Emma released the breath she had not realized she had been holding. Her fears had been unjust, and the smile he wore told her she had nothing about which to worry.
“I do not want you to leave my side, Emma.”
His words shocked her despite the sweet melody they sung to her heart. Pain inside her broke away, and like a cool breeze, soothed her soul. The man spoke highly of her, but she had lied to him. For some reason, a tugging in her heart told her she must tell him the truth. The confession could earn his ire and send her away brokenhearted. It could also ruin her completely. However, it needed to be told, for, eventually, he would learn it, and she did not wish to be mired too deeply to save herself when that moment came.
“Lucas,” she said as she looked down at the hands that held hers. She turned to look at the small graveyard on the opposite side of the small iron fence beside them, the final resting place of those who had passed on into the next realm. “I am not all that I appear to be.” She gazed up at him and swallowed hard. The words needed to be spoken. “In fact, I believe before you say any more, I must tell you something very important.”
“Of course,” he said, concern written on his features. “What is it?”
“My father,” she whispered.
“Yes? What about him?”
“He has not been traveling on business.”
Chapter Fifteen
Emma walked beside Lucas, each step piercing her heart more. It seemed only fitting that a storm was gathering in the south, the dark clouds seeming to race toward them in order to oppress the air around them all the more. Emma had kept her secret close for long enough, and truth be told, she was exhausted. The lies and the weight of keeping the business her father had worked so hard to build from failing had become a burden she could no longer bear.
“I feel I have hurt you,” Lucas said as they walked past a small row of headstones. “Perhaps this outing was not the best of ideas.”
“You have done nothing,” she replied. “You shared your heart, and now I wish to share mine.” They came to the last row of headstones, and she led him to one that sat beside a stone wall. Although her heart was heavy, somehow, with Lucas at her side, she stopped before it. “Two years ago, my father suffered a stroke.”
“I am sorry,” Lucas said. “I truly am.”
“At first, I thought he would recover, for he never gave up the fight.” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she did nothing to stop them. “From his bed, he continued to work on the ledgers, or attempted to do so.” She dabbed at her eyes with a kerchief Lucas offered her. “Thank you,” she said and then continued. “However, as the days became weeks, he grew weaker. He lost the use of his hands, then his sight…”
Lucas held her hand, and she felt a comfort in his grip.
“At the same time, more business fell to the wayside, and I began to take over the books for him. He had taught me so much already, but I was overwhelmed. Then came the hard times when people began to struggle. Barons, marquesses, even the butcher lost everything. Many lost their homes, fortunes vanished, debts increased, and even smaller businesses such as mine were left unpaid.” She shook her head at the memories, for those had been terrible days indeed. “I found myself struggling to tend to both my father and the business. That is when Stephen came to my aid.”
“Stephen,” Lucas repeated. “Yes, your assistant.”
“He is more than that; he is my dearest friend. He told me I was strong and that I would be able to help my father and keep his business from failing. He promised to stop drinking and help me.” She laughed at the memory. “He slid back to his old ways only once in the beginning, but after that, he has never had a drink since, at least as far as I know.” She sighed. “Last year…” Now the tears rushed down her face, and she allowed them to do so, for they cleansed her soul. “One day, my father never woke from his sleep.”
Lucas pulled her against him, and for the first time, she wept. Oh, she had allowed tears to fall before, but she had always stifled them as quickly as they started. She knew that, once they began, she would struggle to stem their flow. Now, with her face pressed against his chest, she released the sorrow that had gathered behind the dam that kept her from falling apart for so long. And he held her close without saying anything until she was able to pull away in order to finish what remained of her confession.
“So, you see, I have been running his business, making excuses for his absence, all the while I have been tending to the ledgers myself in his name.”
“I had no idea,” he said. Thunder rumbled around them, but they ignored it. “I am terribly sorry for your loss and the pain you have been forced to carry.”
She wiped away the tears with the kerchief. “I have tried so hard to keep this business going. And Stephen…he has done so well securing new accounts. For the first time in a long time, I believe the business will return to its former success.”
“With you at the head of it, it surely will,” Lucas said with a smile despite the light rain that began to fall upon them. “I only spoke with your father on a few occasions, but I know he would be proud of you.” He placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him. “I know I am.”
Emma found his words soothed her aching heart, but one more thing would ease her further. “You have helped me today,” she said as she gazed up at him. “And learning from you, I will take your advice.”
“How so?”
“I think I need to speak to my father.”
He smiled down at her. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I will wait for you in the carriage.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He walked away and soon disappeared from sight. Emma looked back at the simple grave marking. There was so much to tell the man, but she knew he had always preferred his conversations to be short.
