31. Chapter 31
Three days later, Emma woke to bright morning sunlight streaming through the open curtains and found herself alone in bed. Strangely bereft, she rubbed at her eyes and peered across the room. Even Fergus was missing from his pile of blankets in the corner.
The past few days had been idyllic. Andrew had, true to his word, not mentioned marriage again.
Emma was relieved but a little suspicious.
Since he was not the kind of man to give up on something he set his sights on, she sensed a strategic retreat.
Regardless, she had decided to enjoy her remaining time with the duke.
The delicious aroma of chocolate had her sitting up.
A cup of the hot beverage sat on the bedside table along with the slightly worse-for-wear long-stemmed rose from three nights ago.
She smiled as she took a sip from the warm mug.
These past few weeks had been beautiful, a memory she would cherish for the rest of her life.
Today, however, was the day she must go home and face her future.
A future which could not include the duke, for his own good.
She rose and moved across the room to the desk.
Opening the drawer, she pulled out the letter from Uncle Charles.
Reading through it again strengthened her resolve.
Charles was never going to let her quit.
If she tried, the scandal of her secret life would ruin the lives of all the people she loved.
Emma folded the letter. She glanced around and spotted a small stack of books she had selected from the library to bring along in the carriage. She slid the letter into the pages of one of the books for safekeeping, then turned to get ready for her day.
An hour later, Emma emerged from her room, dressed for travelling.
Her small trunk was packed, thanks to help from one of the maids.
She went in search of Fergus and Andrew.
She found both the dog and the man outside in the garden, playing with a ball.
Andrew grinned when he spotted her, his hair windblown and his cheeks pink from the cold.
“Look how high he can jump.” He threw the ball high and long.
Fergus ran at full speed and launched himself into the air with a great leap, neatly catching the ball in his mouth.
“See? Fantastic, Fergus! Good boy.” Andrew ruffled the hair on the dog’s head when Fergus deposited the ball back at his feet.
“I see you have been making friends at last.” Fergus, the traitor, stared adoringly up at Andrew.
“He’s not so bad when he is not knocking me down or drooling on me. I thought he could use some exercise before being stuck in the carriage.” Andrew shrugged his shoulders. “Are you ready to travel? I hope the carriage ride won’t be too bumpy for your shoulder and arm.”
“Yes, I am ready. I even have reading material for the trip.” Emma lifted the stack of books she carried.
Fergus finally noticed she was there, and he came bounding over to greet her.
He jumped up and put his front paws up on her chest, giving her a lick on her face and jarring her enough that she stumbled backward, dropping all her books.
Andrew came over to help her gather everything from the ground.
“I hope they didn’t get too wet,” Emma said. “Fergus, bad dog. How many times must I say you are too big to be jumping up?”
“What’s this? A letter from your uncle?”
Emma’s head shot up. “Uh, yes, he was concerned about me after Lucy told him what happened,” Emma lied. The letter hadn’t expressed concern about her health at all, only concerns about how she had botched the job.
Andrew frowned as he looked at the letter in his hand. “He wasn’t supposed to contact you anymore,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” Emma snatched the letter back. “What do you mean?”
Andrew shifted his eyes left, watching the dog bound across the snow-covered lawn. He exhaled loudly, his breath a stream of white in the cold air. Then he met her gaze again.
“I met with him. I asked him to exit your life.” Andrew crossed his arms in front of his chest. “He has been a poor influence.”
Emma couldn’t believe her ears. The audacity. “Ordered him, more likely. When exactly did you speak with him?”
“After you ran from me that night at Gilchrest House. You were so sad, so resigned. I did some digging into his past. He is not a good person. I don’t think you should be corresponding with him in the future.”
“He is my uncle, and he helped me and the children when we needed someone most. I cannot just cut him out of my life.” Her usual justification felt bitter on her tongue.
“Emma, if you want to make a fresh start, you will have to stop listening to him. Can’t you see he has been using you?”
“Stop telling me what to do, you overbearing, infuriating man!”
“Don’t be so obstinate. I am not telling you what to do. I am just trying to offer my advice.”
She backed away from his calm logic. “You do not get to tell me whom I can and cannot associate with, Your Grace. We return to London today, and I will be making the decisions in my life once again. I take care of what’s mine.” She pointed at her chest. “I make my own choices.”
“I can’t keep having this same argument with you.” Andrew tugged a hand through his hair. His eyes snapped with barely controlled temper. He paced away from her, his movements jerky.
This is your opportunity. Finish it. Her chest tightened as her heart protested what she must do.
“I have tried to earn your trust.” He swung back to face her. “How many times are you going to push me away? To refuse my help?”
“I don’t know. How many times is this time?” Emma narrowed her eyes to glare at him.
Andrew froze. His jaw clenched, and then he gave a mocking nod of his head. Turning on his heel, he strode away.
Emma swallowed a large gulp of cold air.
She had accomplished what she wanted. She’d made him angry enough to walk away.
But she had been unprepared how much it would hurt to be the cause of the pain she had seen flash across his face.
She closed her eyes and took another steadying breath.
