by Regina James
With a turn of her calfskin boot, Emma hurried out of the room, away from the infuriating Duke of Daventry, whose amused laughter could be heard even after she had slammed the door behind her.
Alexander cursed his poor behaviour as he urged his stead through the misty, morning air. What on earth had he been thinking, propositioning Miss Buckland so?
He had known from the instant he saw her, nervously pacing the floor in his morning room, that she was a lady in every respect, even though her behaviour in calling on him had been most scandalous.
The memory of Miss Buckland, and her wounded blue eyes as he propositioned her made him very uncomfortable. He was too much used to associating with the demimonde, he was beginning to to forget how one should behave when around an actual lady.
What was she thinking, calling on him unchaperoned? He had watched her through the window as she made her hurried escape, carefully scanning the square to see if any prying eyes were watching.
It had not been his intention to gamble Christopher Buckland out of his fortune, but a casual game of piquet had unexpectedly turned into a high stakes affair, and as the night wore on and the stakes rose even higher, Alexander had been pleased to find he held the winning hand. Mostly because he loved to win, but also because the young Buckland was in over his head, and Alexander was probably the only gentleman at the table with any sympathy for the young lad.
The next morning, Alexander had woken to find out that the whole ton was gossiping about how the Duke of Daventry had gambled a poor, orphaned lad out of his inheritance.
He was tired. He had arranged to meet his mother for afternoon tea. And he could not get the thought of Emma Buckland out of his head.
Chapter Three
♠♠♠
Alexander Randall and Henry Thorne had ridden out from Camden House, Henry’s family home.
Henry’s mother had been friend to Alexander’s mother, and the two boys had been raised almost like brothers.
“Is your mood really still so very low?” Henry asked with concern. “Of course it is, what a ridiculous question, forgive me. Of course your mood is still low.”
“Henry, my mood is low, it is true, but I have reached the point at which I recognize the fact that I shall survive. And the fact that I feel better alerts me to the idea that things shall improve, and time is all that is needed.”
“Well, if that is the case, then I am glad that I asked this question,” Henry said. “But I cannot help thinking there is something on your mind, something that you would wish to discuss. You have a look, and I recognize it well.”
“I suppose it is difficult for me to hide things from you. Perhaps that is because we are almost as brothers.”
“We are exactly as brothers, Alexander, except that we do not argue as much as brothers might.”
Alexander turned a little in his saddle to look at Henry and smiled.
“I like to think so,” Henry went on. “So, tell me, what is it that you wish to discuss?”
“You are right, of course, I do have something that I would wish to discuss with you.”
“Then tell me,” Henry said.
“I have been thinking that I ought really to marry at the earliest opportunity,” Alexander said
“Marry? Has somebody already caught your eye?”
“Not exactly, no.”
“Then why on earth would you marry? I am afraid that I do not understand.”
“I need an heir, Henry,” Alexander said seriously. “Otherwise, it all ends with me. As you know, there is no other male heir to Langley Manor and the title.”
“So, we are to search for a wife for you, my dear fellow. Actually, it may be quite an amusing thing. A diversion, at any rate.”
“I am not sure that we shall need to look, as such.”
“Then you have found somebody already?”
"Emma Buckland," Alexander said.
“Are you acquainted with Miss Buckland?”
“Only a little. She is only the vaguest of acquaintances and nothing more.”
“Really, I am not greatly acquainted with her either, but I knew a little something of her circumstances.” Henry slowed his horse to a stop and turned to look at his friend.
“I have decided to ask Emma Buckland to marry me,” Alexander said.
“Good heavens.”
“I thought that might surprise you. But really, if you think the whole thing through, it makes perfect sense.
“So, you would seek a marriage of convenience?”
“Yes.” Alexander nodded. “Yes, I would. And, in truth, I think Miss Buckland might even prefer something similar herself.”
“Alexander, I can see all sorts wrong with this plan. Would you do me the honour of staying to dinner so that I might tell you all of the pitfalls?”
“Of course,” Alexander said and smiled, determined that nothing Henry could say would deter him from his plan.
***
The clock on the mantle was the only thing to be heard for a few minutes as Emma waited, and sure enough, there was a soft tap on the door, which opened to reveal her aunt, a worried look upon her face.
“Is everything alright, Emma?” her aunt asked softly, coming to sit beside her niece on the couch, taking one of Emma’s hands in her own.
A tear rolled down Emma’s cheek.
“No,” she sniffed, thinking upon the disastrous last week; from Christopher’s gambling shame, to the Duke of Daventry’s lewd insinuations. Her family was on the brink of ruin and there was very little she could do to save it.
“Oh, aunt," she sighed. “What will I do? I will never be able to show my face again. I will be the most pitied creature of the season.”
Aunt Caroline gave an admonishing cluck of her tongue. “I’ll not listen to that silliness from you, Emma Buckland,” she scolded kindly. “Of all people you should know that there are more important things in life than malicious tabbies who gossip. Life is short. You’ll not hide away here for the rest of the season. I want you to go upstairs now and prepare for Lady Montgomery’s soirée.”
