Always Forever (Emerson Book 5)

by Maureen Driscoll

  For his part, Nate seemed not to notice her artifice. He smiled charmingly, then welcomed both the duke and duchess, as if one weren’t trying to kill him and the other to bed him.

  Rose mentally chastised herself. Mayhap she was not giving the duchess the benefit of the doubt. After all, the only thing she truly knew about the lady was that she’d had the poor sense to marry the duke. Perhaps she was simply nervous and trying to be friendly in an innocent way.

  Like hell she is, said Rose’s inner voice as the duchess swept right by her, taking Nate’s arm and walking toward the castle entrance. Nate turned to offer his other arm to his wife, only to have the duke take Rose’s arm before she could move.

  “It looks like we are left to the rear,” said Bancroft, as he escorted Rose to the castle. “I hope you have been settling in well.”

  “Thank you, your grace. It is a big adjustment, but I know I shall be happy as long as I am by Nate’s side.”

  “An admirable sentiment to be sure,” said Bancroft. “Of course, one must always be prepared for the vagaries of fate. After all, I lost my duchess and had to forge on alone.”

  “I tend to have a more straightforward approach to life,” said Rose. “I protect what is mine and I would fight for him to my dying breath.” Nate would be appalled that she had been so direct with their enemy, but Bancroft had to know that she would protect her husband at all costs.

  The duke took her measure and, for a moment, a look of something like admiration was in his eyes. Then he bowed mockingly as he let her precede him into the castle.

  * * *

  Now that his father had returned, Nate was on edge and regretting that he had ever married Rose. Well, that was a bald-faced lie. He would never regret having Rose for his wife. But he regretted not sending her off someplace to be guarded until he had settled matters with Bancroft. He had debated asking Mr. and Mrs. Stemple to take her to the continent until it was safe to return, but while he suspected the Stemples would have gladly helped, Rose would have protested vehemently, then found a way to escape and return to the castle.

  After seeing the duchess Nate had no doubt his father would waste no time in producing an heir to take his place. He might already have started weeks ago. Nate might be safe from his father’s machinations for only nine months or less.

  The duke and duchess had retired to their respective chambers and it was decided they would all meet for dinner that night at six. Mirabelle had declared that much too early, but Bancroft had said he preferred eating that early in the country. Nate had a feeling it was his father’s way of asserting his authority in the castle. Authority that no one – not even the duchess – would be wise to challenge.

  Nate and Rose had retreated to their sitting room to quietly discuss matters. “What do you think of her?” he asked his wife, who was snuggled next to him on the settee.

  “I believe she showed entirely too much interest in you,” said Rose in a way that pleased Nate to a ridiculous extent. She was jealous, though there was certainly no reason to be. He already had the perfect wife. He certainly wouldn’t look for dalliance, particularly with his father’s bride.

  “Mayhap she was just nervous and that was her way of being friendly,” he said innocently.

  Rose pulled back to look at him. “You cannot be serious. It was obvious she wanted nothing more than to drag you off to the nearest bedchamber and have her way with you. Though I suspect she knows any number of ways to have relations that do not involve a bed. Speaking of which, when will I learn those things?”

  Nate’s groin instantly became rock hard. “Love, do not tempt me. I still want to give you time to recuperate.”

  “I have had time enough,” she said, as she slid her hand down his stomach.

  He caught her hand just in time and kissed it. “I promise I will show you everything you want to know later. But for now I need your counsel. I also thought she was a bit flirtatious with me, but cannot begin to understand why.”

  “Nate, if you do not know why a lady would flirt with you, perhaps it is I who should explain a few things to you.”

  He had to kiss her for that pert response, but kept it brief to ensure the conversation could continue. “What I meant was I wondered what she was about by flirting with me in front of Bancroft. He had to have noticed and while no man wants his wife flirting with another – pray keep that in mind, my love – Bancroft would be especially upset to see me as the object of his wife’s affections. She cannot think that humiliating the man is a wise course of action. I wonder if I should warn her about his true nature.”

