“Everyone will expect some bauble on your finger.” Edmund insisted. “After all, you are married to a duke.”
“Thomas never even gave me even the simplest of wedding bands.” How truly married was she if she could not claim even that?
The fire in Edmund’s eyes flared at the mention of his late brother’s name. “I wouldn’t want you wearing his ring. I’d have it melted down and sold for scrap.” Edmund stood and began to pace. “It truly saddens me, Genie. I have tried everything to woo you. Nothing seems to work.”
Eugenia remained quiet. He could go on thinking along those lines forever as far as she was concerned.
“You seemed to like me much better as Franz Mueller. Shall I dress in gold brocade and don the powered wig?” He hunched in the Franz-like stance and toddled around shaking his head, mumbling in German in Franz’s voice. Edmund looked ridiculous and she laughed.
It seemed so very long ago, Franz and Brighton. The image of the musician came to mind. He was so odd, so silly, so wonderful.
Franz her ally, Franz her friend.
Edmund was Franz, she reminded herself. Why did Eugenia find that so hard to believe?
As Franz, he had provided friendship, companionship, constant comfort, and a shoulder to lean on. Not to mention saving her life … twice.
On the other hand, Edmund had used her to gain information about his brother, Thomas, and lied to her a countless number of times.
That afternoon Eugenia received a letter from her mother. In it Mama encouraged her to remain with Edmund and face their difficulties to a passable end.
Her mother was of no help at all. What did being a duchess truly mean if one’s mother was constantly dashing one’s plans and pointing out one’s place?
Chapter 10
Before Eugenia had finished her evening’s toilette, the Rothford jewels arrived. In the small chest were an elegant matching set consisting of large sapphires with smaller diamonds and pearls in coordinating tiara, necklace, bracelet, brooch, and ring. They were grand beyond her imagination. Eugenia thought perhaps there might be a more deserving duchess than she to wear them.
She wore the white satin gown with the French lace. Now that she was married, she did not need to wear white, meant for her London Season debut, but it would be regrettable to allow it to hang in the clothespress unworn.
She sat at her dressing table while Marianne styled her hair. Eugenia opted to wear the simple golden locket her aunt Rose had given her. It was very modest, especially compared to the Rothford family jewels.
She looked upon her fine reflection in the dressing table glass, fingered the locket, and thought of Aunt Rose. Where was she now and what was she doing?
Just as Marianne finished and left, closing the bedchamber door behind her, a knock at the door announced Dawson with a letter.
Eugenia opened the missive and it did not come as a surprise that it was from her aunt Rose. The woman was absolutely amazing. She wrote that she was off to Bath. Was that not just like her? When everyone flocked to London, she headed in the opposite direction.
There was no mention of Eugenia’s abrupt departure from Brookhaven or the subsequent letter she had written upon her arrival at Rothford House. None of it seemed to worry her aunt. What would she have done if she had known her niece had been kidnapped?
Marianne came bolting into the room.
“Your Grace, your aunt is here.”
“Aunt Rose?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Mr. Dawson has placed her in the drawing room.”
But how … so soon? Eugenia had just received her letter. How was it possible? She gathered her skirts and rushed off to see the lovely, elderly relative.
Aunt Rose was real. Eugenia saw her with her very own eyes. What she found even more surprising was that she had apparently broken up a positively intimate coze between her and Edmund. What could they possibly have to say to each other?
“My sweet, your aunt is here, isn’t this wonderful?” Edmund proclaimed.
Eugenia did not know why but he did not seem surprised by her arrival.
Aunt Rose opened her arms wide to greet her niece. Eugenia moved toward her and they pressed cheeks in welcome.
“I’m so glad to see you looking well, Eugenia,” she said.
Eugenia felt horrid. “I suppose I’m baffled at your presence. I only just received your letter saying you’re off to Bath.”
“Of course, I am off to Bath, my dear Eugenia. I’m just taking the route through London.” Aunt Rose circled her niece as she spoke.
Eugenia was not sure if her aunt was inspecting the result of her toilette or observing her condition as a whole.
