“Of course, your grace,” Jack replied as the elderly peer rose from the sofa. “How do you do, sir?”
“I have not seen you in a dog’s age, Devruex,” the earl said jovially after they had bowed.
Jack had always admired the handsome, engaging earl, even envying Monteford for having a grandfather he could be proud of.
From his open, friendly manner, Jack had to assume that the earl was unaware that he had challenged his only grandson to a duel. With an inward shrug, Jack decided that suited him just fine.
Finally, fighting to keep his expression from revealing too much to the duchess and Lord Pellerton, he turned to Emma.
“Good afternoon, Lady Fallbrook. I trust you are in good health,” he said, bowing deeply before her.
“I am perfectly well, Lord Devruex, thank you,” she said in a polite voice. She even managed a smile that did not reach her eyes, he observed as he seated himself in the chair next to hers.
Now what? he wondered impatiently as the dowager duchess and the earl beamed smiles upon him.
It had been his hope that he would find Emma and her grandmother alone so that he could suggest that Emma take a drive in the park with him. But the earl’s presence changed his plans. It would be rude to attempt to steal away one of the ladies the earl had come to visit.
“I am rather surprised to see you, for I had heard that you were off readying your wonderful horse for the Duke of Severly’s race,” the dowager said as she prepared his tea and handed him the cup. He was impressed that she remembered the way he liked it.
“I have recently spent time at my house in the country, but returned several days ago,” he replied.
“I attended a race a while back and saw your filly nose out Grafton’s,” the earl said. “Terribly exciting. Do you think she can do it again?”
Jack shrugged. “Circes certainly has the heart for it, but racing is a tricky thing. All the horses entered into the Severly are exceptional animals. Any horse in the field can win.”
His gaze strayed to Emma and he wondered if she remembered all the conversations they had had years ago about starting a racing stud. She had not only been supportive, but had made suggestions that showed she was truly interested. As a young lady she had been an impressive horsewoman, and when he had watched her ride away the morning they spoke in Green Park, it was obvious that her skills had only improved.
Emma kept her serene gaze fixed upon her grandmother.
“Well, my granddaughter and I are certainly looking forward to watching your horse run. We shall be attending the races and the ball afterward.” The duchess shot a pointed look at Emma.
Jack watched with great interest as this comment finally elicited a reaction from Emma. She compressed her lips slightly and set her cup and saucer on the table next to her.
“I had not intended to go to the Severly races. In fact, because of correspondence I recently received, I shall need to return home shortly.”
Jack felt his grip tighten on the delicate cup as her words sank in.
A flash of unthinking anger had him about to speak, when the dowager duchess said in a clear, crisp voice, “Nonsense, my dear. I am quite counting on you to attend with me. Surely, whatever calls you back to Yorkshire can be postponed for a week or two?”
“Indeed,” the earl said in a cheerful, yet firm voice, “the Severly is all the crack—it really cannot be missed. I shall be attending with my grandson. I do not put too fine a point on it to say that we would both be desolate if you were not there.”
Jack saw her swallow at the mention of Monteford and for a brief instant her gaze met his. The moment of shared amusement before her polite mask slipped back into place had his pulse quickening.
The duchess picked up a biscuit from the tiered tray on the table before her and placed it on her saucer. “We have already accepted the invitation. Really, it would be too disappointing for you to leave Town right now.”
Emma’s shoulders lifted briefly. “I doubt that the duke and duchess would be disappointed by one less guest.”
“You are mistaken,” Jack said. “There are a number of people who would be greatly disappointed if you did not go to the Severly races.”
She turned her soft blue gaze to his and he tried his best to read them. Did he see vulnerability, mistrust, determination? Yes, he believed he did.
But what he did not see, as he continued to gaze into her beautiful eyes, was the anger that had been there the night they had danced together at the Colhurst ball.
He felt his chest tighten at this new knowledge and had to fight the desire to reach out and touch her porcelain-smooth cheek.
