Chapter Ten
Nathaniel’s hand froze, suspended in the air, as the door in front of him swung open before he could even knock.
Emilia stared at him in shock, her eyes widening when she saw the fist that he held only a few inches from where her face now was.
He quickly lowered his hand, every word of his carefully planned-out speech left his mind the moment she opened the door.
Every time he had seen Emilia, he couldn’t help but regard how pretty she was. Even dripping in river water, there was no hiding her delicate features and the striking contrast of her complexion with the depth of color in her eyes and hair.
Yesterday she had been a vision in a simple gown of ivory silk and lace—but standing here with the early morning light cascading over her shoulders from the windows behind her, she was simply breathtaking.
“Your Grace?”
Her eyes turned from shock to concern, and Nathaniel realized that he was staring at her. He exhaled, forcing his shoulders to relax, and smiled as convincingly as he could. The more one trained their body to portray ease, the better chance the mind would start to believe it as well.
“Good Morning, Emilia.” His voice sounded forced even to his own ears. “I trust you slept well.”
“I did.” She returned his smile with one of her own, though she still regarded him with the slightest sense of unease.
“Did you need something, Your Grace?”
“No,” he answered, far too quickly. He could see the confusion unfolding across her face. Of course he needed something, what other reason did he have for being caught outside her door—mid-knock—before breakfast?
What was it about this woman that made him completely lose the ability to think before speaking?
“I simply wanted to speak with you,” he corrected.
“Oh,” Emilia relaxed slightly, her hands clasped delicately in front of her waist. “What about?”
Nathaniel once again found himself at a loss for words.
She stared at him expectantly, and for a moment, he considered abandoning course entirely and offering her a tour of the townhouse after breakfast. Unfortunately, avoiding uncomfortable conversations did not make them go away; it only gave them space to grow even more uncomfortable.
“I wanted to speak to you about last night,” he paused to allow his words to sink in, but he was only met with more confusion.
“Did something happen last night?” Emilia asked.
“No,” Nathaniel responded. He should have said more; he should have clarified before she jumped to her own conclusions, but his words still failed him. A slight flush crept up his neck as he watched Emilia’s cheeks tint pink, the implication of his words sinking in.
“Oh,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”
She took a small step back from him, her eyes dropping to the floor. “I did not realize….” she stammered. “I mean, I was unsure of your expectation, but I had assumed…I should come to…”
“Emilia, no.” Nathaniel cut off her ramblings, closing the gap she had put between them. “You misunderstand me. I am here to apologize to you.” He lowered his head, trying to get her to meet his gaze again.
“Apologize for what?” She asked.
“For not properly communicating my expectations—or rather, my lack thereof.”
Emilia finally looked at him.
“When it comes to our relationship, I have no expectations.”
Her posture relaxed and she lifted her head a little more as Nathaniel continued. “I know this all happened very swiftly, and you had little choice in any of it. I do not want to put you in one more situation where you feel as though you have no say.”
Nathaniel gestured past her shoulder, pointing to the door that connected their two rooms. “That door will remain closed, unless you decide to open it.”
Emilia’s mouth turned up in a shy smile. “While I appreciate the sentiment,” she said. “I am also fully aware of the responsibility you must carry to produce an heir.”
“It is expected, yes,” Nathaniel agreed. “But that is not my concern at the moment—you are.”
Her eyes widened again at his admission. Nathaniel’s thoughts drifted to the way she had trembled that night in the garden, and beneath her uncle’s harsh glare. He remembered how quickly she calmed under his touch, and he could not deny the part of his heart that longed to always be that for her.
“My only thought is ensuring that you are comfortable here with me,” he continued. “Delaying any possibility of an heir until the future may also prove to be beneficial when it comes to turning the talk of the Ton away from our swift union.”
“Oh, yes.” Emilia’s eyes dipped to the floor once more. “I had not considered that.” She was still blushing, but her posture and tone were relaxed.
Nathaniel could have ended the conversation there, but something about this woman tugged at his heart in ways he thought he had become immune to.
