She scowled at him. Had he lowered his voice to avoid gossip? Most likely. It was sensible and infuriating at once.
“You,” she said, in a barely controlled tone, “may be a duke, but you don’t get to order me about. You don’t win this time, Your Grace. You lose.”
His gaze became dark and stormy and made her shiver. “Are you trying to tell me that you’ll allow my brother to court you?”
“Certainly not,” she said, repelled by the prospect of kissing Nathan when Lucian had stolen her heart. “But I will be allowing other gentlemen to court me. You may not have truly cared for me, but I’m positive others will,” she finished, seething.
“Emma, I do care for you very much. I—”
“Oh yes, I could tell by your dancing with Lady Francine twice.”
“You must let me explain.”
Emma was beyond angry. “I am not required to let you do anything. We aren’t betrothed. You’re not my husband. And beyond those facts, how am I to ever believe a thing you say when you started this…whatever this is between us with a lie!” He hadn’t even mentioned a word of a future together, and if there had ever been a time to do so now would have been the time.
His gaze darted to the few couples on the terrace that were now openly staring at them, and it was simply more than she could take that even now he clung desperately to propriety. She wanted a man who flung caution to the wind to capture her love, not a man who’d let propriety dictate his every move.
“Don’t follow me,” she ordered. Then she turned on her heel and fled the way she’d come.
It didn’t take long to find her mother, plead a megrim, and gather her father and Mary to depart. By the time Emma climbed into the carriage, her temples pounded viciously, and as the carriage started down the road, Emma turned her head out the window and prayed no one would ask about Lucian.
“Emmaline, did you speak with His Grace before you left?” Mother asked.
Was that concern she heard in her mother’s voice? Surely not.
Emma kept her face turned to the window. “Yes, Mother. It’s as you thought. I’m a foolish, silly woman, and I’ll do your bidding from here on out.”
“Emma!” her mother exclaimed. “I never said you were foolish and silly.”
Emma squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks. “You did. A thousand times with a thousand actions and a thousand more words. Maybe not those exact ones, I give you that, but ones that meant the same thing.”
Silence fell in the carriage and as it rattled down the street, Emma’s heart ached more with every bump they hit.
Twelve
Lucian stood on the terrace for the space of three measured breaths after Emma fled, hoping if he didn’t immediately race after her the couples who were gawking at him wouldn’t hurry into the ballroom and spread gossip. But on the fourth breath, he couldn’t make himself wait any longer. He had to make her understand he’d not courted her simply to thwart Nathaniel.
Damn his brother. Lucian knew Nathaniel was angry with him, but he’d underestimated just how upset his brother was. He searched the ballroom for Emma, and when he could not locate her, he began looking for her sister and parents. He was on the verge of checking outside in the torch-lit gardens when he spotted his mother and the Duke of Danby standing by the refreshment table. Lady Peabody faced them and she was rapidly waving her hands in the air.
Unease filled him. Surely gossip had not already spread in such a short time? But as his mother’s jaw dropped open and a look of horror crossed her face, Lucian knew it had. He strode quickly through the crowd to do what he could to dispel the rumors.
“Mother. Uncle. Lady Peabody,” he said easily, offering what he hoped was a nonchalant smile. “What are the three of you discussing?”
Lady Peabody flushed, and a distinctly guilty look crossed her face. “Oh, this and that,” she tittered. “I need to find my daughters, if you’ll excuse me?” She didn’t wait for him to do so. She rushed off as if her skirts were on fire.
His mother stared at him for a long moment before grasping him by the arm. “Come with me, please,” she requested.
He nodded and followed her and his great-uncle to an empty corner by the terrace. After looking around as if to ensure no one would overhear her, his mother faced him. “Blackbourne, I just heard the most astonishing gossip,” his mother said in a hushed tone that sounded oddly pleased.
He frowned. “What did you hear, Mother?”
“Allow me,” Danby said to his mother, who inclined her head. “Lady Peabody’s daughter heard from Lady Whitby’s daughter who heard from Lord—” Danby paused and looked to Lucian’s mother.
