“Your confidence means a great deal, Your Grace.”
With an exhale, the duke continued in a voice eerily calm. “This is how you’ll rectify the damage your transgression’s caused.”
Never a good omen if Nick could believe Pembrooke. “I’m at your service,” Nick offered.
“Somerton, I do not want to hear one utterance until I finish.” The duke’s cheeks burned crimson, and his eyes flashed with heat. “You march straight to Doctor’s Commons tomorrow and get a special license. Understand?”
Nick nodded his agreement. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
“Then I want you here posthaste,” Langham continued as if Nick were a scribe taking notes for the duke’s pleasure. “We’ll have the service here.”
“I cannot do that.” Pinpricks of irritation burst inside head, but he ignored them. This was his due for compromising Emma. “There are several matters I must manage before we marry.”
“Such as,” the duke drawled clearly displeased.
“Seeing my solicitor about my will and securing my wife’s wedding present.” That was all the information Langham would receive from Nick. “Plus, my staff needs extra time to make her chambers ready for tomorrow.”
The duke’s face relaxed and his steel-blue eyes flashed. “I always thought you’d make an admirable son-in-law,” he exhaled. “But I never dreamed it would be under these circumstances.”
Shameful heat coursed through his veins. “I truly apologize. I never meant to hurt Emma or you and your duchess.”
“Believe it or not, I understand your situation.” A rueful smile creased the duke’s mouth. “Sometimes, if you’re lucky, a woman consumes you.”
Relief began to course through Nick, and he started to relax. The confrontation had been nonexistent.
“Do you love my daughter?” The duke’s cerulean eyes burned straight through Nick’s chest to the rusty enclosure that kept his heart safe and protected.
He waited for Langham to examine the deficiency he’d find in the center of that cage. Renowned for his acute perceptions, the duke would surely find every one of Nick’s flaws. “Your Grace, I don’t have an answer to your question.”
“You soon will,” the duke muttered under his breath as he straightened his desk. “One more thing.” Langham captured his gaze. “I think it best you not say anything to Emma about our meeting. If she catches wind and reacts, The Midnight Cryer will make her their lead article, causing even more damage. I rather we keep this quiet.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
With a blinding smile, the duke stood and pulled the bell cord to summon a servant. Without addressing Nick, he proceeded to the side table and then poured a glass of Claire’s family whisky.
Nick stood ready to take his leave. Immediately, the study door swung open and hearty male laughter spilled into the room. Pembrooke, McCalpin, and William clearly had waited for the summons.
McCalpin extended his hand. “Welcome to the family.”
“You’re a brave man, Somerton.” William slapped him on the back. “She’s worth it though.”
Not trusting himself to speak, Nick nodded his thanks. He swallowed the overwhelming lump in his throat. He truly was part of a family now.
Alex offered his own congratulations. “I’m happy for you.” He stole a glance at the Cavensham men who had gathered around the whisky-filled glasses. “I always knew this was your destiny. You chose well, my friend.”
Soon everyone had a glass. The duke’s gaze fell to Nick. “I’m delighted to announce that Somerton will soon be an official member of this family. Every day, I find I fall in love with my duchess all over again. I hope you and Emma find the same happiness.”
After the resounding Huzzahs and Hear, hear’s, laughs and toasts and stories were passed throughout the gathering.
After midnight, Nick found himself in his study where he poured a fingerful of Claire’s family whisky. Lord William had insisted he take a bottle home.
The duke’s question of whether he loved Emma had tormented him all evening.
God help both them both if he did.
His inevitable companion, doubt, crept into his thoughts. Emma’s marriage expectations were a mystery except that she wanted no part of it.
Their marriage would require he attempt to win her over after the ceremony. Convince her he wanted her as his wife. If that wasn’t a recipe for disaster, then he didn’t know what was.
He’d never wooed anything in his life, unless he counted his father’s old hunting dog. His success at courting had turned out rather poorly. He’d wanted the dog to sleep with him at night, but the mongrel had bit him in the hand after he’d fed her his entire meal one day. It was the last time he had attempted anything along those lines. Now, he had no idea how to behave or what to do.
His creativity was nonexistent, which didn’t bode well for his chance to convince Emma that he wanted this marriage.
Chapter Seventeen
Finally, the last of the rain had departed, and the rest of the day lent itself to a leisurely walk about Langham Park. A murmuration of starlings darted back and forth across the trees, maneuvering to find a spot to land for the night. Emma understood their yearning, at home yet still restless. She didn’t belong here, but had no place else.
Rumors about her and Nick had been fueled by The Midnight Cryer’s daily taunts. Daphne had warned her that Aulton had made a public spectacle of informing the biggest scandalmongers in town that he’d personally seen Nick enter Emma’s bedroom in Portsmouth. The increasing gossip and insinuations from society and the talk of her involvement with Nick had ruined her opportunity to bring Aulton to justice. She hadn’t even been able to work on the idea of opening her bank. Her parents had dictated she stay confined to Langham Hall.
She reached inside the pocket of her pelisse. The weight of Lena’s letter to Audra rested against her fingers. For the first time, the comfort and strength she usually drew from reading the vellum were missing.