“I can’t,” Emma looked at her aunt aghast.
How could she expect her to mingle and talk with people after such a crushing blow, how could she endure people’s stares?
“You can and you will,” her aunt was firm, her mouth set in a grim, determined line.
“But...“
“No arguing.”
Chapter Four
♠♠♠
After the death of Alexander’s father, Rebecca, Duchess of Daventry, wished Alexander to fill the home she had just left with grandchildren.
But Alexander had studiously avoided doing just that. To his mother’s despair upon taking up his role as the Duke, he had ardently pursued society’s most beautiful young widows, and not the fresh crop of debutants that appeared every spring.
“Honestly, Alexander” his mother sighed, placing her cup on its saucer and glaring at her handsome son who sat opposite her. “It’s as though you’re actively seeking out a reputation as a rake and a cad.”
Alexander responded with a sigh of his own, his handsome face cloaked in annoyance ; this damn business with the Buckland estate again.
“I was not seeking to cheat the young lad out of his inheritance, mother,” he said, with no little irritation.
“And now Emma Buckland will struggle to find anyone to marry her. It’s not like it’s her first year out, Alexander, young ladies don’t stay young forever.”
Alexander struggled to resist rolling his eyes at his mother’s prim remark.
“Well maybe there is someone who’ll marry her,” Alexander said absently.
It would solve two of his problems, the Buckland estate and his lack of a wife, not to mention his lack of interest in wooing on. This was a most practical solution indeed.
The fact that Miss Buckland was the most delectable creature he had seen for some time was an added bonus, he thought happily to himself.
“Who?” Rebecc
a’s face was shocked, and she set down her teacup. “Not you?”
“Why not me?” Alexander gave his mother a wicked smile. “Have you not been telling me that I need to settle down? Miss Buckland is an attractive young lady, I can give her brother his estate back with no loss of face… I don’t see any problems at all, do you?”
“Well no, not technically, Alexander,” his mother replied delicately. “But don’t you think you ought to ask the girl first?”
“What girl would say no to being a Duchess, mother?” Alexander said with a smile.
***
“No, no, absolutely not.” Emma stood in Lady Montgomery’s garden, staring up at the Duke of Daventry in disbelief. Had he gone completely mad?
“Why not?” the Duke stared down at her, his dark eyes flashing in annoyance.
“Because I don’t like you, let alone love you,” Emma replied exasperatedly. “Earlier you could not even offer me a civil arrangement to buy back my brother’s debt, and now you are offering me marriage? I think you are quite mad, Your Grace.”
Honestly, Emma pressed a tired hand to her brow, could today get any more exhausting? She had arrived at Lady Montgomery’s soirée earlier that evening, in her finest gown, determined to face down the gossiping tabbies of the ton.
As the evening wore on, she had endured the other guest’s pitiful stares with weary resignation, but then her discomfort had only been escalated by the arrival of the Duke of Daventry. Emma had done her best to avoid him, though everywhere she turned he was there, attempting to make his way over to her.
Before her aunt could find her in the crowd, she snuck out onto the veranda for a breath of fresh air. She couldn’t dance with anyone else, not right now anyway.
For a moment, she leaned against the cool column, thankful for the reprieve. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. As soon as her head stopped spinning, she would be able to go back inside.
But now here he was, standing in the half-light, offering for her hand.
“What does love have to do with marriage?” the Duke asked her with amusement, her angry outburst obviously not deterring him from his cause. “I am proposing a fuss-free arrangement; you become my wife and I return the estate to your brother. It’s quite simple.”
“But what do you gain from all this, Your Grace?” Emma asked with genuine interest.
“An heir."
A bubble of laughter escaped from Emma, who clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself .
“Are you laughing at me?” The Duke’s face was dark with annoyance.
“No,” Emma said.
“So I am to take it that you are refusing my offer?”
She nodded her head in answer to his question. “Yes. I don't like you and I never will."
A dark shadow fell over the Duke's face, and for a moment Emma was slightly nervous. His grip on her hand tightened and she found herself being backed against the wall, the Duke’s broad frame dwarfing her own.
“Perhaps I can give you one compelling reason to marry me, if your family’s fortune is not reason enough,” the Duke said, his deep dark eyes scanning her face with hunger. Before Emma could protest, or even begin to make sense of what was happening, the Duke had her pinned against the wall, his body pressed against hers, his lips capturing her own in a deep, passionate kiss.
It was as though she had melted, Emma’s knees were as weak as jelly as the Duke claimed her mouth with his own. One arm encircled her waist, while the other pinned her ruthlessly, yet passionately against the wall.
Emma knew she should protest, but she moaned consent against his lips. She was too far gone for fear. There was only need and hunger and his wild, wild kisses. He tensed against her, but she gripped his shoulders. All that mattered was that he shared more of those shattering sensations.
“Stop this indecent behavior at once!” her aunt shouted. They stopped and turned their attention to the veranda where a group of people rushed outside to see what caused the commotion.
It took Emma a moment to realize how bad the situation looked.
“Aunt Caroline, please hush,” Emma said urgently, and without effect. “You’ll have everyone in here to see what the fuss is about.”
