Page 56 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke
Or would it?
“I am not blind, Emma. I have spoken with this man. I have been with this man and you have not. How are you seeing something I’m not?” Joane responded.
Her voice had risen to a high pitch, almost a shout. Emma stood up to hold her hand; she drew Joane back to sit on the bed.
“I want you to admit to yourself what you are thinking in your heart. Something is up with Mr. William’s recent overtures, overtures that started immediately after he lost the duel to your father in less than fair circumstances,” Emma said.
Joane shook her head. She knew something was wrong with it. She found it hard to admit it.
“I am trying to protect you my dear. You are the Duke’s daughter, no matter how much of a difficult man your father is. But even greater, you are my friend and as such I cannot allow you to give your heart to the wrong person. I have asked around about Mr. William. I know you know this too but his smoothness and handsome face makes your heart quake and your brain forget. He is a rake and a prolific one at that. What if you are just one of his conquests?” Emma asked.
I’m not one of his conquests. I feel it in the beat of his heart. He wants me just as much as I want him.
She couldn’t tell Emma that. She looked down at her feet and slowly brought her hands up to cradle her head between them.
“What do you want, Emma?” Joane said, the resignation was evident in her voice.
“I want you to steer off him a bit. I don’t know if you guys have planned another meeting before the next ball at Bedford next week. I will just poke around and find what I can. If I don’t find out anything concrete I promise to allow you love him undisturbed,” Emma said.
Joane looked at her friend and smiled. Her smile was fueled by a mixture of love, fear and sadness.
I love you, Emma, for being so caring. What will she find? Emma is never wrong, what if she’s right?
Joane saw what had brought she and Emma close when they met in France. Emma was willing to protect her interests like no one did. She felt grateful. She held Emma’s hand and squeezed it.
“Thank you, Emma. You have always protected me,” Joane said.
Emma smiled and drew Joane into a hug. Joane looked out the window as she placed her neck over her friend’s shoulder.
What are you up to, William? I felt your heart beat for me. I saw it in your eyes. Now prove it to my friend.
Joane drew out of the embrace, picked the lamp and took it to the stand beside the door. That was her first act in her sleep preparation ritual. Emma noticed it too because she stood up and walked to the door.
“I’ll use the next room. I’ll leave early tomorrow morning so you might not see me when you wake up tomorrow,” Emma said.
Joane didn’t say anything. She nodded her head.
“Good night, Joane,” Emma said, opening the door as she did so.
“Good night,” Joane replied.
She saw Emma walk out and close the door behind her. The door to the other room opened and Joane heard her friend enter and close the door behind her. Joane walked to her bed, got into it and wrapped herself with her thick wrapper.
She thought about all William’s words. She was looking for anything he said that indicated he didn’t have honourable intentions. The only thing that she could find was his reply when she asked him what he wanted.
You kissed me. Is that what you want? My body? Or would you love me first before consuming me?
Joane remembered seeing the delight in his eyes when she told Mr. Bruce she was staying. He liked her. He did.
*******
Joane opened her eyes as a strand of sunlight struck her eyelid. She felt the heat from the caressing ray before she saw the light. She sat up on her bed. She had slept off thinking about William yesterday. She looked to the door and saw the lamp had died. She looked outside her window.
It was past day break. Everywhere was bright. Emma would have left.
Joane got out of bed and walked to the window, opening it to allow fresh air into her room. She stretched her neck out of the window and saw her coach sitting beside the staircase.
Mr. Bruce is back.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56 (reading here)
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123