Lucian shrugged his brother off. “When the devil are you going to grow up?”
Hostility flared in Nathaniel’s eyes, and stark relief filled Lucian. Lately, with all the messes Nathaniel had created, Lucian had been wondering if his brother cared about anything. But if he was angry, he must care.
“Why do I need to grow up?” Nathaniel demanded. “You’re mature enough for both of us.”
“Nathaniel—”
“For God’s sake,” he snapped. “You’d think after years of me telling you to call me Nathan you’d damn well do it.”
Lucian clenched his jaw. He couldn’t call his brother Nathan, and he could never explain why. To embrace that casualness again meant he thought he could be anything other than the duke who sorted out the complications his family created, and he knew well he could not. He could never be carefree again as he’d been before Father died. He wasn’t Luc anymore, as his brother had finally quit calling him, and Nathaniel could never be Nathan again. Their mother had seen to that when her actions had inadvertently led to their father’s death. He forced himself to loosen his jaw. Dukes got angry, but they never showed it.
He’d agreed to come here today only because he’d hoped that talking to Nathaniel in a more relaxed setting, would keep him from becoming angry and then maybe he’d listen. Lucian refocused on the matter at hand. He softened his voice, trying to sound casual rather than critical. “What are you going to do now that you’ve been kicked out of Oxford?”
“I’ve not given it much thought,” Nathaniel snapped as he turned and gazed out at the ice. Lucian stared in the direction his brother was looking and tried to determine what had caught his eye. It only took a moment to discern what—or rather who—had Nathaniel’s rapt attention. In the distance, Lady Emmaline spun in fast circles, her arms splayed wide, her face turned up to the gleaming sun, and her long black hair—a stark contrast to the snowy cape she wore—billowed around her.
“You’d do well to leave the enchanting snow fairy alone,” Lucian said.
Nathaniel snorted as he took a step toward the ice. “How surprisingly poetic of you, Lucian,” Nathaniel said as he took another step.
Lucian clutched his arm. “Didn’t getting booted from Oxford for dallying with the chancellor’s daughter teach you anything about the complications that enticing innocent debutants can create?”
“The man is a stuffy prig,” Nathaniel retorted without so much as a glance back.
Lucian ground his teeth. The promise he’d made his father to help Nathaniel become a good, honorable man seemed almost impossible to keep at times. “I hardly think being angry at finding his daughter in your arms in his library makes him a stuffy prig.”
Nathaniel finally faced Lucian with the lazy, devil-may-care smile he so often wore. “As I explained, I merely caught her when she fell from the book ladder.”
Lucian cocked his eyebrows. “That was quite some fall to have made her hair come unpinned and her lips swollen.”
Nathaniel raised his hand as if studying his nails in boredom. “Her lips are naturally big. Her poor father refuses to admit she has a flaw, and the ladder was high.”
“Hmm…I was told it was three steps.”
Nathaniel smirked. “Three steps is quite the height for uncoordinated people.”
This was getting them nowhere, and Lucian needed to return home. He had ledgers to go over. “Let’s dispense with this farce, shall we? In the last two years, you’ve managed to get yourself kicked out of Oxford and Cambridge, and all over dallying with women with whom you have no damn right to dally. These girls have reputations, Nathaniel. You risked their futures.” And Lucian could not seem to stop his brother from doing things to purposely bring trouble to himself. It was maddening.
Nathaniel gave him a look of mock horror. “You mean I risked their chances of marrying stuffy, boring dukes such as yourself?”
Lucian ignored the barb and focused on the very real problem that his brother didn’t seem to see what had really been at stake for those young ladies. “I mean that if any of them were compromised by you, the only choice would’ve been for her to marry you or to likely spend her life as a spinster.”
“I’d marry anyone I compromised,” Nathaniel said with an infuriating shrug.
Lucian inhaled a long steady breath, searching for a sliver of calmness in the sea of turbulence his brother always created. “I’d think you’d have more of a care for whom you’d choose as your wife. Marriage is for life.”
Lucian grinned. “If I don’t like who I end up marrying, I’m sure you’ll see to her welfare while I see to my enjoyment.”
