Chapter 15 #2
“I’m sure the necklace simply fell on the floor behind some bookshelf when the study was last being cleaned,” the duke said to his wife. “And we’ll discover it months from now while looking for something else entirely.”
So the duchess had discovered the pendant had been stolen. With the duke trying to brush off the event, did that mean he was behind it?
“Besides, it was hardly worth anything,” he said.
“What was?” Emmeline asked, only to make sure.
“An old thing of mine has gone missing,” the duke said. “I’m certain it’s merely lying in some dusty corner.” But even as he conjured a reassuring smile, his eyes glimmered ever so slightly in worry.
When she wasn’t otherwise occupied, Emmeline tried to repeat the events of the day at the castle ruins, sans fall, to open another passage to the castle.
Two or three times, she might have seen the familiar shimmering, but it dissipated before she reacted.
High emotions could’ve activated it, but perhaps prolonged, overwhelming emotions also suppressed it.
The nerves about the wedding might be too much.
But how could she get rid of those nerves, when each day passed was a day closer to the wedding?
Daniel didn’t seek out another kiss, although he’d invited her for a couple of walks, during which they’d chatted and even cracked a few jokes.
Finally realizing she might have to make the first step, Emmeline used an opportunity on one of those walks, when their chaperones—Louisa’s maid and Theo—lost sight of them for a second, rounding a dune on the beach. She leaned in.
Daniel drew back a few inches. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.”
“I thought you mis-stepped.” He checked the ground, as if he wanted to reassure himself of her balance.
Emmeline grunted inwardly. “Maybe we could…” Flutter your eyelashes. Women always fluttered they eyelashes when flirting, didn’t they? “Repeat that night in the study.”
“What?” Daniel looked genuinely confused, and moved another step away. He glanced behind them.
Louisa’s maid and Theo rounded the bend.
The heat rising in Emmeline’s cheeks battled even that of the summer sun.
Oh, if she could sink into the ground right now.
But as she and Daniel moved on, and she glanced back, to Theo’s stormy expression, and the more neutral one of the maid, she wondered what made her feel more awkward—her awful attempt, or Theo witnessing it.
One evening, Emmeline and Louisa descended to dinner together, only to discover a stranger in the dining room.
The man—in his mid-twenties, perhaps—had dark red hair, cut slightly shorter than fashionable.
His impeccable black-and-white ensemble and his seat next to the duchess’s end of the table denoted a position of importance.
“There you are,” the duchess said, primarily toward Louisa. “You’re late. We had to sit down without you.”
“Something, something, fashionable,” Louisa said, and she and Emmeline sat down.
“I believe the saying is ‘fashionably late,’” the man said in a light tone.
“Clearly, I know the saying. It’s called humor,” Louisa responded.
The duchess cleared her throat. “May I introduce Mr. Wexley, our new neighbor.”
Mr. Wexley’s eyes gleamed in amusement. “On the other side of the town.”
“My youngest daughter, Louisa, and my soon to be daughter-in-law, Miss Grey.”
Emmeline nodded at the visitor. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, holding the same amusement, then skipped to Louisa.
“Mr. Vexley,” Louisa said.
“That’s a ‘W,’” he corrected with a smile.
“Do you hunt, Mr. Wexley?” the duke said from the foot of the table.
“Doesn’t everyone? I’m rather certain there’s a statute on it.”
The duke chuckled. “If you wish to use the grounds, please do. I’m sure Daniel will not mind the competition.”
Daniel only nodded.
“Does that statute come before or after the one telling men to shoot guns at the sky like idiots?” Louisa said.
The duchess tried to cover a gasp.
“I believe it’s after the one prohibiting duels, hence why we are forced to descend to such measures,” Mr. Wexley responded.
“That is a shame. I think duels are the best part of politics.”
“Oh?” Mr. Wexley raised his eyebrows. “Name your favorite one.”
“Canning versus Castlereagh, easily.”
“Hmm. I’m disappointed. Canning didn’t even know how to shoot. Personally, I’d go for Hamilton versus Burr. Funny, what a dinner conversation can cause.”
“Soup!” the duchess said, much too loudly, and gestured to a servant.
Mr. Wexley gave Louisa one last smile and looked at his hostess. “I must thank you for inviting me, Your Grace. Dinners at home have been rather dull lately.”
“Are you new to the area?” Emmeline asked. His face seemed familiar but in a strange, un-pinpointable way.
“Quite so. I moved in only a few days ago. My family is from the north.”
Maybe she’d seen him in town. Or maybe he had one of those faces.
