Page 22 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke (Marriage by Midnight #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

S t James' Palace was a gloomy Tudor construction of dark stone, with a tall, turreted, square tower over its entrance. Within, the Regent had stamped his own personality on the centuries-old interior.

Mirrors reflected the light of candles. Chandeliers of shimmering crystal hung from the ceiling, and gold shone from inlaid panels and the thread of clothing.

In the Great Hall, a gentle bubble of conversation provided a constant backdrop. The gentle notes of a string quarter underlay it and occasionally peeked through the noise. The room clinked and winked, chains, bracelets, tiaras, and rings adorning the guests.

Emma felt intimidated by the opulent grandeur, so different from the social occasions she was used to. The sudden change in Damien's mood in the carriage had left her feeling uncertain and ill at ease.

“Why, Your Grace, what a surprise to see you here!” crowed a tall, thin man with a shock of white hair and an eagle's nose.

“His Lordship, the Earl of Coventry,” Damien introduced Emma to the man, “Coventry, this is my wife.”

“And this is my Countess,” Coventry indicated a woman at his elbow. She had dark hair, a statuesque figure, a beauty spot, and a face covered in powder.

“My pleasure, Your Graces. I have read much of you,” she began boldly.

“ Read ?” Emma asked. “Did you perhaps mean our wedding bans?”

“I did not,” Lady Coventry said with a sly smile.

“Ah, then you mean the gossip columns,” Emma replied as though only just realizing something terribly obvious, “I'm afraid they are fascinated by my husband. I cannot think why; he is perfectly ordinary.”

“Oh, but the ordinary on the surface can hide so much wickedness beneath, don't you find?” Lady Coventry said with a suggestive wink.

Emma should have let the comment pass with a graceful smile. Perhaps she might have, once. But now, she would play the role she had committed to play, and that was of a Duchess. That meant defending her husband against innuendo. She would show Damien she could be trusted and relied upon. Perhaps he may someday trust her enough with his own secrets then. Like why his father’s memory had angered him so much in the carriage.

“I find that wickedness leaves its mark where it is found. One can always recognize it. I do not know which is the more wicked. The men who concoct lies to sell what they call a newspaper. Or the people who read it and keep them in business,” Emma said airily.

“ Hear hear !” the Earl bellowed enthusiastically, earning a dagger from his wife.

“Excuse us, your ladyship,” Damien pinched a graceful smile, “but we must mingle further.”

He steered Emma silently through the room, making introductions and a few shards of small talk as they went.

“You might thank me at some point,” Emma murmured.

They had reached a quiet place in the room where the ebbs and flows of the assembled guests momentarily eddied around them without touching.

“I did not ask, but thank you,” Damien finally whispered.

She suppressed a groan. “And will you tell me what I said that was so wrong earlier in the carriage?”

“Nothing at all. I apologize if I gave that impression.”

Emma frowned at her husband’s stoic, unresponsive facade. “You still do. We both know precisely what the Countess was referring to. Over the past week, you have spent your nights away from our shared home. I have not questioned you on it as I told myself I would trust the pledge you made. But how do you think that makes me feel?”

His gaze narrowed on her. “I would never break that vow.”

“But how could I know? In private, you scarcely seek me out. In public, it is as though I am speaking to an emotionless wall. This arrangement will be rendered ten times more difficult if we do not get along!”

“Getting along is not necessary,” Damien replied mechanically, “merely to appear...”

Emma noticed the crowd parting for the approaching Prince Regent. Acting quickly, she threaded her fingers through Damien's and stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“ Smile! ” she whispered urgently.

Damien's eyes made to trail her gaze, and she stroked her fingers down his face. It looked like a caress, but she sought to prevent him from turning his head.

“We are very much in love, remember?” she murmured.

“My dear cousin, Redmane!” the Regent exclaimed, “well met, old chap! It has been too long since a Redmane was here at St James'. We shall rectify that. You and your darling wife shall be regular visitors. I swear it!”

The Regent was a tall but overweight dandy in an outfit that would have put the Sun King himself to shame. Only his booming voice and overbearing personality were louder than his choice of clothes.

“Your Royal Highness,” Damien bowed deeply, his voice grave.

As the Regent looked to Emma, she fell into a deep curtsy, hoping that she looked appropriately demure.

Truthfully, she had little idea how to behave or appear in front of royalty. Unlike with her sisters, that education was lost on her in favor of other, more salient duties to her family. Still, it was her duty to impress, and impress she would try.

“ Lady Fitzgerald . A radiant wife you have managed to seek out, Redmane. Quite exquisite,” the Regent enthused, clapping his hands together, “I should like an opportunity to dance with her this evening.”

“Of course, Your Royal Highness,” Damien replied.

“I should be delighted, Your Royal Highness,” Emma seconded.

