“Please accept this as a token of my endless devotion to you, my dear.”
Emily lifted the lid of the box. Despite her reservations about wearing such a jewel, a gasp escaped her. The necklace was breathtaking. Lying upon a bed of creamy-white satin, the Heart of Kingston shone brilliant in its beauty as it sparkled and glistened beneath the candlelight.
“It looks even more beautiful now than it did at the auction.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then say nothing.”
She looked up. Nicholas’s eyes shone with unmistakeable affection and her heart skipped a beat. Every now and then, his childhood fondness for her shone in his eyes. Her shoulders relaxed a little even though apprehension tightened around them like an ill-fitting cape. Was his frequent derision toward her a façade to protect his father’s name as a ruthless businessman? Maybe the pressure of living up to the Milne name became heavier for him every day.
Wasn’t she as equally guilty of such a charade—albeit from a different standpoint?
“Thank you. It’s beautiful, Nicholas. Truly.”
“May I?”
He held out his hand and she passed him the box. With careful precision, he took the necklace from its bed and gestured for her permission to clasp it around her neck. She nodded and stood. When she heard the faint click of the necklace locking into place, Emily closed her eyes. A ball being fitted to a chain. Nicholas’s fingers lingered for an unnecessarily long time at her nape and nausea swirled inside her.
“There. Now you belong to me.” His breath whispered hot against her ear.
She stiffened before snapping her eyes wide open and spinning around. Angry words battled on her tongue, pinched and bit at the inside of her mouth like tiny daggers of poisoned injustice. Her fingers trembled when she touched the jewel lying on her chest.
“Indeed. Duly collared and kept.”
A flash of color assaulted his cheeks and affront raged instantaneously in his eyes. Emily turned to her father, who remained seated. His brow was so furrowed she could’ve balanced a row of shillings in the depth of the craters.
“Shall we make haste? I would hate to miss the start of the ball.”
He rose unsteadily to his feet and Emily cupped her hand to his elbow. They all moved to the drawing room door. The glimpse of the old Nicholas she’d grown up admiring clearly no longer existed. He wanted her and he had her. Hopelessness and anger waged a war behind Emily’s ribcage. They entered the hallway and at the appearance of her father’s footman bearing their coats, he and Nicholas left her alone.
Emily stepped toward Annie, who waited patiently by the door holding open Emily’s mantelet.
“Thank you, Annie.” The maid laid it over her shoulders.
“Miss?”
“Yes?”
“The Mckendrys have arrived asking if you, your father, and Mr. Milne would like to travel to the ball with them rather than taking Mr. Milne’s carriage also.”
“Well, I—”
“What a splendid idea.” Her father beamed, coming alongside her. “I do so miss my friend Mr. Mckendry.”
Emily looked at Nicholas. His green eyes shone with triumph and unease rippled along the surface of her skin. “Nicholas?”
A slow smile curved his lips. “As nice as I am sure Mr. and Mrs. Mckendry’s carriage is, I would much rather escort you to the ball myself.” He turned to her father. “If, of course, you haven’t any objections, sir?”
Emily stared. Go alone with Nicholas to the ball? Trapped within his carriage like an animal in a cage. Her father looked from Nicholas to her and back again, a dark flush of color pinching his cheeks. “I will leave that choice to my daughter. Emily?”
Icy-cold perspiration broke out at the neckline of her dress. Her father’s gaze was distrusting, Nicholas’s challenging. Anger rose up behind her breast. How dare Nicholas so openly test her in front of her father? Well, if he thought he could intimidate her, he was wrong. She tilted her chin.
“I think that will be quite all right seeing as we are to be married shortly. You go with Mr. and Mrs. Mckendry, Papa. Nicholas and I will meet you at the Assembly Rooms.”
Her father’s hesitation was palpable. “Are you quite certain?” She forced a wide smile. “I am.”
Their gazes locked for a moment longer before her father exhaled a heavy breath. “As you wish, my dear.”