“You left Brookhaven without a proper good-bye.” She glanced at Edmund. “Can you blame me for worrying about your welfare?”
“I do apologize for my abrupt departure.” It wasn’t as if Eugenia had a choice with Thomas Mallick dragging her off. “I did send a note.”
“Yes, yes, and His Grace, here, also sent his personal reassurance that you were well.” Aunt Rose embraced Eugenia lightly and patted her on the back in the most affectionate way. “I must admit some confusion regarding the whole incident.”
“Mrs. Templeton tells me she’ll be staying with us for a few weeks, if that’s all right, my dear,” Edmund interrupted. His eyes stared at Eugenia, bright and wide.
“That is wonderful.” Nothing could have made her happier. She was in dire need of the company of a loving family member. “Only now I’m afraid we’re off to Mama’s.”
“I understand, dear, do not give it another thought. You and Edmund go right ahead, by all means enjoy yourselves.” Aunt Rose tugged at her gloves, pulling her hands free.
“I cannot leave you behind like this … not alone.” Eugenia began to regret their evening plans.
“Do not think of it as leaving me behind. Give your mama and papa my best and do beg their forgiveness for my absence—simply mention that I have been traveling.” Aunt Rose smiled one of her most pointed, knowing smiles. “The day has been a long one for me. I am fatigued from my long journey and wish only to rest. They will understand.”
Aunt Rose followed the housekeeper, who led her toward the stairs to take her to her rooms.
“I will see the two of you in the morning. Have a good time, my dear.” She looked around her niece, at Edmund, and winked. “You too, Your Grace.”
Eugenia’s mind was in a muddle. Her aunt’s unexpected arrival had baffled her. Going to Bath through London? Ridiculous, even for Aunt Rose.
“We should be on our way,” Edmund said from somewhere behind her.
Dawson brought Edmund’s hat, gloves, and coat. Edmund held a fur-lined cloak to drape over Eugenia’s shoulders.
“That’s not mine,” she stated, stepping away from the expensive outerwear.
“Yes, it is. It’s my gift to you.” It was a lovely dark gray with soft white fur, lining, and trim. “I can’t take a chance you’d catch a chill.”
Chilled? He created more chills down her spine than she could have caught had she run through the dead of winter stark naked.
“Very well.” Eugenia turned, allowing him to drape the cloak about her shoulders. She could feel him near. His warm breath caressed the nape of her neck, and she held her breath with dread, with fear, no … with anticipation, of Edmund’s soft kiss.
“I hope you are pleased with it,” he said simply without any of the terms of endearment he usually added.
She faced him and caught a peculiar look in his eyes. It left her with a very unsettled feeling. Without a word, he helped her board the carriage.
They arrived at South Audley Street and he escorted her to the front door of her parents’ house, where she was welcomed not as a returning daughter but as a ranking member of Society.
The greeting was restrained, cool, not at all what Eugenia had expected. She had hardly recovered from her earlier surprises of the evening when she was faced with yet another. Her dear friends Miss Cynth
ia Penshurst and Lady Penelope Coddington were also in attendance.
The three young ladies fell into one another’s arms in screams of joyous rapture. It seemed Edmund was responsible for this delightful reunion, Cynthia and Penelope told their friend, the new Duchess.
With tear-filled eyes, Eugenia stared at her husband, knowing mere words could not express the gratitude she truly felt. He returned a small, polite smile on his blurry face.
Eugenia led Cynthia and Penelope to the front parlor and left Mama and Papa to fawn over their new son-in-law.
“Oh, Eugenia, I can’t tell you what a relief it is to see you well,” Cynthia began.
“Cynthia, Genie’s more than well, she’s a duchess now.” Penelope winked, sounding more than pleased for her friend.
“Your Grace!” they chorused and dipped into a deep curtsy before breaking into unbridled laugh ter. Cynthia and Penelope grabbed onto each other, nearly toppling over.
“Oh, stop it!” Eugenia scolded them. “I’m still the same. I haven’t changed in the least.”