  “If you think she is in imminent danger, you should tell her. However, at this juncture, I believe the wisest course of action is to wait and see what transpires. There is a possibility she is complicit in any plan Bancroft has against you. Mayhap she is trying to lure you to a place so he can harm you.” She touched his cheek, then kissed him sweetly. “Though I do think it is much more likely she simply wishes to get you alone to do things to your person.”

  Nate touched his forehead to hers. “Thank you for the warning, dear heart. And your advice is sound. We should wait to see the unfolding dynamic between them. In the meantime, I want you to promise me you will never be alone with him. And by alone, I mean even if he has one or two servants with him. Make no mistake. The servants are loyal solely to him.”

  “That may be a difficult promise to keep. We live in the same house and there may be times he wishes to speak with me and you are not here. I also do not want him to think I am afraid of him. I was always taught it is wise to keep a respectful distance from wild animals, but show no fear.”

  “I will settle for your keeping a respectful distance.” He pulled her into his embrace and they passed the time kissing, with gentle caresses until nearing the point of no return. Nate then disengaged. “Shall we dress for dinner? I have a feeling it will be an interesting night."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  As Rose entered the formal sitting room on Nate’s arm before dinner that night, she was relieved to be wearing one of Win’s gowns from London. Rose had never given much thought to her clothes before because the money which was needed to purchase gowns had so many better uses elsewhere. Like supplementing their pantry or keeping Letty in clothes when she seemed to grow every few months. But now, as she looked at Mirabelle wearing a dress of royal blue silk, with her neck, ears and wrists dripping with diamonds, Rose realized how underdressed she was with even Win’s best gown. However, it did make her feel close to her sister, which gave her the courage to keep her head held high.

  While Bancroft was wearing evening clothes which wouldn’t have looked out of place at Carlton House – at least Rose supposed that was the case, having never been there herself – Nate had attired himself much more modestly. Out of respect for his father’s position, he too, was wearing evening clothes, but likely the plainest he owned to help minimize the difference between himself and Rose.

  Both Bancroft and Mirabelle stared at Rose as she and Nate entered.

  “Bancroft,” said Mirabelle, looking rather horrified, “how provincial is this place when it is not the custom to dress for dinner?”

  “Do not worry yourself, pet,” said Bancroft, who was eyeing Rose in a manner which made her most uncomfortable. “We do dress for dinner, although Rosemary has not had the opportunity to shop for her trousseau. You will see to it, will you not, Grayson? I cannot have her grace feel we are savages.”

  “Actually, your grace,” said Nate. “A true beauty can wear the simplest of gowns and still outshine any other. I confess I have given little notice to my wife’s wardrobe, though I look forward to taking her shopping when we are next in London or Paris.”

  “Pray do not wait that long,” said Mirabelle. “I am afraid it will quite put me off my food to have to sit through many more dinners looking at gowns like that. Or do you have only the one?”

  Rose could feel Nate’s anger on her behalf, but she was more than capable of defending he
rself. “’Struth, I have given little thought to my clothes over the years, preferring instead to spend my time reading instead of looking through fashion plates. I spent many an hour playing on the estate with my sister Letty, then my niece Anna. Fortunately, it mattered little if I tore the gowns I owned, since most had already been mended. My dear sister Win was kind enough to lend me this gown and it is all the more special to me because of it. If Nate wishes to take me shopping, then I suppose I shall be an obedient wife and go to the modiste, but I would much rather spend his money at Hatchard’s book shop.”

  She was rewarded for her speech with a kiss from Nate. And not just a quick peck on the lips, but a real kiss.

  “Steady on, Grayson,” said Bancroft. “There is no cause to lose all decorum.”

  Kissing Nate had been reward enough, but Rose had to admit that seeing Mirabelle’s look of envy was quite satisfying, as well.

  “The duchess did raise a good point,” said Nate. “Until we can buy a new wardrobe for Rose, perhaps we could allay her grace’s fears about outfitting ourselves properly for dinner by giving my wife some of Mother’s jewels.”

