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A Lady’s Choice: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Book

Page 11

by Fimch, Fanny


  Even though she considered Emma to be her rival, her heart was soft for the woman’s distress. That brought her up in his eyes, though not high enough to consider her for a potential wife. He knew who he wanted to marry. It was not Lady Christian years ago and it was not Lady Christian now. It would never be her.

  He listened to the Duke of Rabney speaking quietly to Lady Christian. He was telling her what they would do as soon as they got to Corning Mansion. He was instructing her that the Duke of Lox would escort Camilla and Emma into the house while he and Lady Christian would wait in the parlor, where they would surely be offered pastries and tea.

  Lady Christian said nothing, which surprised the Duke of Lox. He would have expected the brash woman to have quite a bit to say, under any circumstances. It was the first time he had ever seen her speechless. She looked taken aback by the situation, as if she had never faced a dilemma of great magnitude before.

  The Duke of Lox remembered how he had felt when his father had died, leaving him the dukedom to care for. He had felt a great deal of responsibility from the moment he received the title. He had not been particularly close to his father but did not say the same for his mother, who had always been an advocate and friend. Thinking about her whilst Emma was weeping for her father made him miss his mother more than anything.

  He looked at the Duke of Rabney, who looked back at him. “I must go see my mother,” he murmured. His heart ached for Emma. Even in her pain and grief, she was still beautiful. Her red eyes, rapidly swelling, made his chest tight with sorrow.

  The Duke of Rabney, who did not have either of his parents still alive, nodded at him. “I understand, Baldwin. We will plan a trip soon.”

  The Duke of Lox wanted to tell his friend he was not obligated to come but it was appreciated. But right then, he did not feel it appropriate to make it about himself. He nodded and fell silent. Corning Mansion was close and when they arrived, he feared what Emma’s reaction would be.

  The group in the carriage were quiet as the carriage rocked back and forth, racing down the rocky road with haste.

  He looked through the window at the darkening sky. It was darker than it would have been if the sky was not blanketed with heavy clouds of grey. Typically, he enjoyed rainstorms. He found them comforting. But all he could think was that the rain reminded him of Emma’s tears. God was crying for the Duke of Corning.

  The carriage pulled up in front of the mansion and he was the first one to stand, opening the door and jumping down before the driver had a chance to. The carriage had barely come to a stop when his feet hit the ground.

  He lifted his hand to Emma and she took it without hesitation, climbing out of the carriage rapidly. The rest of the group followed, with the Duke of Rabney getting out last. He saw the Duke of Rabney take Lady Christian’s elbow and direct her up the stairs. He was grateful. He did not want the woman’s attention. He wanted to concentrate on doing what he could to help Emma.

  He followed the women as they raced up the steps to the front door and burst through. Emma was calling for her father. As soon as he stepped into the mansion, he stood at the door, watching the Duke of Rabney take Lady Christian directly to the parlor. They disappeared on the other side of the door.

  The Corning housekeeper, Gertrude, came quickly from a back room, looking at Emma with fear in her eyes.

  “Lady Wentworth,” she said urgently. “Come with me, Miss. Your father wishes to speak to you.”

  Emma nodded and followed the woman toward the back room where her father was. The Duke of Lox stayed back, not wanting to intrude. He found himself standing next to Camilla, both of them looking helplessly after the young woman as she dashed toward the back of the house.

  He looked down at Camilla. “Lady Fielding, I feel as though my heart is breaking.”

  Camilla looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I have been fearing this day since his grace became ill, my lord,” she replied. “I do not know what to do to help my cousin. My uncle is such a good man. He was a very playful father. When Emma and I were young, he would take us to the pond and to town and he would buy beautiful dresses for us both, even though he did not need to.”

  “I do not wish to intrude on the family’s private business,” he said quietly as he walked toward the parlor to join the Duke of Rabney. “But I get the feeling they are ailing financially. Is this true?”

