6. Chapter 6
Emma fussed with her hair, pushing a clip in to secure wayward strands.
Her hair was straight as a pin, and little wisps were always escaping the confines of her neat bun.
Maybe she should hire a lady’s maid to help Lucy and her with the more elaborate coiffures that would be needed for the balls this season.
She frowned at her reflection. If she didn’t pay off the last payment on the mortgage for Hertford Manor, she could manage it.
Hertford would still be a neglected, rundown manor in January.
Soon enough for her to own it outright. It was just one of the many properties that her father had mortgaged to the hilt.
The bank had taken most of them. But the manor house was her own modest dream, a place of her own out in the countryside where she could breathe fresh air and plant a garden.
She hoped to be able to bring the children out there for the summer next year.
Remove them from the stench of summer in the city.
Lucy popped her head around the door. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Lucy came into the room. “How do I look?” She turned to show off her light blue dress with a dark blue striped spencer jacket. “Respectable enough to meet a duchess?”
“Definitely. You look lovely. How about me?” Emma had donned a dove-gray dress with a yellow jacket trimmed in gray velvet.
“You look very fetching in yellow, Emma.”
“All right then, let’s get going. We should be able to walk there without too much trouble. It’s not far.”
At the duke’s house, they were greeted at the door by a butler and shown to a bright, airy morning room.
Lady Caroline breezed into the room, followed by an older version of herself.
Tall and willowy, the duchess exuded elegance.
Sharp gray eyes were framed by dark eyebrows and high cheekbones.
A serene smile stretched across her face as her daughter rushed forward to greet them.
“Hello! I am so glad you could come. Mother, may I present to you Miss Whittingham and her sister Miss Lucy Whittingham. This is my mother, the Duchess of Gilchrest.”
Emma and Lucy both curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Emma managed, a bit in awe.
“Please sit down. We have tea ordered. So, Caroline tells me this is your first season, Miss Lucy, and that your parents are both deceased. Who was your father, Miss Whittingham?” the duchess asked politely.
“Our father was Viscount Newton. He died four years ago after a long illness of the lungs.” The well-practiced lie rolled off her tongue easily.
“Our brother Maximillian, his heir, has only just turned six. I am raising all of them, with Lucy’s help, of course.
” Emma took a sip of her tea. She hoped that would put their curiosity to rest.
“All of them?” the duchess inquired.
“I have five siblings: Lucy, Margaret, Abigail, Max, and his twin brother, William. We have quite the full house and sometimes a wild one, as Lady Caroline can attest to.”
Lady Caroline smiled. “They also have a pack of lovely exuberant dogs.”
Emma’s cheeks heated. “Each child has their own dog, a gift from our uncle, plus mine. He thought it a fantastic present for the children. Although he does not live with us, so he doesn’t understand what chaos can ensue with six dogs in the house.”
“Oh dear.” The duchess’s eyes widened. “Miss Whittingham, I do admire you for managing such a large household at such a young age.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I do wish I could whistle like the duke can. That piercing whistle always manages to command the dogs’ attention, the children too, for that matter. I quite admire the way everyone stops and pays attention to him.”
Lady Caroline and her mother exchanged a look. Before Emma could deduce what it meant, Lady Caroline turned to Lucy. “Are you excited for Lady Lansdowne’s ball on Saturday evening? You did say you were going, didn’t you?”
In fact, they had received an invitation to the ball just yesterday, quite out of the blue. Emma had her suspicions as to who had arranged for them to be invited.
“Yes, we are. I’m feeling rather nervous though,” Lucy said.
“Don’t be. I will be happy to introduce you to the right people. In fact, after I met you the other day, Mother and I discussed your situation. Because you don’t have your parents to watch out for you, Mother would be more than happy to sponsor you this season.”
Emma and Lucy both gasped in response. Lucy recovered her voice first. “Thank you, Your Grace! I am honored to have your support.”
“You’re welcome. Caroline has taken a liking to you both, and she has excellent judgment,” the duchess said.
There was a loud crash from the hall. “Blast it all!” a feminine voice rang out. A deep voice followed. “All right, my love?”
Lady Caroline grabbed her mother’s hand. “The lovebirds are back! Excuse me, please.” She jumped up and hurried out of the room.
“My apologies for Caroline’s abrupt behavior.” The duchess wore an indulgent smile. “Her brother was recently married to her best friend. The two have been on their honeymoon, and it seems they have just returned. They are two of her favorite people in the world.”
“Perhaps we should go then,” Emma said.
“No, please stay. We can all have tea together. You will enjoy meeting Vivian. She is of an age with you. Why don’t you both go out onto the terrace and enjoy this unusually fine fall weather?
Head through those doors, and we will meet you outside shortly.
” The duchess rose and swept out of the room.
Emma and Lucy, following the duchess’ orders, exited through the French doors to the terrace beyond.
The gardens were exquisite and laid out in a formal style, with low hedges in neat squares surrounding garden beds of roses.
Large oak trees stood guard toward the bottom, along the tall wall, which separated the property from the lane beyond.
To the left of the rose gardens was a small orchard of fruit trees, and to the right, a lovely pond gleamed in the sun.
You could almost forget you were in the city, looking out at the extensive grounds of the ducal mansion.
