by Lynn Messina
Settling her immediate future made Emma feel a little better, but it did nothing to rush the carriage to its destination. She could scarcely believe they were retracing their steps from yesterday. Had the journey really taken this long? She looked out the window and examined the passing landscape. It all looked vaguely familiar in that country-scenery sort of way, but the details she’d tried to commit to memory to aid in her escape eluded her completely.
Finally she saw the Hungry Lion. The instant the carriage came to a complete stop, Emma jumped down and ran to the front door. She found her sister inside the private parlor. Lavinia was sitting near to the fire, reading a book.
“Vinnie darling,” she called as she dashed into the room.
Her sister leaped to her feet in time to catch her sister in a hug. “You are safe,” she said, the relief apparent in her voice.
“Of course I’m safe,” said Emma, tightening her arms around Vinnie. It was so good to be with someone who loved her. She felt teardrops forming in the corners of her eyes and could not fight them.
“There is no ‘of course’ about it. You left here in the care of a madmen.” Vinnie pulled away and looked at Emma. “A madman whom I almost married. Can you ever forgive me?” she asked.
Emma wiped away a tear with a cold finger and stared at her sister uncomprehendingly. “Forgive you? Whatever for?”
“You are very gracious, my dear, but the atrocities that Sir Waldo visited upon my family are entirely my fault,” she explained, her bottom lip quivering. “You could have been killed—and Roger, too.” At Emma’s looked, she said bitterly, “Yes, I reasoned that out for myself. Our brother’s accident was anything but.” The tremendous fear she’d been living with for the last twenty-four hours overcame her, and she started to cry in earnest. “I don’t know what I’d have done if anything had happened to you.”
Emma pulled her sister into her arms again and chastised her for being so absurd. “Nothing did happen to me, silly. And Windbourne’s sins cannot be laid at your feet. He is a traitor to England and has tricked everyone, even the prime minister. As for Roger… Well, if that nincompoop had been killed, then he’d have no one to blame for it but himself. How dare he go around playing spy and not tell a soul? We are his family and should be the first to know if he’s undertaken a secret mission to save the empire.”
Vinnie laughed softly at this statement. Emma was always so bracing—and so ridiculous. Her view of the world might be skewed, but it was refreshing and just the sort of thing a worried sister sometimes needed. “You were not taken in,” she observed.
“But I’m unusually perceptive,” she said, making light of the whole situation until she noticed her sister’s sincere distress. “Really, Vinnie, I didn’t know he was a genuine villain. A puffed-up, pompous bore with more hair than wit, certainly, but never a scoundrel who would sell his country for a few farthings. Indeed, my dislike of him was entirely personal, and I will now admit that perhaps I was a teensy bit afraid of how your marriage would affect our friendship. I have only one sister, and I might have been fearful of losing her.”
Vinnie blew her nose into a white crisp white handkerchief and tried to compose herself. Emma had been through an ordeal and needed to receive comfort, not give it. “Tell me of your daring escape. Did Trent catch up to you? He left here with the devil—” She broke off when she felt her sister stiffen. “What’s the matter?”
Emma extricated herself from Vinnie’s arms and pasted on a wide smile that seemed to crack her face in half. “Nothing at all is the matter. Why do you ask? Trent is here. He arrived last night just in the nick of time, as they say. He was right behind me. Perhaps he is still stabling the horses. Where is Philip? The duke assured me he’s fine, but I want to check for myself.”
The immense change in Emma’s demeanor indicated to Vinnie that something else had gone wrong between Emma and the duke. Oh, pooh, what has happened now? She realized that the path of true love rarely ran smoothly, but these two seemed particularly blighted. She considered pressing the issue with Emma but decided to have a talk with Trent instead. He was the much more forthcoming one.