“And do not think that I am unaware of your own illustrious family, my dear Duchess. The Montrose's have a long history and are a valued piece of our English aristocracy. I look forward to meeting your father and brother during the course of this evening,”

Emma smiled prettily, feeling a sense of triumph and relief. With the friendship or even patronage of the Regent, surely their financial hardships were behind them—even without Damien. She looked at him then, but his face was unreadable as he watched the Regent. Before she looked away, she caught Damien's eyes moving back to her and saw the shadow of a smile on his lips. He held her gaze for a heartbeat before the Regent's bombastic voice forced both their attention back to him.

He appeared… pleased . He saw it, too, and was glad that her family was being helped out of the mire they had found themselves in. So, he did care.

It gave her a warm feeling that suffused her entire body.

“Now, I understand that Charles is something of a sportsman. I myself am quite sporting. I hope you will all join me at Ascot this year.”

“My brother is indeed a sportsman. Very fond of games of all kinds,” Emma smiled, “he has long urged our father to replenish the bloodstock of our stables.”

“A little too fond of games, perhaps, eh?” the Regent said with a wink and a sly smile.

The smile slid from Emma to Damien, conspiratorial, while his voice announced their conversation to all who were nearby. Emma flushed in embarrassment, and Damien bristled. She felt him tense and discreetly squeezed his hand, which was hidden from view by her skirts and his coat. She felt a responding squeeze. Damien did not let go.

“I myself am perhaps a little too fond of the gaming tables and racing tracks. My dear Maria has long counseled me to moderation, but moderation is so dull. Is it not?”

He looked at Damien, whose face seemed to be masking a brewing storm. Emma could almost see the conflict within him: to answer curtly or to pander to this man.

“It is a fine line between pleasure and responsibility, to be certain,” Emma cut in. “I myself find that I indulge too much in the countryside and nature. So much that I have quite neglected my social duty and thus have missed such occasions as this and meeting yourself.”

“You have indeed! But now you are practicing moderation and spreading yourself more evenly between town and country. My father is fond of rural living. I prefer the town. An excellent point, may I call you Emmeline?”

He seems pleased with my answer. That is well. I do not think that I could bring myself to agree with his dissolute attitude any more than Damien could.

“You may call me Emma . That is what my family and friends call me.”

The Regent clapped his hands to his heart.

“Oh my, a true honor. Thank you, my dear. I must introduce you to Maria. I think you would get along famously. She is a commoner but also loves the country. You will come to afternoon tea. We will arrange it.”

Emma's attention was all on the touch of Damien's hand on hers. He had shifted his stance slightly and now stood with one hand resting gently on the small of her back. It felt proprietary, and that, in turn, was a thrilling sensation. Chills ran up her spine. She knew that she was blushing from his gentle touch but hoped it looked as though she was simply thrilled at the personal invitation from the Regent.

“We can discuss that other matter soon, Redmane. The matter which had been left in my care by your illustrious father,” the Regent chirped as he turned away, “don't worry. I approve heartily of your wife and her family. Heartily! Yes, indeed!”

Emma bit her lip. The Regent had turned away so suddenly that she'd had no opportunity to repeat her curtsey to him. And had no desire to relinquish the touch on her back. A crowd followed the Regent; another crowd, smaller, closed into the void he had left. They all seemed keen to address themselves to the Duke and Duchess of Redmane, buoyed by the Regent's enthusiastic acceptance of them. She looked at Damien and found him glancing at her. He leaned close.

“I am sorry for the way I spoke earlier. I will explain.”

“Are you sorry for the right reasons, or is it just that you are grateful that I impressed the Regent?” Emma asked.

Their faces were inches apart and Emma was very conscious of the many eyes upon them. Damien's eyes bored into hers, making her feel naked before his gaze. Butterflies tumbled in her stomach and she could feel her pulse at her throat. She swallowed but did not look away.

“There is much that you do not know about me.”

“Much that I should like to know.”

“And after your bitterness towards me for forcing you into this marriage, can I trust you with the truth?”

Never had Emma wanted to be kissed more. She saw the chink in Damien's armor. Saw the contemplation on his face of whether to trust her. The war between his caution and his desire.

Can I trust you? I rely on you for my family's safety and security, and you have openly told me that you have no desire to be with me unless it is to perpetuate this facade in public.

“Do not keep your scintillating new wife to yourself, cousin!” Isaac or Jacob's voice interrupted heartily.

Both looked to see the twins at the fore of the small group that had gathered to ingratiate themselves.

“We should like to get to know her better ourselves. She is now family, after all,” Jacob chimed.

“Sister to us, as Charles is like our brother,” Isaac added.

Emma suppressed a sigh as Damien's face hardened, and he looked away from her. It was like he had lost his touch on her body.