It is for the best. Then she called for Fergus and slowly walked back into the house.
The ride back to London was a lonely one. Andrew had decided to ride back on his horse, leaving the carriage to Emma and Fergus. It was for the best, she repeated to herself as she tried to concentrate on the book she had brought. She must use her head, not her heart, to make decisions.
When she arrived home, her family greeted her with enthusiasm and cheerful chatter about all she had missed. Lucy gave her a warm hug, but then she took hold of her hands, giving Emma a stern look.
“We need to talk. There are things to say.”
“I know, but not tonight. I am truly worn out from travelling. Can we speak in the morning?” Emma could not face any more recriminations today. She was still too raw from her argument with Andrew.
Lucy squeezed her hands. “Certainly. We can talk tomorrow.”
After having supper together, she tucked all the children into bed with extra kisses before finally slipping between the sheets of her own bed. Exhausted from the day, she fell asleep immediately after her head hit the pillow.
The next morning, she spent time with the children, discussing their studies and listening to stories about all that had happened while she had been gone.
She was stalling, but she wasn’t sure how much she should tell Lucy about Charles’ letter.
The thought of lying to Lucy was killing her, though.
Lucy was not only her sister but her closest confidant.
How could she bear to place a wedge of deceit between them?
Lucy waited for her in the library, patiently working on her embroidery. Emma entered the room with a tentative, “Hello.”
Lucy put her stitching away in its basket. She patted the couch next to her. “How are you feeling? How is your arm healing?”
“It is doing fine.” Emma sat down and distractedly rubbed her arm. “It hardly pains me.”
“Emma, I’ve some news. Lord Davenport has asked me to marry him, and I have accepted.” Her whole face lit up, happiness shining in her eyes.
“That’s wonderful news, Lucy! When did he ask you?”
“Two days ago, he asked if there was anyone he should get permission from before announcing our engagement. I told him no, but that I wanted to tell you first. Oh, Emma, he is so wonderful.”
Emma leaned over and gave her sister a hard hug. This is exactly what she had hoped for Lucy. It confirmed that she was making the right decision. She didn’t want anything to mar Lucy’s happiness.
Lucy pulled back and took hold of Emma’s hands.
“We need to talk about Charles. I wrote you that he came to see me, and he was quite angry when I said you were not in town. He grabbed me roughly by the arms. His face was red with rage. I have never seen him like that before.” A small furrow appeared between her eyebrows.
“He physically shook me and demanded to know where you were. Lord Davenport was out in the garden, heard us through the door, and came in to intervene. I told Charles he was not welcome in this house any longer. I’m sorry to not have consulted you first, but I don’t regret my decision. ”
Emma slumped back against the cushions. Charles had actually tried to hurt Lucy? Lucy banned him from the house? Her whole world spun upside down. This was all her fault. Sitting up, she reached into her pocket to pull out the letter.
“Charles sent me this letter a week ago.” She took a deep breath in and handed it to Lucy. As she waited for Lucy to read the letter, she stared out the window at the bare trees and the muddy street. The gloomy weather outside matched her mood.
“He’s trying to blackmail you! And using me as well—despicable. What are you going to do? What did the duke say about the letter?”
“I didn’t show him. I can’t steal from him or the duchess.”
“Of course you can’t. But I know His Grace would help if he knew. Why didn’t you show him?”
“He did offer his support, but I pushed him away.” She swallowed hard; it still upset her to think about how she had hurt him.
“Don’t you see? His reputation could be threatened, all because of me.
It’s best if I am not in his life, then Charles can’t use him as leverage.
I will just steal something else for Charles’ auction. Everything will be fine.”
“Emma, you’re being a fool. Stop trying to fix everything yourself. I love you, and I wager the duke loves you as well.”
Emma looked down at her hands clasped together in her lap. She didn’t want to talk about Andrew’s feelings for her right now.
Lucy grabbed hold of her hands again. “We can figure out a way to stop Charles together. Starting with this blackmail letter.”
“No, don’t you see he will start a scandal? He can disappear at any time. But the rumors he leaves behind will ruin us. What about your engagement? What if Lord Davenport finds out about my secret life?”
“He knows already.”
“What!”
“I’ve already told him everything—well, mostly. After I kicked Charles out, I felt it was best to explain. I don’t want any secrets between us.”
“And he wasn’t appalled? He still wants to marry you?”
“He was shocked at first, but he loves me. He wants to take care of me. It doesn’t matter to him about the past. Of course, I assured him you were retired.” She arched one eyebrow. “Right?”
Eyes wide, Emma stared at her sister. Lord Davenport knew she was a thief?
Knew Lucy had no dowry, and he still wanted to marry her?
Was that love? Being with the person you love, no matter the challenges?
As the truth dawned on her, Emma squeezed her eyes shut. “Lucy, I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“Go to him. Fix it,” Lucy urged her.
She shook her head. “I’ve hurt him. He proposed, twice. But I refused.”
“Tell him how you feel. He will forgive you.” She gave her an encouraging smile. But Emma wasn’t so sure.