“Philip’s upstairs. He’s in the first room on the right. You will probably find Lucy, the landlord’s daughter, hovering by the door. She’s a silly chit, and Philip has been playing the wounded hero of the empire to the hilt.” Vinnie smiled. “This morning she was wrapping bandages and practicing her French. She’s all prepared for an invasion, and I think she’ll be disappointed when it doesn’t come.” She cocked her head. “I trust it is not coming?”
“We have much to talk about, dear, but no, for the moment England is safe from invasion.” She crossed to the door. “I’ll check in on Philip, and then I’ll tell you all about my adventure.”
Emma had scarcely left the room before the Duke of Trent entered. Although Vinnie knew it was not at all the thing for an unmarried woman to accost a duke, she hurled herself into his arms with a cry of thanks. “Oh, you dear, dear man. She is safe, just as you said she would be. Safe and unharmed, thanks to you. How can we ever repay you?”
The duke wrapped his arms around her for a moment only before releasing her and standing a good distance away. “There’s no need for repayment. She would not have been in such a predicament had I not interfered. We are even,” he said, abruptly turning to leave the room.
The duke looked tired and withdrawn, and Vinnie decided she could not wait to interfere. “Please sit down,” she said to his departing back, “and tell me what has transpired between you and Emma.”
Her words halted his movements, but they could not draw him to a seat by the fire. “I found her in a hovel outside Dover. She’d already escaped her restraints and knocked out Windbourne’s confederate by the time I arrived,” he explained matter-of-factly. “All that remained for me to do was to help her overcome Windbourne’s superior strength. We then brought him to Colonel Rivington, who has assured us he will take care of the matter.”
“Bah, I don’t care about any of that,” she dismissed with a cry. “I want to know what has the both of you acting so oddly.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said coldly.
“You are acting all stiff and ducal, as if you are about to give me a crushing setdown. And Emma is behaving erratically again, tensing up at the mere mention of your name. What has happened to make it so?”
“Forgive me if I act ducal, Miss Harlow, but I am a duke.”
“Miss Harlow?” she echoed. “Oh, it must be really, really terrible if I am Miss Harlow again. Do tell me what happened, so I can help make it better.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must talk to the landlord about a room.”
Vinnie watched him go, a feeling of helplessness overcoming her. The duke had always been candid and aboveboard with her from the very moment she’d confronted him about Emma’s scheme. If he would not tell her what happened, then it must worse than she imagined. Very well, there was nothing for it but to drag the truth out of Emma.
She found her answering Philip’s absurd questions.
“No, I don’t know if they’ll give us medals,” she confessed, “but most likely we’ll be called upon to provide testimony against him. At least I hope we’ll be called on to provide testimony. I, for one, am looking forward to it.”
“Do you think there will be a trial then?” asked Vinnie, entering the room. It hadn’t occurred to her that Sir Windbourne’s exploits would be published throughout the kingdom. For years she had tried to live a circumspect life and draw little attention to herself. She would not like looking the fool and having her name bandied about by members of the ton. There it was—another reason to despise Sir Waldo, as if there weren’t enough already.
“Of course there’ll be a trial,” insisted Philip from the bed. “There will be a great big trial that will cause a sensation. Nothing else will be talked about for months.”
Emma noticed her sister’s
discomfort. “He’s just a boy from Yorkshire and knows not of what he speaks. It will be a nine days’ wonder and a mere footnote in the annals of history. A traitorous spy among the upper ten thousand is nothing compared with what Lady Caroline Lamb might do in her pursuit of Lord Byron.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” Vinnie allowed, although she wasn’t at all convinced. “But come, you should not be offering me comfort. You have just returned from an awful experience. Let’s let Philip rest. I suppose it’s been days since you’ve had a decent meal,” she said, ushering her sister out into the hall. “And you must tell me where you got that horrid dress. As if the color weren’t bad enough, those sleeves are five years out of fashion.”
Emma followed Vinnie into her room and took a seat on the bed. The truth be told, she was very tired. Neither she nor the duke had gotten much sleep. Images of how she passed the night before flashed through her mind, making her feel embarrassed and wretched all at once. How long would these memories linger?
