by Dawn Brower
Chapter 4
Emma had spent a great deal of time pondering Lady Sophia’s drawing since yesterday. She felt bird-witted for not asking after the girl’s mother. In truth the thought had never crossed her mind. She’d been far too concerned with her own well being.
She angled her head, looking at the duke from beneath the brim of her bonnet. “I hope I did not overstep yesterday. I must admit to being caught off guard by Lady Sophia’s drawing.”
The duke led her onto a shaded garden path. “Not at all. I should have told you about my wife’s passing.”
Emma shook her head. “No, the fault is mine as it never occurred to me to ask after your wife and it most certainly should have. How long has she been gone?”
The duke released a breath. “Six months.”
Emma gasped then pressed her lips together the stifle her shock. The family should be in morning yet there were no signs of it. Why? She glanced at their surroundings not at all sure what to say next for it would be rude of her to pry into his personal affairs. Still, what sort of man did not grieve the death of his wife?
“Let us sit and I will explain.” The duke brought her to a cast iron bench under a lime tree. It’s umbrella of leaves casting them in shade.
She lowered herself onto the cool surface then smoothed her skirts as she waited for him to go on.
He positioned himself beside her but kept his attention trained elsewhere as he looked straight ahead out into the garden. “My wife died six months ago, but she has been gone from us since Sophia was five years of age.”
“I’m sorry.” The words hardly seemed sufficient. Emma plucked at her skirt, hoping he had more to tell her as she still did not understand his reasoning.
“Do not be. I have no grief for her loss.” He turned to Emma, a mixture of anger and relief in his gaze. “She was a heartless woman who abandoned us for her lover. They ran off to France and she never looked back. She never sent so much a letter asking after Sophia’s well being.”
Emma’s heart hitched for the pain both the duke and Lady Sophia had experienced. After all, her own father had done much the same thing to her when he’d abandoned her, selling her to Uncle Silas and Aunt Charlotte.
“When I received word that she had met her end, I felt relief for it meant she could not show back up in our lives, bring more hurt on our daughter.”
Emma reached for his hand and gave a little squeeze. “I understand, better than you might think. My father abandoned me after my mother passed away. That is how I came to live with my aunt and uncle.”
He gave a sympathetic smirk. “I worry about Sophia growing up without a mother. But at least now, she will never have to know that her mother choose not to be with her.”
“Indeed, there is a small blessing in that.” Emma offered a comforting grin. “Lady Sophia is a delightful girl. Smart and sweet. Any woman should be proud to call her daughter.”
“I take it the lessons are going well, then?”
“Indeed. There is nothing I have taught her that she has not taken right to. Of course we have just begun, but I am optimistic. You have done a wonderful job with her, Your Grace. Don’t ever doubt it.”
His lips twitched. “Will you feel the same when her mischievous side makes an appearance?”
“Absolutely.” Emma grinned. “In fact I am looking forward to her antics.”
He stood then helped her to her feet. “I somehow doubt the truth of your words.”
“Never doubt my sincerity, Your Grace.” She angled her head, giving him an amused glance. “Children are wonderful. They keep us young and bring laughter into our lives.”
Emma allowed him to lead her back onto the trail, tipping her chin up to feel the sun on her face when they came out of the shade.
“Would you laugh if you found a frog in your shoe?” He asked, his eyes sparkling.
“Yes.”
“What if you found a wild creature in your room? Say a fawn or pheasant.”
She laughed. “I would give it a name and make it a pet.”
“You would not.” He joined in her merriment, chuckling as he swept her onto a new path.
“I most certainly would.”
“And if you discovered your favorite frock had been rolled in mud?”
She attempted to appear serious, drawing her eyebrows together. “I would make mud pies.”
The duke patted her hand, grinning. “I do believe you will fit in perfectly here.”
Emma gazed at him. “Thank—” Her slipper caught on something and she tripped, her heart skipping a beat as his grace pulled her into his arms.
He held her tight against him in a protective embrace. “I have you.” He stared into her eyes as he brought his lips to hers.
Heat fanned through Emma at the gentle pressure of his lips on hers. Like a perfect hoyden she wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head inviting him to deepen the kiss.
The duke accepted her wonton invitation, sliding his tongue into her inviting mouth. He was so close, so warm, her head swam, heart pounding as desire pooled in her midsection. She gave as well as she got, clinging to him, forgetting herself in his arms.
As suddenly as she’d been pulled against him, he set her aside breaking their connection, all of the humor gone from his expression as he looked at her apologetically. “I should not have taken advantage of your close proximity. If you will excuse me, I will leave you to your lessons.” The duke bowed, turned on his heels and left Emma watching as he strolled away.
Aaron sat in the family parlor, his feet stretched out before him as he watched Sophia play on the floor nearby with the doll he’d brought her from London. He would do anything to see his daughter well adjusted and happy. It was, for that very reason, he’d hired Miss…the hell with it, Emma, to be here governess. Why the devil had he kissed the woman? He rubbed his neck, averting his attention to the fire crackling in the hearth. Had he learned nothing from Sophia’s mother?