Lucy let out a small cry of dismay. Emma turned from the view. “What’s happened?”
“Oh dear, look. I’ve brushed up against that gooseberry bush there and gotten something all on my skirt. I will have to go in and see if I can find a servant. Perhaps if I can brush it off immediately, it won’t stain.”
“All right, see if you can fix it. I will wait out here for the others.”
After fifteen minutes of waiting, Emma became restless.
She stepped down the low, flat stairs of the terrace to wander around the gardens.
As she strolled, she admired the many shades of pink chrysanthemums. A loud thwacking sound interrupted the quiet afternoon.
Her curiosity piqued, she followed the intermittent thwacks into the orchard.
Dappled sunlight fell through the bare branches, creating patterns of light on the grass floor.
Not too far in stood a shed with a thatch roof and a rough-hewn bench in front.
Thwack. She turned toward the sound. On the other side of the shed, amidst a pile of logs, stood the duke.
Shirtless, facing away from her, the duke raised an axe overhead and, with one smooth motion, split a log neatly down the middle.
Emma stopped short. Her mouth fell open.
With each chop of his ax, the muscles in his back flexed and bunched.
His broad shoulders gleamed with sweat, and the hair at his nape was damp with it as well.
His breeches fit him like a second skin and gave her an excellent view of his tight buttocks.
Warmth spread through her as she remembered how the muscles in his arms had felt smooth and hard under her hands last night.
He turned to reach for another log and spied her.
Emma flushed, embarrassed to be caught ogling him. “Oh, pardon me, Your Grace.” She took a step back, her hand fluttering at her throat. “I was just walking through the gardens, and I could not identify the strange sound coming from this direction.”
The duke walked over to the bench, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it over his head.
She should turn and walk away. But her mouth wouldn’t listen to her brain, and she continued her effort to explain.
“Lucy and I are visiting with your mother and sister. We were interrupted by your brother and sister-in-law arriving, and your mother sent us out to the terrace to enjoy the nice day, but Lucy got something on her skirt and had to go back into the house to clean it, and…” She petered off.
Oh dear, this situation was so inappropriate.
“Well, has your curiosity been satisfied?” One eyebrow rose as he casually tucked his shirt back into place. He reached for his waistcoat next.
Indeed, it had. She knew she should go back to the terrace, but again her mouth had its own ideas. “May I ask why you are out here chopping wood? Don’t you have someone to do that for you?”
“It is restorative,” he replied.
Restorative? Chopping wood?
“It was my brother’s idea.” He ran a hand through his hair as though attempting to fix it into some semblance of order.
“After my wife died, I was drowning myself in drink. My brother helped me to sober up before it could become a permanent bad habit. It was he who suggested I use physical exercise to work out my emotions. Riding my horse, swimming, long walks, chopping wood.” He gestured to the axe.
“There aren’t many places to brood outdoors in London.
Which is why I am hiding out here in the orchard. ”
Her eyes widened. She was stunned by the personal information he had just confided to her. Brooding outside in the fresh air was something they had in common. “I’m sorry I intruded into your solitude.”
One side of his mouth tipped up in a self-deprecating smile. “Sometimes I need to be interrupted. Too much brooding isn’t good.”
Emma sat down on the bench while he slipped on his jacket.
“I admire your efforts to keep from drinking in excess. It is something my own father was never able to accomplish. His drunkenness had a profound effect on our family.” She stared out into the trees blindly as memories of her father washed over her. “It’s what led to his death, in fact.”
The duke settled next to her. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know my own children were the driving force which helped pull me out from my misery. I did not want to let them down.”
“If only that had been true for my father. Although alcohol had been ruling his life for years, my mother’s death dragged my father deeper into his downward spiral. He didn’t even see us anymore.”
They sat on the bench for a few minutes in silence.
Her hands, clasped tightly together, were covered by one of his larger ones.
He rubbed a circle with his thumb along the back of one until her fingers relaxed their vise grip on each other.
His quiet understanding filled the space between them.
Unsettled, she said, “I should get back.”
He stood. “May I walk you back?” He offered his arm, and they headed out of the orchard. “So the lovebirds have returned.”
“That’s just what your sister said.”
“Yes, well, it is heartening to know people do marry for love occasionally. Caroline and I are pleased to see them happy, but they are rather disgustingly sweet with each other.”
They arrived back on the terrace just as the rest of his family came out through the doors with Lucy in tow.
“Andrew! Look who has returned from their honeymoon,” Caroline exclaimed.
Tea was served, and Emma enjoyed meeting Lord and Lady Langdon.
Vivian, as she had insisted they call her, was a vibrant lady, short in stature but large in personality.
Her husband, Lord Langdon, was reserved and quiet.
He was tall and broad-shouldered like the duke, and he had the same long, straight nose and square jaw as his brother.
But he had gray eyes instead of the duke’s intense blue.
He held his wife’s hand in his while they all conversed.
Although the company was entertaining, Emma couldn’t help feeling self-conscious about her conversation with the duke.
After her foolish behavior last night, she had firmly told herself to avoid the man.
Now, not even twenty-four hours later, she’d sat alone with him, revealing family secrets.
This wouldn’t do at all. As soon as it was polite, she thanked her hosts, and she and Lucy took their leave.