His brother’s words pierced the heart of what was bothering Lucian. Was Nathaniel really so self-interested? If so, Lucian had failed miserably in helping him become the honorable man as he’d promised to do. “Nathaniel—” Lucian started, then clamped his jaw shut as his brother skated off. Lucian watched him go without trying to stop him. If he caught Nathaniel now, he’d likely give him a much-needed facer to knock some sense into him. Lucian stared out at his brother and followed his progress across the ice and toward Lady Emmaline. Nathaniel stopped in front of her. After a minute, her dizzying circles halted.
She tilted her head back to look up at his brother. Then she nodded, and Lucian groaned. He knew enough of Lady Emmaline and her races in Hyde Park over the last several years to know the young girl who’d fallen from his great-uncle’s tree was still very impetuous…and apparently still just as easily dazzled by Nathaniel as she’d been for so many years. Should he go put a stop to whatever trouble the two would likely find together?
As soon as the idea hit him, an undeniable realization struck: Nathaniel’s biggest problem was Lucian.
Hell and double hell. He had been so busy trying to save Nathaniel from himself that Lucian had failed to let him grow up. His brother had never been accountable for any of his mistakes because Lucian always fixed them for him. Well, no more.
Lucian turned his back on his brother and Lady Emmaline, and marched with determined steps to the mead tent. Whatever folly Nathaniel led her into on the ice, he would have to correct it on his own. As Lucian ordered a mug of mead, he comforted himself with the knowledge that there was surely not much trouble his brother could find while skating. What was the worst that could happen? Nathaniel might steal a kiss, but Lucian didn’t think his brother was quite that foolish. Every fiber of Lucian’s person entreated him to turn around and ensure all was well, but he forced himself not to move and to slowly drink his mead and to contemplate how he might help his brother out of this, and then dismissed those thoughts as he remembered that Nathaniel needed to get himself out of his mess.
Several acquaintances passed through the tent and offered greetings. Lucian responded automatically, barely hearing what they said, his mind so preoccupied with what Nathaniel might be doing. But when his distant cousin, Nicholas Beckford, Lord Edgeworth stepped into the tent, Lucian genuinely smiled.
“Nick,” he exclaimed. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you were still traveling with your wife.”
His cousin grinned, looking relaxed and happy. Jealousy twisted through Lucian. Would he ever look like that?
“We just returned,” Nick replied. “Lillian is skating.” He turned toward the ice and pointed. “She’s just there in the red cape.”
Lucian looked out at the ice. Nick’s wife was easy to spot in her red cape with her black hair tumbling over her shoulders. “She’s lovely as always,” Lucian said politely, even as his attention was drawn to his brother, who was now skating side by side with Lady Emmaline. Suddenly, Nathaniel took her hand, and Lucian muttered to himself.
“What’s the matter?” Nick asked.
“My brother’s the matter.” Lucian pointed to Nathaniel and Lady Emmaline. “He’s stirring trouble again. Talking foolish, innocent ladies into forgetting themselves.”
“Are you going to run off to rescue him per your usual form, or do you care to walk wi
th me and say hello to Lillian?”
“I’m taking a sabbatical from saving my brother,” Lucian declared. “I came to the realization that he needs to suffer some consequences in order to grow up.”
Nick arched his eyebrows. “When did you come to this understanding?”
“About a minute ago,” Lucian said, forcing a laugh, even though new knots formed in his shoulders as he thought of what exactly it might mean to let Nathaniel pay for his mistakes. Had Lucian failed, then, to live up to his promise to his father and the promise Lucian had made himself to be the father of whom Nathaniel had been robbed?
Emma’s heart fluttered as Nathaniel tightly held her hand in his. He looked the other way to guide them in another turn, and her breath caught as she pulled back.
He glanced at her as they glided. “Whatever is the matter?”
She bit her lip. She hated to sound like a ninny, but the ice to their right looked dangerous. “Doesn’t the ice look thin to you, Lord Nathaniel?”
He squeezed her hand. “Call me Nathan.”