How she wished she could return to that time when the three of them were in Brighton, having the most enjoyable time imaginable, acting silly and giggling over the smallest amusing detail at the local assembly.
“How can you possibly be the same, Genie?” Penelope sent a lingering look out the parlor door toward Edmund, who looked quite dashing in his evening attire. “The duke is so very handsome. I’m quite sure his love must have somehow changed you.”
Cynthia followed Penelope’s gaze out the door, making her own observations. “He has such smoldering eyes, and wonderfully strong broad shoulders … I am sure it could cause one to—” She stopped and took a deep breath, fanning the rising color in her face.
“We know that you would never have married him if you weren’t completely in love,” Penelope whispered.
“Yes, Genie, tell us how it all happened?” Cynthia had learned her overeager curiosity from the hours she’d spent with Eugenia, most likely.
“Yes, tell us how you two fell in love!” Penelope urged.
The two friends giggled then sighed at the very thought of Eugenia and Edmund’s mutual affection.
Were she and Edmund in love?
“Oh, Eugenia, it’s only that we’re quite jealous of your good fortune,” Cynthia purred.
Eugenia would not claim anything that had happened to her this past month as with the words good fortune. She led her friends to the striped sofa where they sat hand in hand in hand.
“When you did not return to the house after we had split up, we were terribly worried,” Penelope said. “You remember, after our morning ride? We meant to race back to the stable. Your horse came back to the barn riderless.”
“We were so worried and we did not know what to do.”
Eugenia could see the concerned, anxious look on Cynthia’s face.
“My parents were on their way to town with Lady Coddington and your aunt Rose. All the guests searched for you. We had the servants out, helping us look for you.”
Now Eugenia understood why Brookhaven had been empty. She had wondered at the time where the staff and all the guests had gone, and why it was no one heard her cries for help.
“If it weren’t for Franz’s poor riding skills, we would have never known what happened to you,” Cynthia sighed.
“Franz?” Eugenia managed. But Franz-Edmund had been with her.
“Did you not know? It was such a trial for him to sit atop a horse. It took him forever to return to the house. He told us he saw you leave with Edmund.” Penelope glanced toward Cynthia as if to check that she had the facts correct.
“Did he, now?” Eugenia looked from Penelope to Cynthia, thinking what an odd thing it was for him to have said.
“You most probably never saw him.” Cynthia shrugged.
“Franz said he had taken a tumble off his horse on the other side of the stream, you see,” Penelope explained.
“He said he felt safer if he walked his mount back to the stables. To tell the truth I think the poor dear was afraid of horses,” Cynthia told them in confidence.
“The tall shrubs and trees probably hid his approach,” Penelope continued. “He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, of course, but had he moved, he might have spoiled the moment.”
“Ah, yes, the moment,” Eugenia echoed, wondering to which moment Franz with his very active imagination had referred.
“He told us how romantic it all was.” Penelope sighed and gazed heavenward.
“Was it? Romantic?” Eugenia believed it was then she began to feel ill. How could her friends think such a thing when they could not have been more wrong?
“Oh, yes,” Cynthia fantasized, a dreamy expression crossed her face. “After years away from his country, Edmund, the returning Duke of Rothford, was determined to reclaim his title. However, once he laid eyes on you he fell desperately in love.”
“He first saw you in Brighton, you know.” Penelope informed her. “Edmund couldn’t allow Thomas to take you away as he had stolen the title, years before. He learned that you were to go to Brookhaven and followed, staying in nearby Haslemere.”
Cynthia went on, “Franz overheard the duke—Edmund—say that he did not wish to make his presence known to the others and meant for you alone to see him so he could explain his circumstance.”
“He has such high admiration for you.” Penelope sighed again. “It was so very wonderful.”
The entire scenario was so very silly.
“Edmund watched us ride off in different directions as we raced home.” Lady Penelope blinked. “Then he began his pursuit while you were alone. He said that it was very difficult to gallop his horse up to yours. He was surprised that you were such a bruising rider.”
It was all Eugenia could do not to choke at how ridiculous that story sounded. A bruising rider, indeed!