“Grayson,” his mother supplied.
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome,” she replied in a cheery tone.
“That his sister was on the balcony with her friend not long ago and Lady Emmaline made the most atrocious scene. Lady Grayson’s sister said Lady Emmaline disgraced herself and that you were the epitome of all that is ducally dandy.”
His mother laughed. “No, Danby, you’ve mixed it up. Blackbourne is the epitome of all that is ducally proper.”
Lucian groaned. This gossip was the exact sort of chaos he’d intended to avoid with the choice of a proper wife. He ground his teeth.
“Oh dear,” his mother murmured. “Is it true?”
“We had a row,” he offered, “and Lady Emmaline refused to keep her voice down.”
His mother cocked an eyebrow and gave him a dark look. “Yes, how silly of her to become passionate over…?”
Lucian moved his shoulders in a shrug of anger. “It seems Nathaniel told her I was only courting her to thwart him. She wishes for me to leave her alone.”
“You’re not going to, are you, darling?” His mother sounded concerned.
“I don’t know.” He could feel a tick start in his jaw.
His mother glanced at his great-uncle. “Would you give us a moment?”
“Certainly,” Danby replied and quickly walked away.
“Darling, I need to tell you something.”
“Please tell me I’m going to like it. I’m in a rather foul mood.”
His mother patted him on the arm. “I’m afraid you won’t. Let us go to the terrace and see if we can find privacy.”
Needing privacy didn’t bode well, Lucian nodded and they strolled onto the terrace, which was now empty.
Mother turned to him and took a deep breath. “As much as you want to blame me, I did not cause your father’s death. His pride did.”
Lucian stilled and stared at his mother. “What do you mean?”
“Your grandfather, unfortunately, made your father think that dukes had to be perfect, infallible, and to hold themselves to an unreachable standard. And though I helped your father see that in some ways it wasn’t true or even possible, he couldn’t help himself but to instill the same beliefs in you.”
Lucian was about to interrupt, but she shook her head. “Please let me finish.” She went on to tell him about the foolish wager his father had made and how it had led to his death.
Lucian’s jaw dropped open. “Why did you never tell me?”
Tears filled his mother’s eyes. “You worshipped him. You always had. I didn’t want to diminish the perfect memory of your father that you seemed to cling to, but it’s hurt you, and it’s hurt Nathaniel. You’ve spent your life trying to imitate a man who knew the standard was impossible, and Nathaniel has spent his life trying to be the opposite of what your father wanted him to be because he never felt loved by him the way you did.”
“Did Nathaniel tell you that?” Lucian asked in astonishment.
“No, but I know it just the same. Lucian, your father and I were opposites, but we were good for each other, just as Lady Emmaline is good for you. You need someone who will force you to laugh and not take yourself so seriously. I have never seen you as happy as you have been these last few weeks with her.”
He opened his mouth to refute his mother, but he slowly closed it as all the moments he’d spent with Emma played in his memory. She made him want to do all the things his father had told him dukes didn’t do. One of those things was to seek out Nathaniel and apologize for being so harsh and for not understanding his pain.
“She may very well not have me now,” he said quietly.
“She may not,” his mother agreed with a long sigh. “You’ll need a grand gesture, I think. Something to show her that you’re willing to change for her.”
“Yes.” His mind turned as he glanced into the ballroom and saw Lady Peabody talking animatedly with one of her friends. “But in case she won’t have me even after that, I need to save her reputation.”
His mother looked toward the ballroom as well. “Oh dear. Lady Peabody.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “The woman is a menace. Mother, gather Danby and have him help you spread some gossip.”
She looked positively perplexed. “About what? More megrims for Lady Emmaline? I hardly think that will work twice.”
“No, this time the gossip will be about me.” He grinned.
“You?”
“Yes. Make sure to tell everyone you encounter that I offered for Lady Emmaline and that she turned me down.”