Her pulse ticked up several beats. He was perfect. So casual. So friendly. So indifferent to the rules, just as she was. “Nathan, I think we should avoid that ice.” She inclined her head toward the area of which she spoke.
He chuckled. “I’ll keep you safe. I vow it.”
The way he said it with such surety almost made her concern slide away. Still…she couldn’t help but glance down and tense as they skated near the edge of the patch of ice that was worrying her.
“You’ve become a stunningly beautiful woman in this last year, Emmaline.”
It might be cold outside, but his words made her feel hot on the inside. She’d never been called beautiful or a woman. “Do you say that to all the ladies?” she teased, pleased she had found witty banter even as her mind felt scrambled.
“Only to you, my enchanting snow fairy.”
“You think me enchanting?” she managed to say without gushing.
He offered her a dazzling smile. “Especially when you’re spinning and your hair fans around you. Shall I spin you?”
She nodded, feeling as if her every wish were about to come true.
He swung her out to the right, directly over the thinner ice. Her fear spiked, but as they glided over it and nothing happened, she let the fear go, and when he spun her around again, she simply closed her eyes, determined to enjoy the moment.
Lucian followed Nick out of the tent through the crowd. They walked onto the slick ice, heading toward Lillian.
“So this new attitude of yours regarding your brother has yet to be tested,” Nick teased.
Lucian laughed. “I hear the disbelief in your voice, but I’m determined to stay this course. Unless Nathaniel is in danger of killing someone, I’m going to let him be accountable for his next mistake. I just pray it’s not a rather large one and that the lesson will sink into his thick skull.”
“Well,” Nick started, but whatever else he said was drowned out by a sudden piercing scream.
Lucian whipped his head in the direction of the dire sound, and his mouth fell open. Over where Nathaniel had been skating, his brother stood stock-still, looking down at the ice where hands appeared just above the surface, then a head. Another loud scream rent through the air, and then the hands and head disappeared. For one brief moment, things seemed to move in slow motion as another scream resounded. This one was to Lucian’s left, and he turned his head to see a woman in a purple cape running, then sliding, across the ice. She went down in a heap, yet her screams didn’t stop.
“Jesus,” Nick murmured, snapping Lucian out of his daze and into action.
With Nick on his heels, Lucian tore off across the ice toward Nathaniel and the drowning Lady Emmaline, who’d been twirling in carefree circles not so long ago. It seemed like forever, yet it was mere seconds before he reached Nathaniel. One glance at his brother’s bulging eyes and white face told Lucian that Nathaniel was frozen in fear. Lucian shoved him out of the way, as much to get to Lady Emmaline as to ensure his brother’s safety. He dropped to his knees and plunged his hands into the icy water of the Serpentine.
Fear hammered through him as he reached desperately for her. His fingers touched nothing but water. Cold, deadly water. Then Nick was beside him, along with a score of nameless, faceless people, except for the lady’s sister. Tears streaked Lady Mary’s face, and fear filled her eyes.
“My sister!” she cried out through her sobs. “My sister, my sister!” And then her face went as white as snow as she fainted. Nick lunged for her and caught her just before she hit the ice.
Lucian’s heart clenched as he kicked off his boots among the shouting and confusion. He stood as Nick shoved his hands in the water, and as he was yanking off his overcoat, Nathaniel seemed to break free of his daze.
He blinked at Lucian. “What are you doing?” His voice throbbed with concern.
It was about damn time.
There wasn’t a second to answer, and all the words Lucian wanted to say to Nathaniel would only serve to lengthen the distance between them. Without another thought, Lucian jumped into the water. His lungs seized in his chest for one moment as the freezing temperature enveloped him. His mind and body immediately rebelled against the shock of icy cold, but he forced himself to focus and his hands to search, as seeing was nearly impossible. He immediately grazed something distinctly soft and human. Fingers, small and delicate and near to frozen as far as he could tell, gripped him in a death clutch. Good, she was not unconscious.