“Father,” she whispered as she knelt and brushed a leaf from the stone. “I believe in a short time, the business will once more be profitable.” She pulled several weeds from the ground before her as she spoke. “Stephen has given up the drink, and I have met a very special man. You know him. Lucas Redstone. Yes, the Duke of Rainierd.” She smiled and wiped tears from her eyes. “He makes me happy, Father, and I know I make him feel the same.” She laughed as she imagined her father questioning her feelings for the duke.
“I know it has been a short time since I have known him. However, I cannot help but care for the man. Do not worry, I am not going to marry him, at least not any time soon.” She laughed again.
“Things have improved and they will only continue to get better with each day.” She stood and gave the stone a final smile. “Thank you for showing me that which is strength, for it has guided me throughout my life.”
With a sigh, she kissed her fingertips and then placed them on the top of the stone as the first spits of true rain began to fall. With a smile and a heart less heavy than when she arrived, Emma returned to the carriage.
***
Although rain from a dreary sky lashed against the window, Emma was anything but dreary. She had released a burden that had settled upon her heart, just as Lucas had done. As he sat across from her, he pretended to be enthralled by something outside the carriage window, but she had caught him glancing in her direction more than once.
“I wanted to thank you for allowing me to share with you,” she said. “I feel a sense of relief. For sharing it and for you not using it against me.”
“Never,” he replied. “My father had been adamant that women knew nothing of business, and I must admit that I had believed the same at one time.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “Now I know better.”
Heat warmed her cheeks and she wondered if it was possible to feel such strong feelings in such a short amount of time. Her friend, Heather, had met a man for whom she professed her love the very next day. At the time, Emma had thought it ridiculous, but now, she found she understood her friend’s feelings.
The carriage came to a stop in front of the shop. She
knew it was time for her to leave, but one thing plagued her mind. “Earlier, you mentioned something about us. Did you have something more you wished to tell me?”
“I did,” Lucas replied with a small smile. “However, I believe it might be best to wait until our dinner on Saturday. We have both had an emotional day.”
The man was right. Her emotions were tangled, and time to organize her thoughts—and perhaps a nap—was in order. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I will see you on Saturday.”
“I look forward to it,” he replied. When she went to alight from the carriage, he caught her by the arm. “I think there is a lot more we can share with one another. However, for now, I want to thank you for all you have done for me, as well.”
As he smiled, Emma noticed lightning flash behind him in the distance. It was only a week earlier when she thought that a sign of his anger, something that brought her fear. Now, however, it brought about a new feeling, one of hope and, dare she say, love?
“Goodbye,” she said and then signaled to the waiting driver to open the door. Stepping out, she let out a laugh as the rain immediately soaked her dress. She rushed to the door, turning to wave before going inside.
What a change today had been. Business was increasing, the duke had learned how to keep his ledgers—and his temper—under control, and for the first time in her life, Emma was contemplating love. It was a beautiful feeling, a marvelous feeling. She wished she had someone with whom she could share this wondrous news, but all of her friends were married and had moved away.
When she opened the door to the office, she stepped inside. Stephen sat at the desk with a ledger in his hands. Although the man could not read, he played his part well.
“Miss Emma?” he asked, placing the book on the desk and rushing to her. “Are you all right?”
She laughed. “I have never been better. In fact, I believe I am in love!”
Chapter Sixteen
Saturday was upon Emma before she knew it, and she had set aside the pile of ledgers earlier than usual in order to ready herself for the evening. The pale blue dress with its intricate lace around the neckline and tiny flowers embroidered across the bodice had been her mother’s, and the thought of it stored away in a trunk made her want to weep. It was with great happiness when she donned it that it had fit her perfectly; no need to let it out or bring it in. To share such characteristics with her mother was a pleasure, for it kept the memory of the woman alive.
Her hair had not been as simple to address. It took her several attempts at putting it in place in an intricate chignon before she gave up and simply pinned it back and left two curls hanging down on either side of her face. How women of the ton wore such complicated styles, she did not know, but having a lady’s maid most certainly made all the difference in the world.
The perfume she applied had been given to her by her father three years earlier. She had saved it for special occasions, and what could be more special than an invitation to dinner with the man one loved?
With one last look in the mirror, she affirmed that she was as ready as she would ever be and made her way down the narrow staircase that connected her private living quarters, as tiny as they were, with the office below. Sitting in his usual seat was Stephen, who jumped up when she entered the room, his eyes wide and his smile great.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked, lifting her skirts and turning around. “Do you think the duke will like it?”
“Oh, Miss Emma,” he said, “if any man doesn’t recognize your beauty, he’s a fool.”
Emma giggled. “You are too kind,” she said, giving him a small kiss on his stubbly cheek. Then she glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. “I suppose I am not very good at this dressing for dinner thing; I still have an hour to wait before the carriage comes to retrieve me.”