Questions kept needling her. Did Lena ever find any enjoyment in her marriage? If she’d had married another man besides Aulton, would Emma’s own perceptions of marriage be skewed differently? How could some couples have success like her parents and Claire and Alex while others seemed doomed from the start to share a horrible union?
No matter how much she cared for Nick, she’d be true to herself. His proposal was a weight tied to her heart. She could easily capitulate and make her family happy and relieved. But she might lose the freedom she so desperately valued.
After she finished her walk, she entered Langham Hall to find Pitts patiently waited. “My lady, the duke and duchess would like a word. They’re in the study.” He quietly added, “Lord Somerton is with them.”
He’d finally come. The urge to flee whipped through her something fierce, but she stood rooted, unable to move. Nick had visited Langham Hall yesterday, but hadn’t asked to see her. No doubt the reason for his visit had been to address the swirl of rumors with her father.
Today, they’d put his marriage proposal behind them, then determine the best course of action. Her heart lurched with the sudden realization she and Nick would soon find their relationship completely changed. The only question was whether they’d still be friends—friends who enjoyed an easy companionship or people who avoided each other in order to keep the gossip contained. She straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin, ready to face whatever lay ahead of her.
“Thank you, Pitts.”
The butler gave a noncommittal smile. “My lady, my assurance means nothing, but I believe everything happens for a reason.”
She turned without answering and headed for the study. Pitts meant well, but if anything, his words made her more uneasy. When she walked through the door, both her parents and Somerton turned at her entrance.
“Lady Emma, won’t you sit down?” Her father waved a hand toward a chair next to her mother. His hard gaze branded her cheeks.
He
never called her “Lady Emma” unless she was in dire trouble. The fire’s crackle turned into a mocking annoyance as it amplified the hell that surely awaited her.
“Emma, I’m flummoxed at where to begin.” Her father spoke quite calmly, but the exasperation in his tone colored every word. “God’s teeth, these rumors are vicious. Somerton’s come to help put this mess behind you both.”
Unable to answer, her gaze flew to Nick.
He walked toward her, his eyes warm as if coaxing her to trust him. With an athletic grace, he quickly moved to her side. She tensed when he reached to take her hand in his.
“Lady Emma, please accept my heartfelt apology if I’ve caught you unawares.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as he bent over her hand. “Circumstances require we act.”
Her parents were forcing him to marry her.
“Stop!” She stood and backed far away from her parents and Nick. “We can’t marry!” Shock kept her from running out of the room. They hadn’t even discussed options. Without her even having the opportunity to voice her opinion, they’d decided her future. Their stratagem felt like a betrayal, and it cut deep with a ragged edge.
Her mother answered without hesitation. “Emma, if Lord Somerton hadn’t come forward, no telling how deep the damage to your reputation would be. There is only a small window. You should be thanking him. This isn’t some adventure that went haywire. This is life.”
There was no anger, but she recognized resignation. Her mother was the most astute person she knew, and she’d accepted this fiasco without question.
“You were aware of the consequences when you set off for Portsmouth.” Her father’s steely voice vibrated with a barely controlled emotion. He ran his hand over his face. “Personally, I’m not all certain I could withstand another of your escapades. Perhaps Somerton can maintain some control.”
“Control? This wasn’t an adventure or an escapade. My actions were for Lena. Both of you have raised me to be the type of person who is aware of what is right and wrong.” It took every ounce of strength not to scream at the frustration that pulsed through her veins. “You’ve instilled in me a sense of duty. I followed my heart. And now, I’m to be punished?”
“This isn’t punishment. This is having a care for your well-being.” Her father’s sympathetic gaze rested on her. “Puss, you’ll not escape this.”
Stunned, she fought for something—anything—to say. Her ability to reason her way out of this was disappearing like sand in an hourglass. “Nothing happened in Portsmouth. What about me having the choice?”
Her father humphed and shook his head. “Here’s your choice. Somerton or Lord Paul Barstowe. Both have offered for you. Unfortunately, Lord LaTourell withdrew his interest after the barrage of rumors. He had to protect his sisters.”
“That’s not a choice.” She strove for calmness, but it failed miserably. “Lord Paul offered for me? I haven’t seen him.…” She couldn’t remember the last time they’d met at a social gathering. “What did you do? Approach every duke in the kingdom and ask if their sons would agree to marry me?”
“Puss, believe it or not, they approached me.” His voice was gentle, but there was a hardness in the words, one that foretold she’d not escape.
“Enough.” Her mother walked to her father’s side. “Lord Somerton has secured a special license. The only solution is that you’ll marry.”
Her heart began to beat in an erratic pattern, one so off-rhythm it was entirely possible she’d faint. She was to marry? Tonight? What about finding her own purpose? The need to pursue all means to see Lena’s death avenged?
As importantly, what about Nick? Everyone in the entire ton knew he shunned marriage. He refused to attend any type of social event that carried the smallest hint of matrimony.
For heaven’s sake, he’d never even attended Almack’s. They were both condemned because of Portsmouth.
The need to rebel rose, and she found the strength to fight. “No.”