Beautiful, young women brought nothing but betrayal and chaos. They used men to gain what they wanted then destroyed them before moving on. He could not become entangled with Emma, would not allow himself or Sophia to get hurt again.
He glanced back down at his daughter who wore a look of concentration as she played with the dolls golden locks. Sophia was smitten. He sighed. They were already at risk. He could no more deny his attraction to Emma than Sophia’s attachment to the woman.
Emma had gotten to them—captivated them.
Hell he’d spent the whole day between thinking about the memory of her lips on his, wanting more of her, and trying to forget what had happened. Emma had turned him upside down, charmed him from almost the moment they’d met and ignited his passion with her kiss.
He glanced at the door when the sound of footfalls intruded on his thoughts and his pulse speed up. Emma strolled into the room, her hips swaying, hair shining in the candle light, and face glowing. Bloody hell, he was in trouble.
“Miss Baxter. Do say you will read to me?” Sophia laid her doll on the settee and reached for the book on the table beside it.
A thread of unease spiraled through him. Should he say something to her? Leave the room, perhaps? He watched as Emma moved to sit beside Sophia. Taking the book she opened it and began reading. When Sophia curled up beside her, Emma wrapped one arm protectively around her and all thought fled Aaron’s mind as he watched them.
Miss Emma Baxter was nothing like his dead wife.
Sophia’s mother had not had a maternal bone in her whole body. Hell a pack of wolves would have made a better mother to Sophia then his wife ever had. Furthermore, Emma was not demanding, she was gentle and kind, as well as fun to be around in ways his wife never had been.
It was not fair of him to compare the two women and he’d not do it anymore. Besides, he and Emma were not courting. She was his employee—nothing more. Aaron relaxed into the chair and allowed himself to be carried away in the story she read. Her voice wrapping him in serenity the
likes of which he had not felt in a long time.
“Your Grace.” He opened his eyes, turning his head toward the nanny’s voice as Emma stopped reading.
“I have come to take Lady Sophia to bed.”
“I will tuck her in this night.” Aaron rose, stretching his neck and shoulders. “Come along, Poppet.”
Sophia reached out and hugged Emma. “Good night.”
He watched his heart melting as Emma wrapped a protective arm around his daughter.
“Good night, Princess.” She dropped a kiss on Sophia’s forehead further endearing herself to him.
The tender moment brought a tear to his eye for he could plainly see the bond that had formed between the two—and in such a short time. There was no doubt Emma cared for Sophia regardless of how she’d come to be in his carriage, and a woman who held such a deep regard for a child that did not come from her own womb had to be a good woman.
In that moment, he resolved to protect and care for Emma come what may.
She released Sophia and the pair stood. “I am for bed as well. Good night, Your Grace.”
“And to you as well,” he said, as he scooped Sophia into his arms.
When he reached Sophia’s bedchamber, he waited outside the door as her maid helped her into her night clothes. Once she was ready, he laid her on her featherbed then pulled her pink duvet over her small body, tucking in the edges around her just the way she liked. “Sleep well, Poppet.”
Sophia stared up at him. “Daddy, will I ever have a mama?”
“You do have a mama. She simply lives with the angels.” His heart ached for his daughter, but there was nothing he could do other than love her himself. He bent to kiss her.
Sophia placed her hands on his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “I mean a new mama. One who lives here with us?”
He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. “Perhaps, someday.”
She smiled, releasing his face to settle against her pillow. “I should rather like for Miss Emma to be my mama.”
Aaron grinned half in amusement and half because he did not know what else to do. “Sweet dreams, little one.” He delivered the kiss he’d intended before she had waylaid him, then left the room with a heavy heart.
Chapter 5
Emma should not be standing here, outside of Lady Sophia’s door. Nonetheless, she had to pass the girls bedchamber in order to reach her own. When she heard the girl’s question, she could not stop herself from pausing to listen. Now her heart ached for Sophia and the pain she understood all too well herself.
What she would not give to heal the wound Sophia’s mother created with her selfish actions. She hopped the woman passed away feeling some measure of guilt and regret for she deserved no less.
Emma took a couple of steps toward her chamber then froze at the girls next words, ‘I should rather like for Miss Emma to be my mama’. Bless her little soul. Tears formed in Emma’s eyes and she squeezed them shut in an effort to keep from crying. No child should have to grow up without parents to cherish and spoil them.
Opening her eyes, Emma resolved to be as much like a mother to Lady Sophia as her position would allow. She drew a deep breath knowing she would never be able to erase the girls hurt, but perhaps she could ease it a bit. Regardless, she would do all she could.
The door to Sophia’s room pushed opened, the duke stepping out into the hall.
Emma jumped, her heart skipping a beat. Drat! She’d been so distracted in her thoughts that she’d not heard the duke’s footfalls. “I did not mean to eavesdrop. It is just…well I was—” Good heaven’s her face burned.
“She is young and knows not what she says.” He averted his gaze to the plush carpeting they stood upon.
“Do accept my apologies. It was not my intent to spy on your private moment.” She started down the hall, wishing she could sink into the carpet and disappear.
He reached for her, capturing her elbow. “I do not wish for there to be awkwardness between us.”