“It’s good to have fresh blood around,” the duke said.
“Is that an invitation to a duel, Your Grace?”
“I hope not.” The duke laughed. “I’m much too old for it.”
His eyes met his wife’s for a second. The duchess paled, crimping her lips.
Emmeline wasn’t sure what the exact year of Lady Scarlet’s adventure was—when the castle burned down. Had the duke already been married at that point? Did his wife know about his antics?
The dinner went on; between courses, Louisa and Mr. Wexley continued to spar, the duchess continued to look like she wished to cease existing, and Emmeline caught one glance from Daniel, which she supposed was good enough.
At least he smiled, so he must have not thought the worst of her for what happened at the beach.
“Thank you for the wonderful meal and entertainment.” Mr. Wexley shook the duke’s hand as they said their goodbyes in the foyer.
“Come by anytime,” the duke said. “I’ve a daughter to be taken off my hands, too.”
Next to Emmeline, Louisa groaned. She looped her arm around Emmeline’s as they made their way upstairs. “Mr. Wexley, more like Mr. Vex-Me,” she murmured.
“He’s not so bad,” Emmeline said.
“That’s easy for you to say. Your life is perfect, and you don’t have to worry about a thing. You’re marrying my brother in two weeks!” Louisa tilted her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off rude. I can’t wait for it! But … oh, he’s so annoying!”
“Daniel?”
“Mr. Vex-Me. Did you hear him talk?”
“I have,” Emmeline said with a grin. Honestly, it was like Louisa talking to her reflection.
“If I happened to go on a hunt, and a gun went off …” Louisa mused.
“But what about the statute?”
Louisa playfully smacked her on the hand, and Emmeline laughed.
“And then Papa.” Louisa shook his head in disappointment. “As if I’d ever marry a man whose favorite duel is Hamilton versus Burr!” She waved her hand and, still muttering, left for her room.
As Emmeline entered hers, she noticed a neatly sealed letter left for her, its crumpled edges indicating it had traveled quite the distance. She unfolded it while she pulled the pins out of her hair and sat down.
Daughter,
I will assume your impersonal, curt response is due to the quarrel we had before you left …
Emmeline’s heart jumped into her throat, letting out a pang of homesickness that almost made her cry out, until she realized the writing wasn’t that of her father.
The signature at the end of the brief letter confirmed it—it was Lord Grey.
The letter she’d sent about her delayed stay must’ve reached him by now.
But in time, you’ll realize my choice was for the best. A match with Marquis Farenham will strengthen our position and save you the arduous task of having to find a husband yourself …
As Emmeline’s fingers shook, she chucked the letter onto her bed.
So, Maria was no happier about the match than Daniel has been.
She was right. Maria had been intending to run away that day.
Perhaps she’d even lied about her illness to give herself time to escape.
And she’d almost done it, until Emmeline accidentally made her escape into another time.
Yes, she’d been pretending she was Maria Grey, but in a way, she’d also been covering for her.
The homesickness burned inside, leaving behind a simmering feeling of indignation at the words in the letter. Once she got a grip on her powers and returned home, Emmeline could be back on the Titanic mere minutes after she’d left, and her parents would be none the wiser.
And they would still treat her the same.
Would they do something similar to what Viscount Grey did, once they returned to New York? Find a suitor for her that fit their ideas, to save her from her “awful decisions”?
Would they ever understand her?
She clenched her fists in her lap, crinkling her fine evening gown.
Louisa’s words echoed in her head. Your life is perfect.
But the said life was a conglomerate of two—her own, and Maria’s.
Daniel only knew her, not Maria. Louisa thought of her as a sister, not Maria.
If Maria had escaped, Daniel and Louisa would’ve never met her, anyway.
Emmeline dropped her face into the pillow. What had she done—taken over another woman’s life, or over a vacancy? What would happen when she got Maria back? Emmeline would pay the price, of course. One that was too terrifying to think about.
And Maria would have to face the destiny she didn’t want, unless she ran away again.
But how could Emmeline break the deception now? How could she tell them she’d accidentally fallen into impersonating a woman who didn’t want to be here?
Perhaps the wedding wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d still find Maria and bring her back, and maybe they could reach an accord. Because as stolen as they were, bits of this life were worth fighting for. If Emmeline married Daniel, her parents would have to accept that.
She turned over to her back and gazed at the curtains decorating her bed, blueish-green in the shadows of the ceiling.
In the end, only one thing was certain. If this was the life she’d stumbled into, she would make her own choices in it. Nobody else.
Now she only needed to figure out if the wedding was the right choice.