  “I do not know about their private business, my lord,” Camilla responded, following him. “But I do know that Emma must be married soon. She has been told to marry by the end of the season or she may be subject to…” Camilla stopped talking. She did not know Emma’s fate. She should not speak of such things to the Duke of Lox.

  The Duke of Lox did not need any further prompting. It was his guess that if Emma was unable to find a suitable husband by the time her father passed on, she may be subject to an arranged marriage of convenience.

  He knew this situation would subject Emma to a life of misery. It was clear to him she had a mind of her own. He did not want to dampen the woman’s spirit. He would make a good husband for her.

  But how would he convince her of that when she was so determined to think badly of him?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emma raced back to the back room and pushed Gertrude to the side to enter the room. Her step-mother was standing next to the bed, looking down at the Duke of Corning with fear in her eyes. When she looked up at Emma, she shook her head.

  “Do not fear, Emma,” she said quietly. “He is still with us.”

  Emma went directly to the bed and knelt next to it, placing one hand on her father’s arm. “Papa,” she murmured. “Papa.”

  The Duke of Corning turned his eyes to his daughter slowly. She tried to smile at him but it was shaky and weak. “My daughter,” the Duke of Corning breathed. “I am happy to see you.”

  “Papa, you cannot leave me yet. Please do not leave me yet.”

  The Duke of Corning rolled his eyes to his wife. “I wish to speak with my daughter alone, my wife.”

  “Of course, your grace.” The Duchess of Corning bowed slightly, lowering her head and closing her eyes briefly. She backed away and then turned to leave quickly.

  Emma did not turn her head to watch but her father’s eyes followed his wife as she left. Then he looked at her again. “My beautiful daughter,” he said in a voice so low, Emma had to raise up and sit on the side of the bed to get close enough to hear him. “I love you with all my heart.”

  “I know, Papa,” Emma whispered. “I love you, too. So very much. Please do not leave me.”

  The Duke of Corning shook his head almost unnoticeably. “I have no control, my dear. But I am trying. I try to hold on for my dear, sweet beautiful daughter.”

  Emma lowered her head, letting her tears slide down her cheeks. She rested one hand on his arm while taking his hand in the other.

  “I see your mother in you so often.” The Duke of Corning surveyed his daughter’s face. She was ashamed that she was crying uncontrollably. Her tears came from relief that her father was still alive and fear that he would not be for much longer. “She was a wonderful woman, Emma. She was an amazing woman who had spirit in every bone in her body. She was also quite funny.” He grinned. “She made me laugh like… like I have never laughed in my life.”

  Emma wished she could remember her mother better. The eight years she’d had her and her father both had been the most magical time of her life. Whenever memories popped into her mind, she felt a mixture of sorrow and happiness.

  “Papa, I do not know what I will do without you in my life.”

  The Duke of Corning acted like he had not heard what she said. “You inherited your mother’s spirit, my Emma. You will make a man very happy. I want you to be happy, too. You must find a man who will fulfill your every need, your dreams, your goals. You must find a man who will take care of you and care for you at the same time.”

  “I know, Papa,” Emma whispered, squeezing his hand. “I am trying.”
/>   Thoughts of the Duke of Andryse and Lord Archibald ran quickly through her mind. The Duke of Corning must have seen the look that passed over her face because he suddenly looked very sad.

  “I was under the assumption you had a suitor in mind,” he said. She blinked at him.

  “What makes you say that, Papa? I have not mentioned anyone to you.”

  “Your sister came in before you. She told me that there is a man you are interested in. She was very flattering of this Duke of Lox. I would like to meet with him and speak with him.”

  Emma shook her head, picturing the handsome duke in her mind. It made her heart flutter a bit but she denied it was because of any attraction she felt. The Duke of Lox was already spoken for, according to Lady Christian’s behavior.

  “You do not desire the Duke of Lox as a husband?” The Duke of Corning sounded disappointed. Emma wondered why. He had not met with the Duke of Lox. As far as she knew, he knew nothing about the man.