A moment later, the sweep of her lowered lashes hid her eyes from him and she sighed softly.
“Nevertheless,” she said, turning to her grandmother, “I shall be leaving London this week.”
Struggling to hold his tongue, Jack glanced at the duchess. Despite her polite half smile, her gaze had a look of such steely determination he suddenly knew where Emma got her stubborn streak.
“Well, we shall certainly discuss this later,” she said with a sniff. “More tea, Lord Devruex?”
Before Jack could reply, the door opened and Simms stepped in and bowed. “Lady Cowper and Lady Westlake, your grace,” he announced precisely.
As the elegant ladies swept into the room, Jack and the earl stood up. Glancing at the grand clock standing next to the door, Jack realized that he had already stayed for nearly half an hour.
Knowing what a stickler the dowager duchess was for protocol, Jack regretfully decided to take his leave, lest the duchess take him in dislike for overstaying his welcome.
Evidently, the earl had the same thought, for once the greetings had been exchanged with the newcomers and they had been seated, the earl remained standing as well.
“As much as I hate to leave this delightful company, I must be off,” the earl stated as he bent to salute the duchess’s hand.
“And I must follow Lord Pellerton,” Jack said, looking directly at Emma, who seemed to be finding her cup extremely fascinating.
“How very good of you both to depart,” Lady Cowper said with a saucy grin, the egret feathers in her bonnet dancing merrily. “It will be much easier to gossip about you if you are not here.”
Everyone laughed at this quip and the duchess said, “I do hope you both will visit again soon.”
Jack did not think that it was his imagination that her gaze lingered upon him fondly. Well, at least he could count on the formidable old lady’s support, Jack thought with grim satisfaction.
He had definitely botched it the other night by the fountain, he admitted. His bald proposal had obviously been too abrupt after Emma had revealed such painful emotions to him.
Nevertheless, despite his uncharacteristically maladroit behavior, he had no intention of letting her run off and leave him again without letting him explain his own feelings.
With another bow and a last glance to Emma, whose expression was again politely unreadable, Jack followed Lord Pellerton from the room.
Once downstairs, both men stood in the foyer for a moment as attentive footmen produced their hats and walking sticks.
“Walk with me a bit, Devruex,” the earl said after instructing Simms to have his tiger follow him in his curricle.
With a feeling of curiosity, Jack said, “Certainly, sir,” as they walked down the marble steps to the sidewalk.
They strolled a little ways down the tree-lined, sun-dappled street before the earl finally spoke.
“I hope I don’t need to tell you that I hold you in high esteem and have enjoyed watching your growing success over the years,” he said without preamble.
Although Jack and the earl had always been on the most cordial terms, Jack now noticed a slight coolness in the older man’s slightly raspy voice. “I am most gratified, my lord,” Jack said as a mail coach lumbered by.
“Forgive my blunt speech, but you may not be aware that my grandson and Lady Fallbroo
k are developing a very promising understanding. I know that you would not wish for your interest in the lovely lady to cause any awkwardness.”
Jack stopped and gazed at the proud-looking old man with a slight frown. After silently cursing Monteford for his spineless conduct, Jack said, “Lord Pellerton, your kindness to me over the years has meant a great deal to me. I mean no disrespect when I inform you that your opinion of Lady Fallbrook and your grandson is erroneous. And forgive my bluntness, but even if it were not, I have no intention of being gentlemanly and bowing out.”
The earl’s stunned expression gave Jack no satisfaction as they stared at each other in silence for several moments.
Suddenly, the earl’s face broke into a crinkled smile. He then began to laugh heartily as he leaned upon his ornately carved walking stick. “Good for you, young man. But I must tell you that I have known the formidable Duchess of Kelbourne for close to forty years. And after spending a little time with the enigmatic Lady Fallbrook I can see that the apple has not fallen far from tree. I’d be willing to bet a monkey that she won’t have either of you.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Emma had never pushed her horse, Titus, so hard. But as they flew across the deserted expanse of Green Park, she sensed that the gelding was reveling in the exertion as much as she.