“He expressed his undying love for you. He wanted you to run off and become his duchess!” Cynthia sat forward.
“Then the two of you returned to Brookhaven while everyone was out searching. You took only a few of your things and left with the man you love.” Penelope’s breaths came and went in gasps.
Eugenia thought she might expire on the spot.
“Oh, Genie, what is it like to have a man express his undying love to you?” Cynthia gushed, staring at Eugenia, waiting for her answer.
“Well …” Eugenia had to think about what she would say very carefully. “It wasn’t exactly undying love he was expressing to me.”
“I hear he wanted to marry you that very day.” Penelope went on with certainty.
“He wanted to lay his entire dukedom at your feet.” Cynthia honestly believed every word of Franz-Edmund’s outrageous tale.
Eugenia tried to inject some sensibility into this conversation. “I cannot in all good conscience admit that any of what you say is—”
“It was a love match.” Penelope sighed and squeezed her eyes tight.
It was perfectly clear to Eugenia they hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Their minds were already grasped on to the ridiculous notion that she had taken part in the most romantic epic of the decade.
It was then the dinner gong sounded and they left for the dining room. It was a good thing too. Eugenia did not know how much more gammon she could have taken.
Eugenia hardly touched anything on her plate. With all the talk of her elopement, Franz, and true love, she wasn’t very hungry. After the meal, Cynthia, Penelope, Mama, and Eugenia removed to the parlor, leaving Papa and Edmund to enjoy their port.
“I can’t believe you’re married to a duke.” Penelope drew in a breath and held it, starting the whole wretched business again.
“But he isn’t the same duke you set your cap for in Brighton, is he, Genie?” Cynthia asked with a tilt of her head. She lowered herself onto the sofa next to Penelope.
Eugenia saw the scandal trying to raise its ugly head. She had agreed to stay married to Edmund to prevent gossip and disgrace. Befo
re her eyes, Eugenia’s friends were in the midst of revealing her involvement in a matrimonial triangle.
“No,” Eugenia answered. How was she to word her side of the story? How much of the truth would it be safe to tell? Eugenia decided to tell them as little as possible without lying.
“Edmund is Thomas’ brother. Elder brother.”
“Oh, I see, Genie. You found out Thomas wasn’t really a duke and decided to go after the bigger fish.” Cynthia giggled and playfully patted her arm.
“Isn’t that just like you?” Penelope chuckled. They both had a good laugh.
Instead of growing angry, a relieved Eugenia allowed her two friends to go on believing that Banbury tale they’d told her. If that was the story they could easily accept, so much the better.
“It was love at first sight,” Edmund said, coming into the drawing room, reinforcing her friends’ nonsensical notions and silencing any further questions with his timely presence. And none too soon as far as Eugenia was concerned.
He stood by her side and gave a longing gaze with a few heartfelt sighs, which seemed in line with the romantic saga. Apparently it was enough to convince the guests.
“It’s all so wonderfully romantic.” Cynthia clasped her hands in front of her and gazed at Edmund as if he were some type of fantasy prince. She stood and strolled over to the pianoforte and glanced at Eugenia. “Let’s do sing something!”
“I’m afraid I cannot possibly.” Eugenia could not tolerate a round of sickeningly sweet love songs.
Cynthia rounded on Edmund. “Do you play, Your Grace?”
“I’m afraid I am not that well-versed at the instrument,” Edmund lied with a frighteningly calm expression so as not to give himself away.
Eugenia choked. “Excuse me.” He must have thought the less he had in common with Franz the better.
“It’s a shame that Franz is not here to play for us,” Cynthia lamented, dropping her wistful smile if only for a moment. “He accompanied me so wonderfully on the pianoforte.”
“Where is Herr Mueller?” Eugenia made sure not to gaze at Edmund when she asked.
“Oh, Franz went back to Austria. I believe he’s received a commission for an opera. He was very excited.” Cynthia flipped through the music but paused to contemplate. “It was all he could do to relay what he’d seen to us, regarding you and Edmund. Then he packed and left.”
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