  “I have not considered it.” It was a half-truth. She had considered it briefly at the beginning but had quickly changed her mind. His skill at dancing, his charm, his good looks, it was true the Duke of Lox had much going for him. But now there was the introduction of Lady Christian, who was obviously enthralled with the Duke of Lox to the point that she came all the way from America in search of him. Apparently, it was not the first time she had traveled a great distance to be near the Duke of Lox.

  “My daughter, you know better than to lie to your father, do you not?”

  Emma was relieved that her father sounded as though he was regaining some of his strength. Instead of becoming weaker, he looked as though her presence had infused him with energy he had not previously had.

  She tried to smile at him, squeezing his hand again. “I do not lie, Papa. I may have considered it for a moment or two but the Duke of Lox has much to deal with. He…” She did not know how to tell her father about Lady Christian. It was embarrassing and humiliating.

  “If you feel he is worth considering for a moment or two, perhaps you should give him more time. You cannot determine the essence of a man in only a moment or two. You must converse with him, take into account his history, his family, the generations that came before him.”

  “But Papa, he seems to be already spoken for.”

  The Duke of Corning frowned as if he was extremely disappointed by the news. “I did not hear this. Who is he betrothed to?”

  Emma swallowed. She could not continue with her father believing the Duke of Lox and Lady Christian were already betrothed. She spoke the truth in a gentle, quiet voice, “I cannot say that the Duke of Lox is betrothed to Lady Christian but it does appear to be so. Or it will be shortly forthcoming.”

  Her father gazed at her face, running his eyes over her features with love in his eyes. Emma wanted to drown in that love. She wanted it to never end. She wanted her father to live forever.

  “Papa, oh, Papa!” Emma lowered herself to the bed, resting her head on her father’s shoulder gently. She held up enough to not rest her entire body weight on him. She turned her head and placed two kisses on his cheek, delighting when it made him smile from ear to ear. “I do not know what to do, Papa. I am so confused.”

  “My sweet Emma, you are so like your mother.”

  Emma could hear the sorrow in her father’s voice. He had been missing her every day since her death. His remarriage was not of complete desperation but the Duchess of Corning had done him some good and Emma knew it. Despite the fear that the Duchess of Corning would insist she marry Lord Archibald or anyone else for that matter, she knew that her father loved the woman. She would never disrespect her father or the duchess by complaining.

  She did not want to live a miserable life with a man she did not love. But how could she burden her father with this during the last days of his life? What could she say to ease his mind?

  “Tell me how I am like my mother, Papa,” she said softly. While he spoke, she pulled herself up on the bed to lay next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, folding her arms around one of his and holding on desperately.

  “I have told you this before, my dear,” he said quietly. She smiled against his shoulder, turning her head just enough to place a kiss on the thin bone protruding from the thin blanket that covered him.

  “I want to hear it again, Papa.” She said the words but, in her mind, she ended the sentence with before it is too late.

  “You have the same coloring as her,” the Duke of Corning began. He would mention the same things he always mentioned whenever he spoke of her mother. She knew exactly what he would say. She did not care that he said the same things each time. It was a loving reminder that her mother had stayed alive to her father because she was alive. She reminded him of the first love in his life. And he showed his gratitude by giving her the most love a father could show a daughter.

  Emma pulled her legs up so that her knees were against his side. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft tone of his voice as he spoke. She did not want to fall asleep but found herself becoming drowsy.

  He spoke of her eyes and her facial features that matched her mother’s so well. He said he was glad she had not taken after him because he would not make a good-looking woman. They both chuckled softly at that.

  There were several phrases her mother often said that Emma had picked up on naturally when she was young and had used ever since. He mentioned each and every one of them, equating each with a short anecdote about why that particular phrase was so funny.

  Emma stayed where she was with her eyes closed, her arms wrapped around her father’s thin arm, her face pressed against his.

