Chapter 10 #2
“Of course you didn’t.” He managed the tiniest smile, meant only for her reassurance. “It’s all right. I don’t remember her, and therefore I can’t miss her.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, though.
“Your father must’ve been heartbroken.”
“He died before I was born.”
How did she manage to dig herself even deeper? “I—”
“You don’t need to apologize for that, either.”
She sighed. At least her family was alive and well. She might enjoy her time without her parents’ supervision, but growing up without them would have been awful. Theo had his aunt and uncle back in France, but he couldn’t even return there.
“Do you have any family here?” she asked.
For a few seconds, it looked like he was fighting an inner battle, pulling a few different versions of a frown. “No.”
“Don’t worry.” She smiled and put a hand on his. “I’ll be your friend. And unless you specifically want me to, I won’t leave you.”
He twitched, and she thought he’d pull his hand away, but it stayed. And then he smiled.
“All right,” he said.
When they got back to Lennemere, Emmeline sought the duke out in his study. He inspected the address on the letter. “Haverston, huh?”
“Family friend.” She smiled, hoping that would cover up her nervousness.
“Hmm.” The duke scratched his neck, revealing an inch-long scar—barely visible, long since healed. “I knew the old viscount, but I don’t believe I’ve met the son. Regardless, we can sort out the letter.”
As he sat behind his heavy, carved writing table to frank the letter, Emmeline glanced around the study.
Neatly organized, like the library: a stack of books on the shelves, a globe, a decanter and a few glasses.
Clearly, this was the duke’s sanctuary, so Emmeline didn’t want to snoop, but before she turned back to him, a subtle flash of light caught her eye.
It came from a silver chain holding an unusual pendant—tear-shaped, in a midnight-blue material speckled with tiny silver dots.
It was laid out in a velvet box on a shelf near her, and she couldn’t help but draw closer, as if the pendant itself was inviting her.
It wasn’t a gem; it was opaque and perfectly smooth, like a finely polished metal or mineral.
And with those silver specks, it looked like stardust.
Or a condensed starry night.
She shook her head. She’d been reading too much.
“Here you go, dear.” The duke offered her the letter. “Have you finished the book yet?”
“Not yet. But it’s amazing. So dramatic! I just got to the fire in the castle.”
“I shall not spoil it for you, then.”
She smiled. “Did you ever consider—” No, hold on.
She wasn’t about to ask the duke if he thought the ideas presented in that book were real.
He’d think her silly. “Thank you,” she said instead, waved with the letter, and left the study, lingering on the mysterious smile the duke gave her as a goodbye.
The flames licked the edges of Lady Scarlet’s petticoats as she rushed through the smoky castle hallways.
Edmund had gotten separated from her—gone after De Villiers, so he could hold that foul knave back while Scarlet made her escape.
They’d meet again, though, on the balcony, like he promised, and then they would—
Scream.
Emmeline shook her head, and shook herself out of the book. That shriek had been real; despite her deep immersion in the story, she was rather certain she hadn’t made the noise up.
There it was, again—along with rapid steps somewhere down the hallway. Emmeline left the book spread open on the bed and hurried after the commotion, pausing at the top of the grand staircase. Below, in the foyer, Louisa hugged a man, jumping and shouting.
“You’re here! You didn’t tell us you were coming!” She screamed again. “You’re here!”
“Louisa, you’re making me deaf,” the man said.
“But you didn’t tell us—”
He gently pried her away from him. “Yes, I know.”
Curious, Emmeline descended the stairs but didn’t alert them of her presence.
The man was young; mid-twenties, perhaps, and to call him anything other than classically handsome would be a disservice to all the Greek statues she’d seen in museums over the years.
His golden blond hair was swept off his face in perfect curls.
The deep sapphire shade of his coat brought out his blue eyes, as clear as the summer sky.
He held his chin high, although that might’ve been the fault of the starched collar of his blindingly white shirt, finished with a complicated cravat knot under his throat.
Emmeline must’ve accidentally let out some sort of noise—she wouldn’t be surprised if it was a sigh—because Louisa and Prince Charming suddenly whipped their heads in her direction.
“Maria!” Louisa jumped on the spot. “Ohh, this is so exciting, I might just faint.”
“Please don’t,” Prince Charming responded with a slight trace of amusement.
Louisa laid a hand on his shoulder, then looked back at Emmeline. “Maria, this is Daniel.”
She’d heard that name before, but with so many characters from books swimming in her head, Emmeline needed a moment to recall. Debrett’s Peerage. Daniel Ascombe, Marquis Farenham, oldest son and heir of Duke of Redbridge.
Her fiancé.