s words, or at least some of them, as he watched Emme’s progress through the room. “Did you mention Granville?”
Swimmer nodded. “He said your sickness is worsening, and if we don’t get the girl to agree to marry you soon, we might be smuggling spirits into Broadmoor for you.”
“Have you noticed Granville has a flair for the dramatic?”
“Undoubtedly. But that hardly makes him wrong.” Swimmer groaned. “It appears even the earl and countess have mended their rift for the goal of presenting their lovely daughter to the duke on a silver platter.”
Fear shot through Daniel and he grabbed Swimmer’s sleeve. “You haven’t changed your mind about courting her?”
Swimmer’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but his voice was calm. “Don’t be daft. Even if you weren’t madly in love with her, I’ve no interested in courting or marrying, regardless of my mother’s thinly-veiled intentions. Not now, not a year from now. If I thought I could get away with it, not ever. But I can hardly be rude to my mother’s guests, can I?”
“No, I suppose not.” He held up his hands in a gesture of conciliation he didn’t feel.
“I’ll put in a good word for you.” Swimmer frowned and shook his head. “But I’m sorry to say, I’m not sure it will help.”
Swimmer was wrong, of course. Emme was coming ‘round to his way of thinking. Swimmer and Granville simply couldn’t see it, as it was something Emme and he shared, just the two of them. As if she could feel him watching her, she glanced at him, and in that moment, he was sure she read every lovelorn line written on his heart.
* * *
Emme knew she shouldn’t stare, but Daniel had never looked at her the way he was right now. In fact, no man she had ever met had regarded her with such a mix of passion, possessiveness, and something else. Was it fear? If her own emotions rose in response to his, then it had to be, for those were the three overwhelming sensations that made it nigh on impossible to tear her gaze away from him.
“Emme, the duke approaches,” her brother whispered.
She managed to shift her attention away from Daniel’s intense scrutiny, but then she smiled too broadly and laughed too loudly. If she kept up this behavior, by the end of the evening she’d have everyone worried she was afflicted with some form of madness. She wished she had some poetic words to describe it, as James or Tessa would, but she was no student of poetry, and any words that could adequately capture what had passed between Daniel and her in the space of several heartbeats would cause a scandal.
If you won’t have him, you owe it to him to let him go. Tessa’s words came back to Emme, and the room was all at once too warm and too cold.
She exchanged pleasantries with the duke, who was the epitome of politeness to her, but who seemed much more interested in exchanging friendly barbs with Edward about a long-overdue fencing match. The duke then moved a few feet away to speak with their parents, who wore identical looks of fawning mixed with satisfaction. Guilt clogged Emme’s throat, but pretending she was interested in the duke’s attention did more than provide a means to an end. It offered a respite from her parents’ war of silence. She’d torn them asunder, and now she had the opportunity to reunite them. Even if it was a short-lived ruse, being on the same side of something—anything—for a few days or a week might be the balm that soothed her parents’ wounds long enough to heal.
Emme suddenly needed the comfort of a friend’s hand on hers. “Luci is here somewhere. I spotted Lord Fairbank when we arrived. I have yet to see the Alcotts.”
“The Alcotts are gaining notoriety as London’s most fashionably late couple.” Edward smirked. “Shameful.”
“Aren’t they just.” Emme laughed and leaned against her brother’s arm, heartened that she already had the comfort of a dear friend by her side.
“But before we find Lady Lucinda, perhaps we should swallow the medicine.”
Emme’s next step faltered. “You mean…”
“Hallsworth. It seems he’s everywhere we go these days. Though I must say you’re a good sport about it, indulging him in conversation.”
“Mr. Hallsworth and I have no quarrel.”
If only they had, it might be easier to help him plan his future without her. Daniel’s project was progressing nicely, and soon hers would be, too. No need to avoid him, despite her initial reaction upon seeing him across the room. Now was the time to get used to it. After all, this was how it would be one day when he was a married man and she was a confirmed spinster.
“Let’s say hello.” Emme squared her shoulders as they crossed the room.
“Lady Emme,” Daniel said.
“Mr. Hallsworth.” She managed to smile, not madly or falsely, but genuinely.
“Meriden.” Daniel stuck out his hand.
“Hallsworth.” Edward shook his hand quickly and withdrew it.
The air in the room, still hot and cold all at once, was suddenly stifling, too. Emme laid her hand on her upper chest, willing herself to breathe more easily.
“Your gown is lovely, Lady Emme,” Daniel said. “Then again, green is always becoming on you.”
She blushed under his intense gaze and easy compliment, and glanced down at the dress that was from a few Season’s earlier to hide her uncontrollable reaction to him. The possessiveness and fear, now mixed with a deep yearning, overcame her. She clung to her brother’s arm for support.