“I do not want you to believe that I am in any way indifferent towards you now that duty has been fulfilled. This title can be lonely at times. It is one that you did not ask for, and I do not take the position you are in lightly.” He smiled gently, “Please know that you can always come to me, Emilia. For anything. You are never at risk of being turned away.”
She looked at him again, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Thank you,” she smiled in return. “I suppose we got off on the wrong foot when we met—both times.”
Nathaniel nodded, “We certainly did.”
Emilia’s lips pressed together, and Nathaniel’s heart flipped when he saw an unexpected sparkle in her eye.
“I propose a do-over,” she said, taking a step back from him.
“Pardon?”
Emilia gestured towards the open door.
“A do-over,” she smiled. “If you’d please,” she shooed him from the room with a wave of her hand and then shut the door behind him.
Realization dawned, and Nathaniel laughed in surprise as he raised his hand to knock again. This time the door did not open until after he had rapped on the wood three times.
“Hello, sir,” Emilia said with a bright smile, holding out her hand with a dramatic flair he had not expected from her. “I am Lady Emilia Tal—”
Nathaniel cleared his throat, quietly raising his eyebrows in expectation.
“Oh, pardon me,” Emilia whispered. “Emilia Eaton. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Nathaniel grasped her ungloved hand, ignoring the butterflies that set flight in his stomach at the touch. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” he said. “Would you care to join me for breakfast?”
Emilia curtsied. “I would be honored, Your Grace.”
Nathaniel bristled. “Must you call me that? I can barely tolerate the servants addressing me by my title in my own home, let alone my wife.” The term had slipped so effortlessly off his tongue that it almost startled him.
“What would you suggest?” Emilia asked.
“Nathaniel?”
Emilia shook her head and Nathaniel laughed. He had noticed her refusal to call him by his given name, but he hoped that was something that would change.
“What about Kenswick?” He suggested, offering his arm as they began to make their way down the hall.
Emilia scrunched her nose in distaste. “Oh, no. I am sorry. You may have to tolerate Your Grace a little while longer.” Her smile turned into a lopsided grin. “Just until I am more comfortable.”
Nathaniel nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace,” he teased, emphasizing her new title.
“Oh no!” Emilia exclaimed in horror, as though the realization just dawned on her that she was now a duchess.
“I shan't ever get used to that.” She murmured under her breath.
Nathaniel chuckled as he stole a glance at the woman on his arm. He had once believed the same thing, though suddenly, it had become much more bearable.
∞∞∞
“I must take you to the shops!” Charlotte exclaimed in between bites of her breakfast. How one managed to summon so much energy so early in the morning before even eating was a mystery to Emilia, but Charlotte Eaton seemed to be a mysterious force even to her brother.
“Charlotte,” Nathaniel said without even glancing up from the cup of tea he was preparing. “You are aware that Emilia has lived in London for most of her life. She has been to the shops.”
“Well, yes,” Charlotte responded, her enthusiasm none deterred. “But not as a duchess. It is much more fun to visit the shops when you are carrying the weight of a full purse and a title.”
Emilia could not help but laugh, but Nathaniel groaned from his seat beside her. “Perhaps we should give the Ton time to come to terms with our arrangement, before you begin to parade her around town.”
The young girl rolled her eyes before taking a bite of a biscuit slathered in cherry preserves. “What fun is causing a scandal if you can not even enjoy the effects of it. I am sure Rotten Row is simply drenched in the tears of every young lady who has heard of your nuptials.”
Nathaniel pressed a hand to his forehead before leaning in closer to Emilia’s chair.
“I am sorry,” he whispered, his breath brushing against her cheek. “You may have agreed to marry me, but I did not properly warn you of all that the position entails.”
Emilia laughed again. She had yet to find Lady Charlotte anything but delightful, and despite the stern indifference the duke attempted to project, the twinkle in his eye and the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed how dearly he adored his youngest sister, and how earnestly he took his role as her guardian.
“Please do not apologize,” Emilia whispered in return. “You have not properly met my cousin. She would put Charlotte to shame.”