Vinnie watched her sister very carefully, noticing the blush that covered her cheeks and wondering at its cause. “I wish I had a change of clothes to offer you,” she said, “but I left the house with nothing but the clothes on my back, as you did.”
“Please don’t apologize,” Emma insisted. “I have suffered worse atrocities these last two days than an awful mint-green gown with unfashionable sleeves.”
“Have you?” Vinnie asked consideringly. “Perhaps you should tell me about them.”
“They are nothing, really. I won’t say that Sir Windbag was a perfect gentleman, for we both know that would be a lie, but he didn’t harm me in any way, aside from a few bruises and scratches.” Her neck was still very tender, but she chose not to linger on that, because doing so only reminded her of the soft kisses Trent had laid there.
“And Trent?”
Emma stiffened and fixed her eyes on the door. “He’s also unharmed.”
Observing Emma’s reaction, Vinnie positioned herself with deceptive casualness in front of the door. “I want to know what happened between you and Trent.”
Emma stood. “Now that I think upon it, I can’t like the way the doctor has bandaged Philip’s wound. It was wrapped too tightly and might cut off circulation to the boy’s foot. That would be unfortunate. I must check on it right away to put my mind at ease.
“Tell me first what happened between you and Trent.”
“There is nothing to tell. Now, please, step aside so that I may tend to Philip.”
“No,” Vinnie said, her voice unusually authoritative.
“No?”
“No, we are not leaving this room until you tell me the truth.” She leaned against the door and made herself comfortable. “Not five minutes before I was all but given the cut direct from Trent. You have done something to upset him. What is it?”
“Why must it be I who has upset him?” Emma asked angrily.
“All right, tell me what he has done to upset you,” Vinnie said agreeably.
“Nothing has occurred. Now do let me leave. Philip’s leg might be gangrenous and fall off at any moment. Can you live with that on your conscience?”
“Dear Emma, I have spent the last twenty-four hours with that boy and he has given no indication of discomfort. And since I was here when the doctor put the dressing on, I’m confident that it has been applied correctly.”
For the first time in her life, Emma felt like a trapped rabbit. She had never seen Vinnie stiff with resolve before. “You’re being completely ridiculous, Vinnie. I have nothing to say on the matter.” She sat down on the bed, her posture rigid. “I will remain here all afternoon if that’s your desire, but I won’t say a word about the Duke of Trent.” Her eyes swept the room. “My, what a lovely day it is. I daresay it will rain tomorrow.”
“No, we’ll not talk of the weather, you vexing child!” Vinnie said frustrated. “We will talk about Trent and Trent only.”
“There is nothing to talk about.”
“That man is in love with you, Emma, completely and totally in love with you.”
Emma turned her eyes away, fearful that Vinnie would see the tears that were starting to form again. Who could have guessed that just hearing those beautiful, impossible words could send spikes hurling through her heart? “Don’t interfere,” she said, when she felt in control again. “You know nothing about the situation, so don’t interfere.”
“You’re allowed to interfere in my life to your heart’s content but I can’t reciprocate?”
“I have never interfered in your life,” she said, the denial sounding hollow even to her own ears.
“Really, then what would you call your scheme to break up my engagement? Sending a libertine to seduce me was not interfering? Because it certainly felt like interference to me when Trent was plying me with unnecessary compliments.”
“The compliments were not unnecessary!” she denied hotly before the truth of the matter hit her. “You know about that?” Emma asked softly. The possibility of Vinnie’s discovering all was not something that had previously occurred to her.
“Yes. I’ve known about it for ages, and the only reason I played along was because I had a scheme of my own,” she replied.
“What sort of scheme?” Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“I hoped to bring you and Trent together by not only giving you a reason to meet with him but also by making you jealous. And it worked.”
“It did not.”
“Don’t try to cozen me, Emma. We are twins, and I know your thoughts as clearly as I know my own. You have been pining for the duke for weeks now.”