“Oh, Lucian!” His mother gave him a hug. “I’ve never been prouder of you than I am at this moment. What is the rest of your plan?”
“I’m going to go to see Emma tomorrow and ask her forgiveness for my starting our courtship with a lie and see if she could ever trust me enough to consider marrying me.”
His mother sniffed and patted her eyes. “You called her Emma. It’s so unlike you and so very wonderful!”
“This is the new me, Mother. The casual duke.”
“Emmaline Radcliffe,” her mother snapped as Emma stood in her father’s study and watched Lucian’s carriage go back down the drive the way it had come but moments before. “That is the second day His Grace has come to speak with you and you’ve turned him away. You simply must speak to him.”
“Why?” Emma demanded, angry and sad. She turned to face her mother. “Because he’s a duke and you want a duke as a son-in-law even if it’s me who is married to him?” She hated how peevish she sounded, but her heart hurt.
Mother surprised her by taking her hand. “No, because I’ve been jealous and cruel, and your father’s made me see it. And I also see that you care for Blackbourne, and he must care for you, too, to have come two days in a row to see you.”
Emma’s pulse ticked upward with the possibility, but she shoved the ludicrous hope away. “He never cared for me. I refuse to be foolish any longer. He only wished to thwart his brother. I want to forget him, please.”
“You’re certain?” her mother asked, sounding concerned.
Emma’s heart tugged at the genuine concern she heard in her mother’s voice. “Yes,” she whispered, her throat aching with the tears she was holding back.
“All right, Emma. If you truly wish to forget him, then I’ll speak no more about him. We were invited to the Edgeworth’s ball, but I can easily decline. It may be best anyway. I fear there may be gossip from your confrontation with Blackbourne at the last ball. Perhaps we should stay home for a bit. New gossip is bound to take the place of whatever anyone might be saying.”
“No,” Emma answered quickly. This would be the perfect opportunity to show Lucian and the ton that he had not crushed her, even though he had. She would dance all night and flaunt it in front of him and anyone else who may be gossiping about her. She would feign happiness and merriment. Yes. It was the perfect plan.
Pretending to be happy was exhausting, and Emma had only been at the Edgeworth’s ball long enough to greet the host and be shown into the ballroom. She noted right away all the stares she received as she strolled through the crowd with her sister. Her stomach clenched. Perhaps the gossip was worse than she’d expected.
She placed a hand on Mary’s arm. “I think I’ll go freshen up.”
Mary gave her a look of understanding. “Shall I go with you?”
Emma shook her head and made her way quickly to the retiring room. She entered to find Lady Caroline fixing a curl that had escaped her coiffure. Lady Peabody’s daughter was as much of a gossipmonger as her mother. She immediately swiveled around to face Emma.
“Lady Emmaline, you are my hero!” she exclaimed.
Emma wrinkled her brow. “I beg your pardon?”
Lady Caroline smirked. “Don’t pretend with me. My sister said that Mother told her that Lady Sullyard told Mother that Lord Tannersy said that the Duke of Blackbourne offered for you on the terrace of the Stockholms’ ball and that you turned him down and told him he held himself in far too high esteem to have room for a wife.”
Emma’s jaw dropped open in shock. That’s what people were saying? How completely wrong they’d gotten it. She cringed, thinking about how furious Lucian would be. “It didn’t happen exactly that way,” she managed to say, though her throat felt awfully tight like it was closing up.
“Don’t be so modest, Lady Emmaline. I never really liked him. I’d marry him if he asked, of course. He is a duke, after all. But he always acted as if he was too above me to even consider me.”
Emma bit her lip on a giggle. She suspected it was Lady Caroline’s love for dramatics and not her pedigree that had caused Lucian to keep his distance.
Lady Caroline excused herself, and Emma lingered in the retiring room as long as she thought she could. No one would likely ask her to dance now. She didn’t truly care, except that she had wanted Lucian to see how little she cared. How silly she was. She made her way to the ballroom and immediately found a nice large potted plant to hide behind. She refused to be forced to be a wallflower; this way, she was actively choosing the fate.