Before Stephen could respond, a rasp came to the door. Emma peered out the window and saw the outline of a carriage waiting. “It seems Lucas has no patience, either. But an hour early? He must be mad!” Despite her words, she giggled at the thought that she had been ready despite the fact he had sent the carriage early.
It felt as if she was floating upon the clouds as she opened the door, but then she frowned. This driver did not belong to Lucas.
“Miss Emma Barrington?” the man asked.
“Yes, I am she.”
“I am your driver,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes, I am,” she replied, though she wondered what had happened to Walburg. The driver had been a kind man with a bright smile; however, he was getting up there in years, so perhaps he had retired, and this man was his replacement. It was not as if Lucas kept Emma informed on what staff he retained or released. “Let me just get my wrap.”
Once her wrap was settled on her shoulders, she gave Stephen a quick hug. “Wish me luck,” she whispered in his ear.
“It will be perfect. And don’t you worry about the office. I’ll be here in case new clients come calling.”
“Thank you,” she replied, suppressing a giggle. What clients would come calling after dark on a Saturday? She shook her head. The man did all he could to be helpful, and in all honesty, she could not have survived without him.
“I am ready,” she said when she reached the door. The driver bowed to her before helping her into the carriage—she almost giggled again; having someone bow to her was not something to which she was accustomed—and soon the carriage was trumbling down the street.
Emma leaned back into the cushions. She did not realize Lucas had more than one carriage, but he was a duke after all. More than likely he had several. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander. Perhaps after their dinner, they would take a stroll through his gardens again. There they would share their hearts and he would take her hands into his. As they gazed into each other’s eyes, they would profess their love for one another. How deeply those feelings ran inside Lucas, she did not know, but she suspected they were like hers; that is to say, they were great.
Then she imagined him leaning in and kissing her. Would it be a gentle kiss, one of caution? One so soft she would float away? No, for his strong hands would hold her in place. Perhaps it would be a kiss of passion, one of urgency.
Regardless of the type of kiss, it would be the first of many, and as their love for each other grew, one day he would ask for her hand in marriage. Of course, she would accept. They would have a gaggle of children and share a loving home. She would have to give up keeping the books in order to mind the children, but other bookkeepers could take up that task. A duchess did not do such things, did she? One thing was certain, however. Stephen would take the room upstairs above the shop and remain on the payroll assisting the new manager. She would see to that.
She had been so lost in her thoughts that, when the carriage came to a stop and she opened her eyes, she stared in shock at what was not the grand house of Bonehedge Estate but rather the home of Lord Miggs.
***
Fear knotted Emma’s stomach as she was led through the foyer and into the drawing room. The baron stood near a single bookcase, his silver hair pushed forward as was the style for many of the ton these days. His large stomach pressed against the well-tailored coat, and the lace on his heavily starched shirt stood straight up, grazing his chin.
“Ah, Miss Barrington,” he said in a voice that echoed in the room. He spoke as if the room was filled with people, but when she glanced around, they were the only ones there. “I thought you might have declined my previous offer,” he said.
Emma, finally coming around to herself, dropped into a curtsy. “My Lord…?” she went to ask but stopped when he raised a hand at her.
The baron approached her, and his gaze made her uneasy as he looked her up and down. His reddened eyes and the strong odor of liquor told her that he had already had much to drink.
“Such a beautiful creature,” he whispered. “Tonight shall be a splendid evening.”
The man laughed. “A mistake? How so?”
“Forgive me, but I already have an engagement this evening. I had thought the carriage that came for me was…” She cut her words short with the flaring of the man’s nostrils.
“From another gentleman?” he asked.
Emma nodded, fear gripping her as tightly as if it were his hands around her throat.
Lord Miggs snorted. “I see.” He walked over to a small table and placed his glass upon it, his back to her. He said nothing for several moments, and Emma wondered what she had done wrong.
“My Lord, perhaps we can meet on another evening.” She did not want to offend this man, for he would not hesitate to throw her into the streets, rent paid or not. “We could…”
“There is no need to explain,” he said, his back still to her and his tone sharp enough it could have cut her in half. “You may leave.”
She stood in stunned silence. His words were what she wanted to hear, but she had not expected them to come so easily. However, her uneasiness had her curtsying again, although he could not see her do so. “Thank you, My Lord,” she said. “I promise that next time…”
“There will be no next time.” He turned around, and Emma could not help but take a step back from the fire that roared in his eyes. “You have embarrassed me, and although I should force you to walk home, I will remain a gentleman by keeping my promise to have my driver return you to your home.”
“Your promise?”
He came to stand before her. “Indeed,” he said and then let out a laugh. “I recall an agreement for dinner and then escorting me to a certain party. In return, your rent would remain the same and I would continue doing business with you…or rather your father.”
Emma stared at Lord Miggs as the realization of his words settled on her. “I do not mean to break the promise I made to you. I was not aware you had returned…”
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