  “What?” said Mirabelle, clearly not in charity with the request.

  “Mother told me she wanted my future wife to have the pieces from her family’s estate.”

  “But I am the duchess now,” said Mirabelle, with a vehemence which had Bancroft studying her closely. “Those jewels belong to me.”

  “It was just a thought,” said Nate, as he, too, studied the woman.

  “Your grace,” said Westfield, as he bowed to Bancroft, then turned to Mirabelle. “Your grace, dinner is served.”

  “So that means Bancroft will escort Rose in, while Nathaniel takes my arm?” asked Mirabelle.

  Before Nate could utter his vehement “no,” Bancroft had already taken his wife’s arm, “Things are a bit more informal here, as you yourself noticed, my dear.”

  Rose was relieved to see Bancroft usher his wife into the dining room. But it was clear that Mirabelle would be no ally to her or Nate.

  Nate kissed his wife again.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “Please tell me I do not need an excuse to kiss my own wife.”

  “Never,” she said, as she kissed him back.

  * * *

  At least Nate now knew Mirabelle’s primary reason for marrying Bancroft. Judging from her reaction to possibly losing jewels from the late duchess’s substantial collection, it was fairly clear Mirabelle had married the much older man for his money. He wondered if his father was aware of that.

  Bancroft had broken with tradition and seated Mirabelle at his right side, instead of at the opposite end of the long dining table. The duke had motioned for Rose to sit on his left and while Nate would have liked to have taken that seat instead, he helped his wife take her place, then sat on the other side of her.

  Despite having arrived at the castle mere hours earlier, Mirabelle was already ordering the servants about in true duchess fashion. The duke looked most pleased by his young wife’s haughty manner. Or perhaps he was just pleased with his young wife.

  As the first course was served, Mirabelle took a sip of the pheasant consommé, then made a face as if the bird had relieved itself in the broth. “This is terrible. Your chef cannot possibly be French, Bancroft.”

  “No. I never felt the need to employ a French chef here in the country. It seemed to be an unnecessary cost.”

  “But I cannot hold a dinner party without one.”

  “My chef in London is quite excellent.”

  “Then we should return there with all due haste or I shall surely starve. Take these away,” she told Westfield, who dropped his impassivity just long enough to show a flash of annoyance. Out of Bancroft’s sight, of course.

  “We shall return in good time,” said Bancroft, “as soon as I have disposed of a few matters here. In the meantime, you might wish to acquaint yourself with country living.”

  “The air seems to be of passable quality,” said his wife. “But I am not one to go about the country on horseback and I certainly cannot countenance going for long walks or whatever it is people do here when there is no decent shopping to be found.”

  “What a pity,” said Bancroft, “since I so enjoy outdoor pursuits. What about you, Rosemary? Will you ride with me?”

  “Your grace!” said Nate in warning at Bancroft’s double entendre. He could tell Rose didn’t quite understand it, but knew enough to suspect his meaning. Mirabelle, on the other hand, looked bored.

  “I have promised my husband to only ride with him,” said Rose, with a smile in his direction.

  Nate kissed her hand.

  “What a pity,” said Bancroft. “Grayson, what were you searching for in my library?”

  Nate was surprised by the question, but years as an operative had taught him to school his features. “It is a library. I was searching for something to read.”

  “In my desk?”

  Damn. Nate thought he had hidden his search of the desk well, careful to ensure each drawer was back in place.

  “I have always liked a puzzle, your grace. Your desk is similar to but different from mine. Both have an elaborate system of hidden drawers and compartments. I was testing my skills to see if I could find them. Have you ever done such a thing with my desk in London?” He would bet his life he had.

  Bancroft sat back, as if deep in thought. “I have not thought of that desk in years. Yes, I suppose I probably did go through it a few times when it first arrived from France. But as I recall, you did not have much of interest in it. Merely a few naughty drawings and such. How did you find the contents of my desk?”

