Chapter 15
Emmeline sneaked to breakfast the next morning as if she were a criminal.
The duke, the duchess, and Louisa were already in the breakfast parlor, but none reacted beyond the usual greetings when Emmeline assumed her seat at the table.
The duchess was pouting in her usual manner, Louisa’s face was hidden by a newspaper, and the duke gave her his usual kind smile.
Perhaps he hadn’t discovered the pendant was missing yet.
Or perhaps he knew very well it was no longer in its usual place, because he’d hidden it himself so that she couldn’t get it.
“Are you all right, dear?” the duke asked. “You’re unusually pensive.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” She lowered her gaze to the table.
“There are new protests against the Corn Laws.” Louisa peeked over the newspaper. “Mama, can we go to Plymouth?”
“Whatever for? If you need more dresses, you can get them in Redbridge.”
“Bonaparte is there, on a boat.”
“And they must report about it in a newspaper?”
“Well, they did, yesterday. I’ll fetch you the article if you want to see—”
The duchess put a hand to her chest. “Certainly not.”
“Oh, please, Mama. Everyone will go see him. And we don’t know what they’ll do with him afterward!”
“Not parade him in front of curious tourists, I hope,” the duke murmured.
The duchess sighed at Louisa. “What have I told you about reading the newspaper at breakfast?”
“But I asked Papa, and he allowed me. Didn’t you, Papa?”
“Yes, dear,” It was unclear to which of his two family members the duke was speaking.
“Do put it down, Louisa. Discussions such as this only ruin the mood,” the duchess said.
“What discussions? You didn’t comment on anything except the unsuitability of me reading the newspaper.”
“Louisa!”
Louisa blew out a loud breath and deposited the paper on the table. “I suppose that’s a no to Plymouth, then.”
“Perhaps you need to find your daughter a husband, Madam,” the duke said. “Then she will no longer bother you with ‘such discussions.’”
Louisa sighed and slumped her shoulders, looking at her mother. “See what you did now?”
Emmeline cleared her throat. “Uhm, there is a matter we should discuss at your earliest convenience …”
“Earliest convenience is now.” Louisa winked at her and mouthed a “Thank you.”
“What is it, dear?” the duchess asked.
“Regarding my departure …”
“Ah, yes. You will be leaving us in a few days.”
“Yes, that.” In her sudden nervousness, Emmeline scrunched up a napkin. “I’ve received word from my family that they’d fallen ill. Nothing serious, but they advise me to stay for a tad longer, to not catch the illness myself …”
“Oh, dear. I do hope they recover soon,” the duchess said, the worry in her voice not overcoming her standard politeness. “You may stay as long as you need.”
Daniel strode into the room, whistling. “Good morning.” He sat down, rubbing his hands as he examined the breakfast offerings of buttered toast, poached and fried eggs, and an assortment of jams.
“My, someone is cheerful today,” Louisa said.
Emmeline’s cheeks grew warm. Was his good mood due to the kiss? It had been different—much, much different from the first kiss he’d given her. That one wasn’t bad, per se, but it couldn’t compare to last night. Just thinking about it made her insides flutter and blood rush to her face.
“Perhaps it’s a good day,” Daniel said. He met Emmeline’s gaze and gave her a light smile.
Of course, he had to pretend last night didn’t happen. They were already walking the line of propriety while they resided under the same roof—even if Emmeline was only visiting, and they were never left alone together.
If someone found out about the kiss last night … well, it would be absolutely scandalous.
“What were we talking about?” Daniel asked.
“Miss Grey will be staying with us for a little while longer. Her family is indisposed,” the duchess said.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Daniel said. “But I’m certain nobody will mind an extended visit.”
Louisa beamed at her, as if she couldn’t wait to plan more activities.
“How long do you plan to stay?” Daniel asked.
“I—uh—I don’t know.” A small voice reminded her she was just delaying the inevitable, but it was very small, indeed—easily overpowered by more pleasant thoughts. Exploring more of the castle ruins, finding Lady Scarlet, figuring out what the duke was up to—and maybe getting another stolen kiss.
She’d still have to write a letter to Maria’s family, though, and tell them she was offered to stay longer. Maybe pretend she was one of the family members, writing it, since the Greys would see the writing wasn’t Maria’s.
“Say, Mother.” Daniel leaned his elbow on the table, stroking his chin. “Why don’t we move the wedding up while she’s here?”
Louisa spit out the tea she’d been drinking. The duchess dropped her fork.