“Are there spirits to be had?” Edward asked.
Daniel nodded. “I recommend the duke’s cognac.”
“Sounds perfect for after dinner, with a good cheroot,” Edward said.
“Or perhaps now.” Emme laid her hand on Edward’s forearm. “I could do with a glass of it myself.”
Edward patted her hand. “I understand there’s a nice punch available for the ladies. I’ll get a cup for you. At the same time, maybe I’ll impose upon the duke to share some of his stash.” He looked intently at his sister. “Care to join me?”
She sighed. “Well, if there’s no cognac in it for me, I might as well stay here and warm myself by the fire.”
A look passed between the two men, then both gave a nearly imperceptible nod. “I’ll be back momentarily.” Edward squeezed her hand, then stepped away from her, glancing back over his shoulder almost immediately.
She waved her hand in the air, then smiled at Daniel. “You’ll have to forgive him. He’s a bit overprotective. Nothing like Lady Lucinda’s father, at least.”
“Yes, Fairbank’s been shooting ominous looks at me all evening. Now that you’ve been led like a lamb to stand beside the wolf, maybe he’ll be a bit less formidable.”
She touched his sleeve, then withdrew her gloved hand immediately. “Forgive me. I was merely going to point out that the best way to remove yourself from Lord Fairbank’s sights is to become affianced to someone who is not his daughter.” Please, please, please to do not court my dear friend.
Daniel smiled, though Emme thought it a bit half-hearted. “Trying to marry me off so quickly, Lady Emme?”
She clasped and unclasped her hands in front of her. “I’m trying to help the duchess with her pet project.”
Daniel chuckled. “Well, I’ve been called worse than both a pet and a project over the years, my lady. And how goes your own pet project?”
“Quite well.”
Emme rolled forward on the balls of her feet, so pleased he’d asked. Again. He never missed an opportunity to ferret out exactly what it was she was doing to help the two families she’d taken under her wing. As ever, she was excited to report her progress in securing work for Mrs. Billings.
“The miniature paintings are coming along nicely. We have several ladies anxious to have their young children’s faces immortalized in lockets.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice. “I feel almost wicked, preying on the sentimentality of young mothers, but the truth is, if not Mrs. Billings to do their portraits, then someone else, and after all, she needs to support her own child.”
Daniel’s smile had faded. “Wicked is hardly a word one would associate with you, Emme.”
She laid her hand on her chest again. “It’s so warm in here, it’s difficult to catch a breath.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Daniel set down his glass and held out his hand to her. “Just a moment ago, you mentioned needing to warm yourself by the fire.”
“Did I?” She waved his hand away. “No, I’m fine.” Still, she stepped a few feet away from the fire.
“I was just trying to guilt Edward into sneaking me a quaff.” She endeavored to appear more collected. “Have I told you about Mrs. Carter? She and her children live with Mrs. Billings and her daughter. It seems she has quite a hand for fine stitch-work. As you can imagine, there’s no end to embroidery needed by the ladies of the ton.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Founding cottage industries, are you? I wasn’t aware the Spinsters’ Club operated that way.”
“They don’t, not yet. I’m hoping to bring them ‘round to some new ideas.”
He smiled. “You’re always a breath of fresh air.” His smile faded. “But your father looks less than pleased at the moment. If I had to wager, I’d say you’re spending too much time with the wrong marriageable man.”
Emme didn’t risk a glance in her father’s direction. “He still has plans for the duke and me, I’m afraid. Luckily, I have my own plan.”
“Oh? I’ve never met a woman with so many plans. Tell me.”
His gentle entreaty sent a delicious spark down her spine. She ignored it and took a deep breath to steady her voice. “We both know the duke won’t entertain the thought of new wife this year. He’s still in mourning.”
“Is he?” Daniel glanced at his friend. “Hm. Perhaps he is.”
“Really, do men even pay attention?” She shook her head. “Anyway, all I have to do is seem amenable to my father’s plan, then strike a bargain with him. I’ll entertain the duke’s offer to court me, and will even accept his offer of marriage.”
Daniel’s face darkened, then he widened his eyes. “Offers which will never come.”
“Precisely.” She bounced on her toes again, so pleased with her plan, she couldn’t contain herself. “The caveat will be that if the duke doesn’t propose by summer, or cuts off a courtship at any time before that, my father will allow me to remain unmarried and turn over my dowry to me.”
“And why would the Earl of Limely take that offer?”
“Because he knows a good bargain when he hears it.” Emme smiled as she watched her father and brother, both now held in place by the duchess’s attention. “He knows the duke could find me most unpleasant if I were disinclined to court.”