“Oh yes, my love.” Her mother’s gentle voice didn’t soften the message. “The vicar is waiting in your father’s study. The ceremony shall take place immediately. Only family will attend. It will be your father and me, Claire and Alex, McCalpin and William.”
Emma winced as if a runaway horse were headed straight for her and she couldn’t get out of the way.
Her mother addressed Nick. “Lord Somerton, if you prefer, we could wait until morning when your father is available.”
Nick answered in a polite but curt manner, the cold radiating from him apparent to all. “Renton will not attend my marriage.”
Her mother nodded, and an awkward silence filled the room.
Emma’s mind tried to recall everything Claire had divulged about Nick and his father. There was an estrangement, but over what? She couldn’t recall, and it made her panic even greater. What kind of a home and family would she have? She had scant details about his past.
“Then allow our family to act as yours before the ceremony. We certainly will be after the fact, Somerton,” her father added with a smile of understanding.
The imaginary horse had throttled her. Her own parents favored Nick at this point.
“Mother, please,” she begged. “What if I stayed at Falmont or Claire’s Edinburgh estate until another scandal erupts? I could miss the entire next Season if need be.” She closed her eyes and concentrated on presenting other options. What if Mary needed her help and she wasn’t here? The tangle facing her was becoming more knotted as the seconds slipped by.
Somehow, Nick had moved behind her to provide support while her parents commanded her to accept their demand. The warmth from his body wasn’t enough to soften what was happening to them.
“Might Lady Emma and I have a few moments together? If you’d allow us to speak privately in the music room, I could explain my intentions. Perhaps alleviate some of her apprehension?” His voice resonated behind her, and her traitorous body hummed in appreciation.
Was nothing in her control anymore?
Both of her parents nodded their agreement. Nick held a strong, steady grasp on her elbow.
At that moment she understood what the little girl in the woods faced when confronted by the wolf. Only the wolf before her was dressed in breeches and a handsome broadcloth coat. The hair was suspect, but Nick’s nose looked perfectly normal.
* * *
His valet, Whaley, had tried repeatedly to convince Nick to wear other colors besides his normal black and gray. He typically dismissed the valet’s suggestions since he liked to stay hidden. Colors reminded him of peacocks trying to show off in front of peahens. He’d never wanted any part of that spectacle. For once, he was relieved Whaley had an uncanny knack for pushing him to dress with more care to the current fashion. He’d wanted to look his best tonight when he convinced Emma to marry him.
With his navy velvet waistcoat and buff-colored breeches, Nick was ready to face Emma’s inquisition. His effort to secure the music room door caused the piano and harp strings to vibrate in an off-key serenade.
Wary and ready to flee, she stood tall with her verdant eyes following his every move. She clasped her arms tightly around her waist either to ward off the cold or, more likely, the realization she would lose this fight.
“Emma.” He attempted to take her in his arms. Her scent reminded him of summer and their nights in Portsmouth. “I owe you an explanation and an apology.”
“What possessed you to agree to this?” she hissed with indignation as she darted to the window.
She resembled a wounded animal cornered—ready to lash out and attack. He stepped closer. She didn’t move a muscle, but a small tic below her left eye betrayed her distress.
“Together, we could have presented a united front.” She lifted her chin and boldly stared back. The defiance in her posture and the challenge in her eyes transformed her. She’d always been beautiful to him, but today, she was stunning in her resistance.
The task was his alone to convince her to see
reason. “Circumstances took the decision out of our control. I’ll not let you suffer from the vicious rumors.”
“What circumstances?” Her eyes glistened with the sheen of tears. She swallowed hard and threw words at him with a newfound strength in her voice. “I won’t marry you because of Portsmouth.”
The bitterness in her voice made him pause. His future and hers depended on the next few moments. He had to make her understand why their marriage was important to him.
He took a deep breath and prayed for a little help. “All my life I’ve strived to be a man of integrity. To allow you to bear the brunt of any rumor or innuendo goes against everything I am.”
She hugged herself tighter and surveyed the room, but it didn’t hide the pain in her eyes.
“Emma, it defines me. Without it, I’m nothing. I beg you, don’t take that away from me.”
“You deserve more than a marriage resulting from your sense of honor,” she whispered. “You must see reason. I deserve more, and more importantly, so do you.”
“What do you want? Lord Paul?” He waited for her answer. That it would haunt him for the rest of his life made little difference. If she wanted another, he’d do everything in his power to make her happy, but he’d not stand by and witness someone else take her for his bride.
She shook her head.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Love? Romance?” His father’s words once again carved another scar, another doubt, whether he deserved happiness of his own. For a fleeting moment, the sudden onslaught of pain had him questioning his ability to make her happy.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. She rubbed her forehead, then locked her gaze with his. “If I did want a husband, I’d want a partner who would need and want me in the same manner that I’d need and want him. Someone who would support my work. Someone to help me … forget my past mistakes.”
“Won’t you let me try to be that man?” he coaxed. “Portsmouth isn’t the reason I want to marry you. We’re well acquainted, better than most couples who’ve been married for years.” In one stealth stride, he closed the distance between them and clasped her arms. “That’s justification to marry.”
The Bride Who Got Lucky Page 20