“I have not been pining.”
“You’ve been pining and without cause. The man is infatuated. He has told me so himself.” Vinnie walked over to the bed and took her sister’s hands in her own. She was reasonably confident that Emma wouldn’t try to run away now. The look on her face revealed that she was too shocked to do anything. “Now tell me what has happened to make you both so cross, and we’ll sort it out. It cannot be an insurmountable problem, for I’m convinced that the two of you were made for each other. I have never seen a pair so well suited.”
As much as it caused her pain, Emma loved hearing these words, and if she were of a weaker disposition, she’d have begged her sister to say more. “He asked me to marry him, and I turned him down,” she explained matter-of-factly. “Let’s please leave it at that.”
“You silly girl, why would you ever turn down a man like him?” Vinnie asked, running her hand over her sister’s disheveled hair. “You’ll never find a better match.”
“He doesn’t love me.”
“He does.”
“No, Vinnie, you’re just seeing what you want to see. Take off those rose-colored glasses and for once see the world for what it really is. The Duke of Trent desires me,” she said, hoping to shock her sister. “I know for a fact that he desires me greatly. But desire is not love and I will not shackle myself to a man who doesn’t love me. I will not put a brave face on it and stand by as my husband frequents opera dancers and Drury Lane actresses. You know me, Vinnie. I’m careless and sometimes foolish and I often do things without thinking them through first but not this. I am not such a fool that I would rush headlong into marriage with a man like Trent. And I won’t let him do it either, not out of some misplaced sense of obligation. We would both be miserable.”
Vinnie listened to this heartbreaking little speech and marveled at how her sister could have so thoroughly misread the situation. “But he does love you, Em. I know he does.”
Emma closed her eyes to pray for strength, but all that did was bring the image of Trent, always near, to the fore of her mind. She could see him as he was the night before in the candlelight, gentle and tender, brushing the hair out of her eyes as he joined his body with hers. If a man loved you, surely that was the time to mention it. Then or afterward when he held you in his arms or even later, when he kissed brandy off your lips. “You are wrong. Now please
let me get some rest. I’m suddenly exhausted.”
Although it went against her instincts, Vinnie decided to leave her alone. Closing the door quietly behind her, she admitted that the situation was very serious indeed. She’d never seen Emma so distressed before, nor her face so pale. She must really be exhausted, thought Vinnie. It’s not just an excuse to get rid of me.
Vinnie decided it was time to straighten this mess out once and for all. She couldn’t imagine what the duke was about, asking Emma to marry him without uttering any words of love. He was supposed to be an accomplished flirt, and yet when it came to this most basic rule of courtship he was but a green lad.
She found him sitting next to Philip’s bed. She inquired after Philip’s health and then focused her gaze on the duke. “Your grace, may we have a private moment in the parlor?”
Although good manners bade that the duke stand upon her arrival, they could not get him to agree to her suggestion. “Now is not the right time. Perhaps later?”
Vinnie knew later would never come. He would put her off all night and in the morning he would be gone before any of them awoke. “We have something very important to discuss and it cannot wait. I must insist that you come now.”
He resisted her command. “I couldn’t possibly devote myself to an important discussion until I assured myself of my cousin’s well-being.”
“What, me?” asked Philip, surprised by the duke’s words. “I already told you I’m—”
“You are looking a bit flushed,” said the duke, laying a hand on his cousin’s forehead. Although he had no experience in the sick room, laying a hand on someone’s forehead seemed like just the way to treat an invalid. “You might be running a fever. I will stay here with you just to make sure.”
Vinnie arched an eyebrow at this little pantomime but refused to be deterred from her goal. She felt Philip’s forehead for herself. “He’s as cool as a cucumber. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Since he was warm but a few seconds ago, I’d say there is much to worry about. A rapidly fluctuating body temperature could be a sign of infection. Perhaps you should fetch the doctor.”