One dance passed and then another, and suddenly someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and was astonished to see Lucian’s mother standing there. “You appear to be hiding,” the duchess said.
Emma squared her shoulders. “Certainly not. I was looking for my dance card. I dropped it.”
The duchess’s gaze slid to Emma’s wrist where her empty card hung.
“Er, I just found it.”
“How wonderful!” the duchess exclaimed. “I just saw your mother and she was searching for you because Lord Salisbury wishes to dance with you.”
Emma barely contained her groan.
Lucian’s mother smiled knowingly. “I told your mother I’d help find you so you wouldn’t miss your opportunity. One never knows what fate might have in store with a simple dance.”
Emma snorted. “Fate is for fools.”
“I’m surprised you’d say that given that I believe fate had a hand in saving you from death on the Serpentine.”
Emma frowned. “How do you conclude that?”
“It’s simple. If Edgeworth had not brought his wife to skate, then Blackbourne probably would have simply left after getting his mug of mead. But he stopped and talked to Edgeworth, and his cousin asked him to go say hello to his wife. That’s when Blackbourne heard you scream, saw Nathaniel standing there frozen in shock, and ran across the ice to save you.”
Emma’s heart raced at the duchess’s words and her recollection of Lillian also saying Lucian had saved her. Her world seemed to be spinning. She reached for the wall and the duchess grabbed her hand and squeezed it. Their gazes locked. Lucian’s mother had to be wrong about the facts. “But—”
The duchess drew up her eyebrows. “No,” she said in a firm voice.
Emma drew in a sharp breath. “But you don’t even know what I’m—”
“Going to ask,” the duchess finished. “I’m very wise, though not very old.” She gave Emma a stern look. “Never let it be said otherwise.”
A nervous giggle escaped Emma. “But Lucian said—”
The duchess let out a long sigh. “I know what my foolish son let you believe.”
“Which son?” Emma said, feeling
rather daring. Perhaps it was her shock or fear that she may have ruined her own perfect fate.
Lucian’s mother laughed a rich, deep laugh. “Touché, my dear. Both of them. I know Nathaniel led you to believe he rescued you, and Lucian allowed the lie to remain.”
Emma gulped, rather loudly she feared. “I suppose Lucian didn’t want to discredit his brother.”
The duchess gave her a sympathetic look. “I suppose you’re absolutely correct. But he also thought to protect you.”
Emma fanned her burning hot face with her open palm. She’d allow herself to faint if it wasn’t so awfully silly. “From what?”
“Why, from yourself, my dear. I imagine he realized you had an affection for Nathaniel, and Lucian would never be one to destroy a dream.”
“Oh, dear!” Emma murmured, struggling not to wail it.
“Lucian saved you another way, as well,” the duchess continued in a gentle voice.
“How?” Emma could do no more than whisper the question.
His mother gave her a tender smile. “When rumors began to spread about the incident, Lucian was the one who quashed them.”
Emma could hardly take a proper breath she was so shocked. “He did that for me?”
“Yes. And he’s done it again, Lady Emmaline. Have you heard the tale swirling about my son?”
Emma nodded, even as she scanned the crowd searching for him. She desperately wanted to find him, thank him, and beg him to forgive her for being so stubborn. “Where is he?”
The duchess pointed to the dance floor where Lucian stood. When their eyes met, he smiled, and Emma grinned as tears of happiness sprang to her eyes. “Will you excuse me?”
The duchess nodded. “Of course.”
Emma walked slowly across the ballroom and stopped in front of Lucian. She tilted her head up and met his warm, gray gaze as the notes of a waltz started. Before she knew what was happening, he had taken her in his arms and started twirling her around the dance floor.
“Lucian,” she said with a laugh. “People will talk.”
“I hope so,” he replied. “I hope they say Blackbourne loved Lady Emmaline so desperately and so deeply that he made a complete and utter fool of himself dancing with a lady who had rebuked his offer of marriage.”
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