Emily turned to Annie. “Will you help my father outside please?”
She dipped her head. “Of course, Miss.”
Inhaling a long breath, Emily faced Nicholas and took his offered arm. They walked outside in silence.
Her father was assisted inside the Mckendrys’ carriage and disappeared without as much as a backward glance. Once the horses moved forward and the carriage was a distance away, Nicholas cleared his throat. Emily kept her gaze on the shrinking carriage until it was out of sight.
“Shall we climb aboard, my love?” He steered her toward his carriage.
Nicholas’s family carriage was beautiful. Painted deep burgundy with gold edging and lanterns that glowed beneath the street’s oil lamps. It was yet another public symbol of his inherited wealth. A wealth that would never be enough to ensure their happiness even when their marriage came to fruition.
Emily placed her fingers on the carriage door handle and looked to the velvet black sky. It was a beautiful night. She should have felt excited, in love, yet . . .
She entered the carriage. The interior was equally as luxurious as the exterior. The seats upholstered in plush gold-colored velvet, the walls lined with a paler gold cloth around two huge round windows on either side, a smaller one at the back. It was fit for a princess and it only reinforced the knowledge that her future stood to change beyond recognition if she and Nicholas did not marry.
She’d be destitute without a penny. Her father’s physician’s fees had taken the last of their funds and there was nothing left. Frustration burned in her eyes as Emily ran her hands over the smooth softness of the seats and gathered every ounce of strength. From that moment on she would do her utmost to make things more amicable between her and Nicholas. If his suspicion that she wasn’t happy about the union were roused any more, he might do anything to ruin her ambitions for a fairer future.
The carriage jolted and pulled away. They sat in silence as the horses clip-clopped through the cobbled streets toward the Assembly Rooms. Emily stared out the window, paying no heed to the spires of the passing Bath Abbey or the couples walking arm in arm enjoying the late spring evening. Her mind whirled with a million and one thoughts and worries.
She needed to ensure she and Nicholas passed the next few hours with at least a modicum of enjoyment. All would be well if Nicholas accepted their marriage on a more even keel. He was a young man with a vision for more. Surely he would come to accept her need to be involved in their future decision making, past home and hearth?
Nicholas moved close enough that the heat of his thigh seared through the material of Emily’s dress. Despite her best intentions for the evening, she stiffened.
“You really do look wonderful tonight.” The soft tone of his voice filled the carriage. “Extraordinarily so. In fact, you quite took my breath away when you entered the drawing room.”
Emily turned. Only sincerity showed in his dark gaze. Surprised, she forced a smile. “Thank you.”
He smiled and faced front once more.
In the amber glow of the evening light bathing the interior of the carriage, his handsome profile was difficult to ignore. His compliment surely meant he wanted the evening to be as much of a success as she did.
“I’m looking forward to this evening.” She sat straighter in her seat. “It’s been an absolute age since I danced.”
His gaze wandered over her face before he touched his finger gently to her jaw. “And that, my love, is a shame because you dance so beautifully. I trust you will allow me the pleasure of your first?”
“I would very m
uch like that.”
She smiled even as tension flickered through her shoulders. She suspected an ulterior motive to his kindness but endeavored to keep up the façade of peace between them. She turned to the window. Her mind filled with the jealousy ignited amongst her peers upon the announcement of their engagement. She’d thought it daft and entirely unnecessary bearing in mind Nicholas’s recent mood changes, but when he behaved like this, a small part of her understood his appeal.
She let him take her hand when he reached for it.
“You know, many people will be watching us tonight.” He drew gentle circles over her glove with his thumb. “You are considered very lucky to be my fiancée. I trust you feel blessed?”
Disappointment crashed into her heart like a herd of wild horses. She exhaled a heavy breath. “Oh, Nicholas, why do you insist on being this way?”
His smile dissolved. “What way is that?”