His lungs burned and his heart pounded vicious, needy beats that thumped in his ears. The ice under the surface burned and hurt, and he was positive he’d die if he stayed under too long, yet he could not surface without Lady Emmaline. He somehow tugged her to him, slid his arm around her waist, and together they moved toward the slice of light he could see above them. Then he hoisted her up as high as he could, and suddenly, she was gone.
He broke the surface immediately after, and Nick’s face, pinched with worry, was the first one Lucian saw. He gripped his arm and tugged him out of the freezing water and onto the ice, where they both landed on their backs. Chaos reigned above Lucian. People seemed to be scrambling this way and that, and then a red cloak was thrown over him and Nick’s wife kneeled beside the two of them.
Lillian gave him a concerned look and then focused her attention on her husband. “Whatever happened, darling?”
Nick frowned as Lucian sat up and glanced around for his brother. He spotted Nathaniel walking away and carrying Lady Emmaline, whose white cape was thrown over his shoulder like a sodden mess. Lady Mary Radcliffe walked with the help of another gentleman, and even from here, Lucian could hear the lady’s voice raised in sharp reprimand.
Disgusted with Nathaniel, Lucian turned and met Lillian’s gaze. “My brother happened.” He had attempted to answer politely but was certain by the way her eyes widened, that he must have growled it.
Lucian stood and Nick followed, as did Lillian. Questions from onlookers came from every direction. For one brief moment, Lucian pondered his new resolve to let Nathaniel sort out his own messes, but then he thought of Lady Emmaline and how this could ruin her. He could not allow such a fate to befall her. “Thank goodness,” he said in a voice loud enough to be heard over the hum of excited conversation, “Nathaniel skated by when he did and called out for help. Poor Lady Emmaline is subject to terrible megrims, and she fell onto thin ice when one struck her. If it had not been for my brother, the lady could have drowned.” The whispers continued, and he rushed on. “He saw earlier that she was unsteady skating and helped her then, and has been determined to keep a watchful eye on her since.” Lucian met the gaze of each person who appeared as if they might question his explanation.
A few bold people gave him disbelieving looks, but no one challenged his proclamation. He turned away from the prying eyes and in the direction his brother had gone. Lucian started toward the tent where Nathaniel sat, but as he walked, he swore that his
brother would feel the sting of his actions and learn from it. One way or another, Nathaniel had to grow up, but Lucian simply didn’t have the heart to ruin Lady Emmaline’s life to make his brother’s maturation happen today.
Two
Two days later
Emma crouched at the top of the stairs out of sight from her mother and Lady Peabody, a gossipmonger who loved to stir trouble. As Lady Peabody arrived, all Emma could think was how lucky it was that she’d not yet gone down stairs. Lady Peabody pretended to be sweet as honey and often referred to herself as a good Christian woman, but in Emma’s book, good Christian women did not spend all their time spreading gossip.
She eyed the plump, purple-clad woman, certain Lady Peabody was here to gleefully relay whatever rumors were spreading about Emma’s near-drowning, and she simply had to know what was being said about her. She didn’t much care what the ton thought, but Mother did, and Emma needed to know just how bad things might be. That would tell her how upset Mother would be.
As the butler took Lady Peabody’s pelisse, Emma heard the squeak of the door to the bedchamber behind her as it was opened, and Mary suddenly appeared. Emma pressed her finger to her lips and frantically waved to Mary to get down. Mary immediately complied and walked, low to the ground, toward Emma. Three days ago, if Emma had motioned to Mary to keep hidden, her sister would have scoffed, but ever since Emma had fallen through the ice, it was as if Mary had realized she truly loved her. Mary had been treating her with such kindness, and she’d not said one harsh word to her since the first few minutes after the accident. And even then, Mary had only berated her for a minute before she’d promptly burst into tears and given Emma a very long hug.
As Mary came to crouch right beside Emma and took her hand, Emma smiled. She wholeheartedly embraced this change in her sister. An ally was always welcome.
Lady Peabody, Emma mouthed.
Mary rolled her eyes in response, and they both turned their focus to their mother and her guest.
It's In The Duke's Kiss: A Danby Regency Novella Page 2