  “Much the same.” Nate wondered if Bancroft was having him watched. He knew Westfield had been keeping an eye on him, but there was no way the butler could have seen him searching the desk.

  “Why don’t we speak of something more interesting,” asked Mirabelle. “I would like to throw a ball to announce our arrival. Whom shall we invite, Bancroft?”

  “Rosemary would be a better source on such things than I,” said the duke.

  Mirabelle reluctantly turned to Rose. “Well?”

  “I am certain the village would be only too pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Rose.

  “I would not even consider inviting villagers,” said Mirabelle. “I cannot think to host anyone lower than a baronet and I do hope there are not many of those about.”

  “If that is your criteria, then I believe your guest list would be limited to my brothers the Earl of Ridgeway and the Earl of Layton. You would have to extend your reach for another few villages to reach more peers. However, we do have a squire, the vicar and the American family who leased Ridgeway Manor.”

  “You must be in jest.”

  “About the Americans?”

  “About all of it. And who are the Americans?”

  “A Boston industrialist intent on marrying off his two daughters,” said Bancroft. “I thought the elder chit might snag Grayson, but he obviously had other ideas.”

  “I am quite certain we do not need two unmarried American females at the party,” said Mirabelle.

  “There is also a brother,” said Grayson. “A young strapping sort. The type with more muscles than brains,” he couldn’t resist adding, just to see the effect on both Mirabelle and the duke.

  “Mayhap we should invite the Americans,” said Mirabelle. “It might be amusing. But first, we shall have to find a better cook,” she said as she sent away yet another plate.

  “I believe the food is quite good,” said Rose with a smile for Westfield.

  Nate saw that the butler noticed her smile, but did not acknowledge it.

  “That is because you were used to having only one cook and very little choice in what you ate,” said the duchess. “I imagine even this tastes good after that.”

  “Actually, Mrs. Stemple is an excellent cook,” said Rose. “I must confess that had I stayed much longer at home I would
have gained a tremendous amount of weight.”

  “Perhaps you should have,” said Mirabelle. “You do appear to be a bit too thin.”

  Nate was about to tell Mirabelle just how perfect he found his wife, when Rose addressed Mirabelle. “Your grace – I must confess I never thought I would be addressing my husband’s stepmother so formally….”

  “Stepmother?” asked Mirabelle, horrified.

  “Oh, dear. Did you wish to refer to yourself as his mother, instead? My sister-in-law Irene refers to my niece as her daughter, even though the girl was born to a lady who passed away.”

  “Of course I do not wish to be known as his mother!” said Mirabelle rather shrilly. “He is a grown man! I believe we are nearly the same age.”

  “Truly?” asked Rose with just the right amount of polite surprise so it did not seem like an insult. Overly much.

  “Obviously!” said Mirabelle, as she threw her napkin on the table, then glared at a footman until he moved her seat back, enabling her to storm off.

  Bancroft, Nate and Rose watched her go.

  “Westfield,” said Rose, sweetly, “may I have another piece of bread? And pray pass on my compliments to Mrs. Jeffries. I have rarely tasted anything so delicious.”

  Westfield gave a half smile before complying.

  Nate had to admit that Rose was doing her best to ingratiate herself to the staff, which could help in the future. He was still frightened on her behalf, but he now knew his wife was slyer than he would have expected.

  * * *

  “I cannot imagine what Bancroft was thinking in marrying that termagant,” said Rose as she disrobed in their bedchamber later that evening. “From what Colin has told me, there are any number of young ladies who would have married a wealthy duke, regardless of his age. For that matter, I do not know how you remained unmarried all these years.”

  “I was waiting for you, of course,” said Nate.

  “Stuff and nonsense. You did not know I existed as anything other than your friends’ younger sister until I forced a kiss on you in your quarters in London. I do not know how much longer I can share a house with her. Indeed, if we did not have a mission of such great importance, I would be begging you to let us live in the dower house.”