  When her father stopped talking, she was nearly asleep. The ceasing of his words caused her to become alert. She picked up her face and looked at him. His eyes were closed. If it were not for the continuous rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, she might have run screaming from the room.

  But he was still with her. He was still alive, breathing, speaking, loving.

  She did not want to lose her dear father. She would give anything to keep him alive forever. At least throughout her own life. She reached up and placed one hand on his scruffy cheek. Her step-mother had not had a servant shave the Duke of Corning in several days. The hair that grew from his chin and cheek was soft.

  “Do not leave me, Papa,” she whispered quietly so as not to wake him. “Give me time. I cannot go on without you. I am too young to lose you. You are too young to lose me! Papa, I need you. I love you. Please do not leave me. You are my rock, my guardian. My papa. I love you, Papa. Do not leave me.”

  She felt the tears coming once more and decided she could not cry on her father’s shoulder while he was sleeping. She slid off the bed and went back to the door.

  She turned once there and looked back at him. “I love you, Papa,” she whispered, gazing at him through mournful, loving eyes. “I would rather be a spinster all of my life than lose you.”

  She stood for a moment longer, looking at her father, remembering when he was stronger, more energetic, healthy enough to lift two little girls on his shoulders and carry them around.

  She turned away and went through the door, her head low, tears flowing freely from her eyes once she was on the other side of the door.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Camilla met her at the door, surrounding her with her arms. “Oh, Emma! I must tell you something. Come with me.”

  Emma looked at her with confused eyes. “What is it, Camilla?”

  Her cousin pulled gently on Emma’s arm. “Come with me,” she said quietly. She hurried to the front door and waited there for Emma. Emma followed her, looking around the empty foyer. She assumed everyone was in the parlor.

  Camilla was very concerned about something. Emma was anxious to hear what it was. It was making her nervous. Camilla’s pretty, slender face looked distraught.

  The two women went out on the front porch. At the steps, when Camilla still hadn’t spoken, Emma said, “Camilla, what
is it?”

  Camilla looked over her shoulder, shaking her head. She reached back and took Emma’s hand, leading her to the garden. Once they were there, they sat at a bench in front of a tall statue, under a large tree. Camilla sighed. “Oh, Emma. I feel bad but I do not feel bad.”

  “About what?”

  “I was in the foyer, waiting for you to come out of your father’s room. I overheard your mother talking to Katherine. She said…” She shook her head. “She said as soon as your father passes on, she’s going to arrange for you to be married to Lord Archibald. She’s already spoken with him about it and he’s agreed to pay her a great deal of money and to continue paying for their upkeep after you’re married to him.”

  A chill ran through Emma’s body. This was exactly what she’d suspected would happen but prayed it would not. She turned her eyes and stared out into the distance, wondering if she should scream or cry.

  The next moment anger split through her. “I do not understand what she has against me,” she moaned. “I have not done anything to her. I have always followed her rules and done what she has told me to do. I… I do not deserve to be treated like a piece of property.”

  “I know.” Camilla’s voice was distraught. “I have been rolling ideas through my mind, trying to figure out if there’s anything I can do. I know the Duke of Rabney will soon ask my father for my hand in marriage. I will be happy. You will not. I cannot stand that. The thought is terrifying to me. I want to run away with you. Or maybe the Duke of Rabney will take you away. Maybe the Duke of Lox will take you away. But…”

  Camilla’s eyes moved over Emma’s shoulder. She grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her to her feet, standing up. “Oh no,” she said quietly.

  “What is it now?” Emma turned and looked behind her. Lord Archibald was riding up on horseback, looking extremely pleased with himself. Emma echoed Camilla’s sentiment. “Oh no…” She turned back to Camilla. “She has brought him here to meet my father. How could she do that? He is ill. He is…” Tears rose to her eyes and she lowered her head, placing one hand on her forehead. The thought of her father meeting the man, the Duchess of Corning introducing him as a suitor for her, was devastating.

 

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