As the horse’s hooves pounded the ground and the wind whipped her sheer veil, Emma attempted to gain control of her chaotic emotions.
“I am right to leave,” she aloud. “I would be a fool to stay.”
As she bent low over the pommel and guided the horse in a wide arc, her heart clenched at the scene she had just left at the townhouse. She was still reeling from the first argument she and her grandmother had ever engaged in.
Ever since Jack had called a few days ago—throwing her into a state of tension and confusion—Grandmère had been pressuring her to attend the Severly races.
Emma had steadfastly resisted her grandmother’s reasoning, cajoling, and arguing until she felt her nerves were stretched beyond their endurance.
Though it was difficult to disappoint Grandmère, she would leave London and not continue to put herself in harm’s way—meaning anywhere near Jack Devruex.
After all, it had taken every ounce of her self-control to be in Jack’s presence and ignore the smoldering, challenging look in his eyes as he sat next to her.
What did he want? she wondered as she urged Titus to run faster. Out of hand, she discounted Jack’s hasty offer of marriage. Yet she could not forget the deep timbre in his voice as he told her that she wanted him.
With a fluttery little catch in her heart she told herself it was pointless to keep lying to herself about this.
She did want him. Everything about him made her senses vibrate. His dark eyes, angled cheekbones, and square jaw had always been, to her, the masculine ideal of beauty. His broad shoulders, tapered waist, and muscular legs caused butterflies in her stomach.
Yes, she wanted him.
But every logical instinct within her shouted that she would be risking tenfold the pain she had experienced thirteen years ago if she indulged her desire.
She had come to London with the vague, half-formed plan to find romance, but never once had it been her intention to gamble her heart again.
Thirteen years had not been enough to rid herself of these intense, consuming feelings for him, she thought angrily.
She must go home before she did something foolish.
Unfortunately, Grandmère had been equally determined that she should stay.
This morning, as Emma had been helping Milton finish packing, Grandmère had appeared at her bedroom door, dressed for the day in a gray-blue traveling costume.
Emma had been surprised to see her up so early, but the militant gleam in her eyes had made Emma stop folding a paisley shawl.
“Milton, you will prepare a case with the appropriate clothing for a two nights’ stay at the Duke and Duchess of Severly’s estate. There will be a horserace this afternoon and a ball this evening. I shall expect my granddaughter to be the most fashionable lady there.”
Emma had shifted her surprised gaze to the stout maid and was greatly exasperated to see a look of satisfaction on her features.
“At once, your grace.” Milton had curtsied quickly and then begun pulling gowns from the trunk.
Emma tossed the shawl aside. “Grandmère, I would ask you not to order my maid to do something expressly against my wishes. Milton, continue packing.”
Milton hesitated, looked mutinous for a moment, then sent the duchess a defeated look and resumed her task.
Her grandmother had puffed herself up and tried to stare Emma into acquiescence. However, Emma was more than determined to hold her ground as Milton darted nervous looks at each of them as she continued to fill the trunks.
After a moment or two of staring at one another across the bedchamber, Grandmère tried a different strategy. “This ridiculous situation has my nerves quite agitated, Emmaline. Why are you being so wretchedly difficult?”
“I am certainly not trying to be difficult, Grandmère. I am merely preparing to return home.”
“Stuff and nonsense. I insist that you accompany me to Longdown. I have already accepted the invitation for both of us.”
“That certainly does not signify. And I have absolutely no desire to go to Longdown.”
“You are being childish,” Grandmère had accused.
“And you are being a martinet,” Emma had snapped back, unable to control her exasperation.
They went back and forth in this manner for some time, each becoming more frustrated with the other, before Emma had had quite enough.