Emma met his stare, offering a warm smile. “Lady Sophia is a lovely child. Any woman should be pleased to call her their daughter.”
Before she could react, his Grace pulled her against him, brining their lips together.
Her stomach fluttered as passion spread through her. When his tongue met hers, she melted in his arms, giving herself fully.
He eased back, breaking their kiss but not releasing her.
Emma’s heart beat in a rough staccato, every bit of her fighting a craving the likes of which she’d never experienced. She licked her lower lip, staring at him. Waiting to discover what he would do next.
“We must talk.” He released her and proffered an arm.
Not what she had wanted nor expected, she hid her disappointment by glancing down the hall. She arrived in his private parlor with her heart still pounding, and lowered herself onto a wingback chair.
He sat opposite her then leaned forward and took her hands in his. The heat between them threatened to turn her into ash as she waiting for him to speak.
“It does not escape me that I know almost nothing about you. Most concerning, I do not know how you came to be hiding in my coach.” He stared at her with sympathetic eyes. “You can trust me, Emma.”
Her eyes widened at the use of her given name and she attempted to pull back her hands.
He held on, rubbing small circles on the backs of her hands with the pads of his thumbs. “It is my wish to protect you. However, I cannot do so if I do not understand the danger you are in.”
The more he talked, the harder she found it to breath. Dare she tell him her secret? What if she did and he cast her out? She never should have hid in that blasted carriage. Now she cared deeply for Lady Sophia and could not deny an attachment to the duke as well. If he sent her away it would bring more heartache for Lady Sophia and it would be all Emma’s fault.
“Trust me.” He smiled, fine lines forming at the edges of his eyes.
Emma inhaled then let her breath out slow. “I told you about my father abandoning me and my aunt’s passing.”
He nodded, continuing to rub her hands, to reassure her with his gaze.
“What I did not share with you was that my uncle is deep in debt.”
Rap, rap, rap.
Irritation clouded the duke’s warm gaze as he let go of her hands. “Hold your thought. I will get rid of whoever it is.”
She released a breath, grateful for the interruption, then averted her gaze to the closed door.
“Enter,” the duke said.
A maid opened the door, sticking her head into the room. “Lady Sophia asked for you, my lord. She is restless and a bit out of sorts.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes for a moment, then stood.
The woman shrank back into the hall, closing the door in her wake.
The duke leveled his gaze on Emma. “I must go to her.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
He stepped closer and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You have leave to call me Aaron.”
She angled her head to look at him. “Aaron.” His name left her lips barley a whisper, and though she’d never spoken it before, it felt comfortable on her tongue.
. “We will finish this conversation on the marrow.” He patted her shoulder before moving toward the door.
She sank back against the chair as she watched him take his leave of the parlor. What would he think of her once he knew her secret? What would he do? She closed her eyes, pushing away the worry. There would be time enough for that tomorrow.
Aaron strode down the hallway toward Sophia’s room, his mind racing. He adored his daughter, but bloody hell parenting was hard work. He had to discover Emma’s past in order to protect not only her, but also Sophia—and himself. Each day that past without him knowing how she came o be hidden in his coach presented more danger to them all.
Emma had told him her uncle was destitute. Worse, he was deep in debt. Had she hid in his carriage hoping to some
how entrap or swindle him? Perhaps the passion in her kisses was a farce meant to bring him to heal.
No. She’d not have told him about her uncle’s debt if she had meant to swindle or trap him in order to pay the accounts. But what then? He massaged the back of his neck as he continued along the hall. Perhaps she truly sought a paid position so that she might be able to help the man who raised her?
Turning the corner leading to Sophia’s bedchamber, he hurried his pace. Hiding in his carriage would be an odd way to go about securing a job, however the idea held more merit than his previous pondering.
After all, a destitute woman would not be able to hire a carriage of any kind. Even a mail coach would be above her means. Regardless, he did not believe such a compassionate woman capable of taking advantage of him—and certainly not of Sophia.
Reaching the room, he stepped in and went to Sophia’s side. “What is the matter, Poppet?” he asked.
She sniffled, wiping away a tear. “I’m lonely. Will you stay with me for a while, Daddy?”
“Of course.” He settled into the pink and grey brocade chair beside her bed. “Now close your eyes, darling.”
She fluttered her long golden lashes. “Thank you.”
He reached out to stroke her hair. “Go to sleep. I will stay right here. You have my word.”
She rubbed the corner of her blanket between her tiny fingers. “As a gentleman?”
“Yes, as a gentleman.” Her eyes closed as he continued to smooth the hair on the top of her head. He sighed, releasing the stress of his day as he watched her relax, his own eyes growing heavy.
Sometime later, Aaron woke to bright rays of sunshine streaming through sheer pink curtains. Somehow he’d managed to sleep the entire night in Sophia’s chair. He straightened stretching his stiff muscles, then glanced at her empty bed before peering out the window at the suns orb well above the horizon. It must be after breakfast time.
Pushing his tasseled hair into place, he left the room in search of Sophia. He peaked into the playroom, family parlor, and school room before coming upon Sophia’s nanny in a corridor. “Where has Lady Sophia gotten off to this morning?”