She leaned in closer to Nathaniel, lowering her voice even more. “We should ensure that they are never left together unsupervised.”
Nathaniel looked down at her with a smile, and Emilia’s heart skipped a beat. There was no reason she should be this comfortable with a man she had only just met, but something about Nathaniel opened up the carefree parts of her heart she had thought were long locked away.
“What are you two whispering about?” Charlotte observed them from across the table. “You have been married for less than a day, and you are already keeping secrets from me.”
A footman entered the breakfast room, relieving them from having to answer.
“Let me guess,” Nathaniel said with a sigh. “Lord Blackburn is here to see me?”
The footman nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Emilia glanced out the window at the sun still making its way over the row of houses lining the eastern streets of Mayfair.
“It is rather early for visitors,” she remarked.
“You have not properly met Oliver,” Nathaniel grinned, turning to the footman. “Have him wait for me in my study. I will be with him in a moment.”
Emilia instinctively raised her hand, stopping the footman before he departed. Nathaniel looked at her in surprise, but did not object.
“If he is used to being received in the breakfast room, I truly do not mind,” Emilia said. She had been such a disruption to their lives already; she did not wish to cause any more inconvenience.
Nathaniel shook his head at the footmen, confirming he wanted his guest taken to his study.
“Oliver can be an acquired taste,” he explained. “Especially at this hour of the morning.”
“I resent that,” Lord Blackburn stated jovially as he entered the room, a flustered footman following behind him. “I am more of an exotic flavor.”
Nathaniel groaned. “You are supposed to be in my study.”
“Yes, but it is such an incredibly long hallway.” Lord Blackburn flashed a dimpled grin. “I thought you might get lonely, so I persuaded dear Fredrick here to allow me to walk with you.”
Frederick’s head hung low, but Nathaniel simply shook his head in quiet resolve.
“Good Morning, Your Grace.” Oliver turned to Emilia, bowing low, his blonde hair flopping with the gesture. “I must say, being a duchess suits you. You are radiant this morning.”
He cast a teasing glance in the duke’s direction. “Do you not think her radiant, Nathaniel?”
“As the sun.” Nathaniel’s dry, even tone was void of all humor as he kept a cold gaze focused on his friend, standing to his feet. “Let us leave the ladies to their breakfast.”
“Are you not going to eat?” Emilia called after him. Nathaniel hesitated before he turned around, obviously caught off guard.
“No,” he said simply. “I will be fine.”
“You have to eat something,” Emilia objected. She did not want to point out the dark shadows under his eyes or the way he stood a little less tall this morning. He looked tired—heart-stoppingly handsome—but tired.
“Would you like me to bring a plate to your study?”
Lord Blackburn’s grin could have brightened the entire room, had the sun not already been streaming in through the windows. Nathaniel simply shook his head, and Emilia thought she saw his cheeks flush red before he turned away again.
“There is no need,” he murmured as he gently pushed Oliver’s shoulder to guide him out the door. “Enjoy your morning.”
Charlotte shook her head, adding more preserves to her already slathered biscuit, “I do not know if I have seen Nathaniel take a full meal in months.”
Emilia felt a twinge of concern. She had not noticed if he had eaten during the wedding breakfast, but he was absent at dinner the night before. She had assumed he had taken a tray in his study, but now she was not so sure.
“There is always something ducal that requires his attention,” Charlotte continued, licking the sticky fruit jam from her fingers.
“Does he sleep?” Emilia asked. Despite what she had told Nathanial that morning, she had spent most of the night lying awake in her strange bed. She hadn’t noticed a light flickering or footsteps coming from his side of the door.
“Usually in his study,” Charlotte replied.
Emilia nodded. The more she learned about the man she married, the more of a puzzle he became.
Charlotte’s chair scraped against the polished floors as she stood.“I should like to take you on a tour of Kenswick House today,” she declared. “One should be familiar with the house she is the Lady of.”
Emilia smiled, pushing down her thoughts and concern over Nathaniel. He was a duke, and certainly not a man who appeared in need of anyone’s care. Yet Emilia was quite unsure what she would do with herself if he had no need of her at all.