She waved her free hand in the air, looking to pluck the adjectives she needed from thin air. “So . . . superior.”
He choked out a laugh. “Superior? Well, isn’t that what I am to you, my love?”
Heat seared Emily’s cheeks. “Maybe in the social world, but do you have to stress it when we are alone? Could we not just be Emily and Nicholas?”
“Do you not mean Nicholas and Emily?”
She thrust her hand from his and glowered. “Very well, Nicholas and Emily. Either way, I would like to enjoy a few moments with you without feeling you are the master and I little more than a puppet. We were once . . . friends. We enjoyed each other’s company. I never felt as though I had to bow and scrape to you.”
He stared. “I make you feel that way?”
She swallowed. “Occasionally, yes. We are to be married. I’d like you to respect me, at the very least.”
He dipped his head. “I apologize. It is not my intention to make you feel that way.”
Careful not to show surprise at his compliance, Emily felt a strange sense of waiting for the hammer pounding in her head, to fall. The seconds ticked by and she cleared her throat. “Then let’s say no more about it and try our utmost to enjoy the ball. I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time.”
“I have yet to be convinced.”
The hammer fell and Emily’s hackles rose. She clutched her fingers around her drawstring bag in a bid to curb her frustration. “Oh?”
He flicked his fingers across his trouser leg. “As we are confessing how each of us makes the other feel, I have a small issue I’ve been struggling with.”
Not trusting herself to speak, Emily waited for him to continue.
He met her eyes. His gaze cold. “I sometimes feel it is hard for you to be within ten feet of me, my love. You so often look as though you wish to flee from my company at any given moment.”
Asking for God’s forgiveness for her impending falsehood, Emily gave a small laugh. “There isn’t anywhere else I would rather be than here with you. Now, can we please try—”
He lifted his hand with such swiftness, Emily flinched. He didn’t grip her arm or her chin as she feared. Instead, he fingered the precious jewel around her neck.
“You need to understand I am not foolish enough to bestow gifts such as this without expecting some kind of remuneration.”
The insinuation was rife. Her stomach lurched. “Am I not remuneration enough?”
His gaze snapped from the jewel to her eyes. “You are, if I have all of you. Partial compensation is not an option.”
“I am not a bargaining tool, Nicholas.” The remainder of her self-control snapped despite knowing the risk she took to ruin the entirety of the evening by arguing with him. She could not stand him treating her as though she was nothing more than a bag of horse manure with which to trade. “This constant struggle between us needs to stop.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “Clearly you are not as compliant to our fathers’ wishes as I was led to believe.”
She stared at him. “Is what you expect from me at all times? Compliance?”
His laugh was derisive. “Is that not what all men expect of their wives?”
Her heart pounded. “I will do what is best for the people I love, but that doesn’t mean I will bark and beg and roll over for you on command.”
“Do you want to marry me, Emily?”
No! No! No! Bitterness rose in her throat. “I want us to be husband and wife, to build a life together. That does not mean I won’t voice my opinion or occasionally disagree with you.”
His smile turned wolverine. “You really have so much to learn. I wish, too, that we be husband and wife . . . in every way. Yet I simply see no pleasure in your eyes when you look at me.” His gaze drifted slowly over her face. “Even though I am well aware you are capable of looking at a man in a manner indicative of physical attraction.”
She opened her mouth to ask what he meant but her voice was silenced when he raised his hand and looked past her toward the window. “Ah, we are here. We will have to resume this conversation another time.”
Panic pressed down on Emily’s chest. Everything Nicholas said or did of late was shrouded with threat. Tension assaulted her neck and shoulders as the carriage stopped in front of the Assembly Rooms. She forced her trepidation aside and gathered her skirts.
“Why don’t we push these silly disagreements away and instead be determined to enjoy ourselves?”
He stopped, his fingers on the door handle. “I concur entirely. Just so you know, I have seen your smile directed at one man in particular, in a much more captivating fashion than you have ever once smiled at me. So be careful, Emily. Be very careful.”