“How could you? You wicked, wicked girl. How could you?” And a litany of similar complaints about her niece’s character and morals.
“Emma, how could you do this? How? Oh, I can’t even look at you!” Aunt Caroline sucked in a noisy breath. “And still you sit there, basking in your sin.”
“Aunt, there’s a perfectly innocent explanation—”
Emma's face was flushed, her dress was rumpled, she was ruined now for sure, there was no hiding what she had been doing with the Duke of Daventry.
Emma’s uncle turned his attention back to Emma and the gentleman standing next to her. “I trust your little tryst will lead to a wedding?”
Emma’s eyes grew wide. A wedding?
“I’d like to discuss your marriage to my niece,” her uncle said.
“Indeed,”Alexander replied.
“I suppose you’ll want an elaborate wedding.”
Emma's jaw dropped. An elaborate wedding? Up to five minutes ago, she wasn’t even engaged! Before she could respond, a cunning smile crossed the Duke of Daventry’s face.
“As luck would have it, I need to return to Langley Manor soon. I’m afraid there will be no time for such a wedding. We’ll have to make do with a private affair.”
Emma narrowed her eyes at him and removed her hand from his arm. “I don’t care. I don’t even want to marry you.”
“Emma, let’s not be rash,” her aunt argued.
“A private affair will be fine, Your Grace,” her uncle said, shooting her a pleading look to be amiable.
She glanced at her aunt and sister who were as happy as her uncle.
“When do you want the wedding to take place?” her uncle asked.
Alexander’s gaze returned to Emma.
“I see no reason to wait.”
Emma gritted her teeth as her stomach tensed up into a terrible knot.
“Is there really no other choice but marriage?” she asked.
“Judging by the way you and the Duke were acting, you must go through with it,” her sister said, shooting Emma a congratulatory wink. “From what I saw, you two were intimately entwined.”
“That’s enough, Sophie,” her uncle admonished. “We don’t need to go into details. The important thing is that we’ll get the matter resolved and there’s no harm done.”
“Yes, that seems to be of most importance,” Alexander added. “I suppose I should get a special license so we can get the wedding underway. I see no reason to delay the event.”
Her uncle laughed. “We’ll do everything we can to accommodate you, Your Grace.”
Alexander glanced at Emma. “Splendid.”
Emma blinked and then studied her family. Didn’t they see how opposed she was to this marriage?
“There’s no need to stay out here when we can discuss the details for the wedding inside,” the Duke told her uncle. Her uncle nodded and hurried to lead the group back inside.
As Alexander led her in silence from the garden, back to the melee inside the house, Emma’s head was thoroughly aching. And how was she going to extricate herself from their engagement?
“Are you alright?” Alexander looked down at her in concern, his face calm despite what had just happened.
“No,” Emma gave him an annoyed look. “How can you be so cool and collected after all that?”
“Well actually,” the Duke whispered in her ear as he led her into the ballroo. “I’m really rather pleased. I came here with the intention of making you my fiancée, and now you are.”
If the ballroom hadn’t been so crowded, and if the guests hadn’t been staring at the sight of Emma on the Duke of Daventry’s arm, she would have boxed him. As it was she smiled grimly as Alexander led her back to her aunt.
“I may be your fiancée, Your Grace
,” Emma said through gritted teeth. “But I am not yet your wife, and I have no intention of marrying you.”
“Yes, you will. I always get what I want Miss Buckland and that just happens to be you,” the Duke gave her a wicked smile.
Chapter Five
♠♠♠
Emma gripped the brush in her hands. The previous night had been a disaster. In a week, she was going to be the Duke’s wife, and God help her but she couldn’t think of a worse fate. Bessie, her maid, entered her small bedroom and offered her a smile.
“Would you like me to brush your hair this morning?” Emma shook her head and absentmindedly ran the brush through it. What did it matter how her hair looked? She’d already found a husband.
She never should have left the ballroom without her aunt. This was her fault.
“I think I should brush your hair,” Bessie told her in a soft voice.
Emma blinked in surprise, not realizing she’d stopped brushing her hair. With a sigh, she handed the brush to Bessie and stared off into the distance, not seeing anything in particular.
Bessie brushed her hair in gentle strokes, something that had a calming effect on her swirling emotions. Emma didn’t know how Bessie knew what she needed to feel better, but somehow, she did.
Someone gave a tap on her open door. Turning her gaze in the direction of the sound, Emma wasn’t sure if she was happy or not to see her sister.
For the moment, she greeted her, and Sophie returned the greeting before sitting on her bed to wait in silence while Bessie finished fixing her hair.
After Bessie left the room, Emma faced her sister. Sophie grinned.
“I can’t believe your fortune. Imagine snatching a duke so soon!”
Emma groaned. “It won’t be a happy marriage.”
“Sure, it will. You shouldn’t be so glum. Just think of how big your new house will be. Think of all the nice clothes and jewelry you can have. Think of all the servants who’ll do your bidding. Think of all the places you can go for entertainment. Besides, he has money. You’ll be wealthy for the rest of your life.”