“I have no intention of continuing this pointless argument, Grandmère. I shall go for a gallop to give us both a chance to cool off. But I intend to leave for Melhem before midday.” With that, she had actually walked out on her stunned grandmother, something she had never done before.
Now, as she continued to ride at a fast clip, she felt heartsick at exchanging such harsh words with her beloved grandmother.
Even so, she still had no intention of going to Longdown.
Feeling her temper cooling, she reined Titus slightly, but still let him run. Although she felt a certain amount of relief that she would soon be returning to the familiar routine of her life in Yorkshire, there was a heavy weight in her heart that forced tears to her eyes—but they were not completely caused by her argument with Grandmère.
“I got over him before. I’ll get over him again,” she said aloud, and Titus twitched his ears in response to the torment in her voice.
Just then, she caught sight of a shiny red gig being pulled by two white ponies a short distance away.
“Not again,” she said through gritted teeth as the driver vigorously waved in her direction.
Reflexively, she slowed Titus to a trot and watched in dismay as Mrs. Willoughby waved even more vigorously, practically falling out of the little conveyance in her efforts to gain Emma’s attention.
With a gusty sigh, Emma turned Titus toward the gig. Lord knew if she did not, Mrs. Willoughby would likely chase her down.
“Good morning, Mrs. Willoughby. We really must stop meeting this way,” she said as she rode up next to the beautiful courtesan.
Mrs. Willoughby gazed up at her from beneath a bonnet trimmed in gathers of pink ribbon. Even from her perch on the horse, Emma could see that there were dark circles under her finely tilted eyes.
“I was hoping that I would find you riding this morning. In fact, I have come early for the last three mornings looking for you. It’s been most inconvenient.”
Emma suppressed a laugh. Despite Mrs. Willoughby’s ill-mannered behavior, Emma was surprised to find that she could not take her into complete dislike. Perhaps it was because there was something rather artless about her outrageousness, Emma mused.
“Forgive me for not being clairvoyant,” Emma said, but there was no sting in her tone.
“Oh, never m
ind,” Mrs. Willoughby said, alighting from the gig. “Are you going to get off that beast so that I can speak to you, or must I crane my neck?”
Emma instantly recanted her charitable thoughts. “I don’t believe I will stay after all. Good day.”
Mrs. Willoughby put up a staying hand. “I’m sorry. Don’t be annoyed. You are annoyed, are you not? It is hard to tell because you always sound so dashed polite.”
Emma hesitated. After her row with Grandmère she was in no humor to listen to Mrs. Willoughby accuse her of trying to steal Lord Monteford from her again.
“Please stay, your ladyship. There is something important I must speak to you about.”
Emma gazed down at the younger woman and saw the look of urgent pleading in her gaze. Shrugging, she said, “All right then, but I have only a few moments.”
She meant it, for she wanted to return to the townhouse and smooth everything over with Grandmère—as long as the iron-willed old lady did not continue to pressure her about going to the races.
After dismounting from Titus, they walked to the little clump of trees where they had talked before. Emma waited impatiently as Mrs. Willoughby paced upon the grass, her soft pink gown and pelisse giving her an innocent appearance.
“I might as well just say it. Monteford and I have parted ways.”
At this blunt statement, Emma raised a brow and said, “I do not know why you would think that I care.” Actually, she did wonder what became of mistresses under such circumstances. She could not imagine that Mrs. Willoughby had enough money to support herself in the manner she so obviously was accustomed to.
Mrs. Willoughby bit her lip. “That is not really the reason I hailed you. You see, his grandfather is being wretchedly tightfisted and has cut Monteford off without a farthing until he finds a wife with plump pockets.”
“So?” Emma was beginning to lose what little patience she had.
“You mustn’t judge him too harshly because he has grown rather desperate in the last few days. You see, he cannot pay his bootmaker and—”
“Mrs. Willoughby, would you please get to the reason you insisted upon speaking to me?”
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