Perspiration struck cold along the neckline of her dress. “Nicholas, really. I have no idea of whom you speak. Shall we?”
His hand whipped out and gripped her wrist. “Of course you know. I speak of none other than your friend Mr. Samson.”
He tossed her arm away and pushed open the door. Emily stared after him, her mouth wide, devoid of retort or denial. Dread curdled her blood like soured milk. She moved unsteadily to the door and took Nicholas’s offered hand as he waited outside.
Chapter Three
Emily stepped down from the carriage and the excited chatter of the women and the raucous jibing of the gentlemen talking outside the Assembly Rooms entrance greeted her. Smartly dressed and elegantly coiffed, they stood around in a haze of jubilance. The distinct smell of rose water and cigars filled the night air.
She stepped forward with her head held high and forced the exchange with Nicholas to the back of her mind. She would face the rest of the evening with a smile on her face and dancing angels at her feet. There would be plenty of time to worry about his further scolding tomorrow and indeed the day after that.
Arm in arm, they walked inside. Her father stood in the antechamber. Unobserved, he looked older than his forty-five years, his body stooped where it had once stood straight, and pain contorted his expression as he focused on what a fellow guest said. He turned and his anguished face softened. Emily returned his smile, even though her heart broke for the man who only wanted the best for her.
He nodded before resuming conversation with the gentleman standing to his side. Emily glanced at Nicholas. His green eyes gleamed beneath the candles burning in the wall sconces all around them; his dark blond hair shone and his pale skin glowed pink with health.
Yet his distraction showed in his shifting gaze as it moved around the antechamber, his jaw tight. Emily swallowed the words itching at her tongue. Having seen the same look on his face many times before, she sensed Nicholas was wary, on guard, waiting for something to happen. When Nicholas was nervous, it meant everyone else should be too. She wanted to reassure him all was well between them, wanted to make him believe their marriage would be a happy one. How could she utter such things when doubts tumbled through her blood on an unending wave?
He abruptly turned, his face softening as he smiled. “Shall we go through to the ballroom?”
She smiled. “I�
�d love to.”
An attendant took her mantelet and then she and Nicholas walked arm in arm into the main ballroom. Emily admired the ornately carved cornices, high windows, and secluded gallery filled with suited musicians. Nicholas led her around the grand room, smiling and nodding hello to acquaintances. Prisms of light from the three enormous crystal chandeliers bounced from soft yellow walls. The Assembly Rooms reigned supreme as the perfect background for people to play the giddy game of socializing, courting, and remembering. If only she were there to watch rather than be watched.
“Ah, I see an acquaintance I must speak with.” Nicholas’s voice broke through her contemplation. “I will be just a few moments. Will you be all right standing alone?”
“Of course. You go.”
He lingered a moment longer before giving a curt nod and moving away. As the minutes passed, Emily relaxed enough to watch the six or seven couples dancing. Her foot tapped to the music beneath the curtain of her dress and when a waiter walked past, she lifted a glass of champagne from his silver tray. Bringing it to her lips, she swallowed a delicious sip—and the bubbles promptly caught in her throat.
It couldn’t be.
She snatched a harried glance at Nicholas. Thankfully, he was engrossed in a conversation with a gentleman she did not know. She risked another look.
Mr. Samson laughed raucously within a circle of men he clearly entertained, their drinks forgotten in their hands as they listened in rapt male appreciation. Emily’s stomach swirled and her mind raced. She’d never been so absurdly pleased to see a member of the opposite sex in her life. Blithely forgetting her wish to never set eyes on Mr. Samson again and for Nicholas not to detect her attraction, she stared at his wickedly handsome face.
“Daughter? What on earth are you grinning at?” Her father approached from the side.
With her eyes on Mr. Samson, Emily couldn’t fight the pull at her lips. “Nothing, Papa. Nothing at all.”
Rachel Brimble Page 3