“What is the minimum time you need for the banns—three weeks to call them? That means we could get married at the end of August.” Daniel’s tone was as casual as if they were scheduling a horse riding competition.
The duchess finally came to her senses. “But that would put your wedding outside the season!”
“Exactly. I don’t want it during the season. Let’s do it and be done with it.” He looked at Emmeline. “Forgive my insensitive wording.”
“Of course,” she whispered.
Did he like the kiss so much he wanted to marry her as soon as possible?
Her stomach churned, but she couldn’t quite discern that extra emotion, besides nervousness. Until now, the wedding had been something intangible, far removed from her reality. She hadn’t considered it could happen.
But if it would, would it be such an awful outcome? Daniel wasn’t as bad as he’d appeared at first, and he was so handsome, and that kiss …
“But my wedding at St. George’s,” the duchess said with a shaky lip.
“No, Mother, my wedding.”
“Well, I’m all for it!” Louisa gave Emmeline a wide smile. “We’re going to be sisters even sooner! Oh, we should go shopping.” She rose from the table and danced around Emmeline’s chair. “Come. We must get you dresses and jewelry and everything you’ll need!” She turned to the duchess. “Could we—”
“You’re not going to Plymouth.”
Louisa pouted, but cheered back up. “I’d invite you, Brother, but this is strictly female business.”
“I regret to inform you I planned to go riding, anyway,” Daniel said.
“Oh, boo. You’re no fun.”
The duchess let out a sound similar to a boiling teapot.
“And you’ve broken Mama,” Louisa said.
“Finally. Thank you, my son. I knew you’d come in useful one day,” the duke said.
Louisa giggled and dragged Emmeline out of the chair. “We must not lose a minute. We’ll take you to the best seamstress in Redbridge. She’ll throw a fit when she finds out she only has a month to work on a gown, but you’ll see, we’ll convince her …”
The shopping trip took hours, even though all that was accomplished by the end was the assurance of the service of Mrs. Lemmont, the finest seamstress in town, and the narrowing down of the wedding gown fabric to three candidates—a pale pink satin, a cream muslin as soft as a cloud, and a silvery white taffeta.
And they didn’t even get to the embellishments yet—lace, embroidery, perhaps a lamé net?
Only when they returned home, and Louisa retired to her room—purely because she’d worked her voice down to a whisper at this point—did Emmeline remember she was supposed to talk with Theo regarding their plans.
And she hadn’t made any plans.
She found him in the stables, whispering something to a fine-looking black stallion.
“Emmeline,” Theo greeted, his eyes lighting up.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Well, we didn’t specify a time.”
“I’ve been busy. Louisa and I went to town. The wedding is getting moved up, so we have many things to plan.”
She could’ve sworn Theo’s face fell, but when she blinked, it was back to normal.
“The wedding,” he said.
“Mine and Daniel’s. It’s to be at the end of August. But don’t worry! I still have our plan in mind. I’ll figure out how to get back to Lady Scarlet. The others will take care of the wedding stuff. There won’t be that much to plan, anyway.”
Theo gave her a restrained smile.
“Miss Grey?” A footman appeared at the entrance. “Her Grace requires your presence in the drawing room.”
Emmeline nodded to him, then turned to Theo. “I’ll be back when I have it planned out!”
The next two weeks passed in a whirlwind of activities and felt like a fever dream.
Emmeline could’ve never imagined a wedding needed so much planning, but the duchess’s list of items never ran out.
Emmeline suspected it was out of spite, since Daniel had told her to keep it simple.
Meanwhile, it had turned out the times had not yet caught up with Emmeline’s fanciful ideas of a wedding.
Sending out invitations was simply not a thing, and out-of-town relatives were not expected to attend—which, while sad in any other case, spared her the problem of Maria’s parents finding out about the change of plans.
It also explained why the duchess kept crying over her lost Hanover Square location. Instead of the haut ton of London, she’d get the two local genteel families as her attendants to the weddings.
Under her limitations, the duchess did the best she could.
Planned a grand dinner feast afterward; fussed over food selection and tablecloths and flowers and ribbons, and how those should match Emmeline’s dress; convinced the duke to purchase a brand new curricle, so the newly married couple could drive from the church in it.
And as if there wasn’t enough hubbub in the house yet, one day Emmeline found the duchess and the duke arguing in the drawing room.
“Because in that case, we need to vet the servants,” the duchess got out before they noticed Emmeline, and hushed.
“Is anything the matter?” Emmeline asked.
“Nothing for you to worry about, dear,” the duke said, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“But we might have a thief!” the duchess protested.