“So, to secure your good behavior and open the door to the possibility of hooking a duke on the line, you believe your father will agree to this plan of yours.”
“I do. Mother agrees with me. Edward seems skeptical.” She frowned. Her brother actually seemed rather pessimistic, but had agreed to support her. “Don’t you think it’s a clever plan?”
“Oh, yes. Lord protect me from ever having a daughter as clever as you.” Daniel took a swig of his drink, but his glass was already empty. “Damn it.”
“I thought you’d be pleased for me.” At least she’d hoped as much. She desperately wanted him to be impressed by her cunning.
“Forgive me, Lady Emme. It’s just that I find myself parched and in need of another drink. Here comes your brother now, dismissed from his audience with the duchess, and bringing you the promised cup of punch.” He inclined his head. “Meriden.”
“Hallsworth.”
Daniel bowed ever so slightly in her direction. “Have a wonderful evening, my lady.”
Emme smiled. “You, too, sir.”
Edward took Emme’s arm and gently steered her toward Luci, who now stood with the newly arrived Tessa and Mr. Alcott. Emme was buoyed by their presence, but suddenly she was also exhausted. She stole one glance over her shoulder, in Daniel’s direction. But he’d already made his way to the duke, and the two were deep in conversation while the duke poured a glass of spirits for each of them, his conversation with Emme was no doubt already forgotten.
This was how it would be in the coming years. Their eyes might meet across a crowded room, they might have that moment of recognition that neither shared with anyone else, one or both of them might even wish for things to be different. But all would be as it must. They would exchange pleasantries, go their separate ways, and endure their lonely lives.
* * *
“Don’t look at her, not even a glance,” Daniel told Swimmer. “She can’t know we’re discussing her.” He focused his attention on the glass of whisky his friend was pouring for him.
As soon as he’d seen Daniel approaching, Swimmer had signaled for a servant to bring something stronger than an aperitif.
“If you need someone skilled in intrigue, perhaps it’s time to enlist the help of Fairbank,” Swimmer said.
Daniel stole a furtive look at the mysterious man, who had been facing the opposite direction but immediately pivoted to make eye contact. Daniel looked away. “How does he do that? It doesn’t matter. This is a job only you can do.”
Swimmer sipped his whisky and looked across the room at his mother. “You know this is going to put me in her bad graces for months.”
“That’ll be nothing new for you. Besides, can you really compare a few months of discomfort to my lifetime without Emme?”
Swimmer pointed at Daniel. “That. See, that is what Granville’s been warning me about for weeks—that your schemes with my mother would give you false hope.” Swimmer took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Hallsy, it might be time—”
“No.” Daniel tossed
back his drink in one swallow and set down his glass. “Not yet, not while there’s still a way to stop Emme’s ridiculous plan. If she gets her father’s permission and her hands on her dowry, it will be over. You can’t let that happen. You can help me stop her.”
“The things I do for the Five.” Swimmer angled himself away from the crowd in the room and dipped two fingers into his whisky. He dabbed liquor on his jaw, neck, and the edge of his shirt under his cravat.
“Were you really threatening me with Broadmoor earlier?”
Swimmer took a swig of his drink and set it down. “If I’m going to humiliate myself in front of some of the ton’s biggest gossips and draw my mother’s ire, I’m going to fall back on the oldest excuse in our book.”
Daniel grinned. “Swimmer, old friend, I do believe you’re stewed.”
“Give me a pat on the back as I walk away, just a small one.”
Daniel obliged, and Swimmer stumbled ever so slightly with his next step. He looked back at Daniel and laughed too loudly, drawing discreet glances from those closest to them. As Daniel watched his friend, he was careful not to smile at his performance.
“Anything I should know?” The duchess drew alongside Daniel.
Daniel shrugged. “It appears your son might have had a bit much to drink before dinner, ma’am.”
“How odd.” The duchess arched one eyebrow. “I’ve seen him imbibe twice as much and not slur a word.”
“That is odd.”
“Are you referring to your son’s unfortunate behavior, duchess?” Fairbank had crossed the room quickly and quietly.
Daniel was even less comfortable receiving the man’s attention up close than when there’d been a room between them. The duchess, however, was unfazed.
“No need to be dramatic,” she told him. “He’s enjoying himself, something he doesn’t do often enough these days.”
“I’ll remind you, madam,” Fairbank said, fixing her with a withering stare, “there are young ladies present.”
The duchess sighed. “Your daughter hardly seems interested in the duke’s animated conversation with the Radcliffe men.” She glanced at Daniel. “A conversation that might be quite interesting, isn’t that right, Mr. Hallsworth?”
One Kiss From Ruin: Harrow’s Finest Five Book 1 Page 14