Page 30 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke (Marriage by Midnight #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY

“ W hatever is the matter, Damien? Is it bad news?” Emma asked.

They sat outdoors, enjoying breakfast on the veranda of Redmane Manor, watching the sheep that had been driven onto the lawn by a local tenant farmer to crop the grass. A blue sky and warm sun, together with the fluffy contented animals munching, combined to make for an idyllic morning.

Emma wore white, while Damien was clad in shades of brown and green. He looked handsome and dashing, his hair swept back and his profile regal. But his hand had clenched convulsively around a letter delivered by Wilkins. He had glanced at its contents, and his face had darkened. For a moment, Damien looked at her blankly, his thoughts elsewhere.

Now is the test of our newfound intimacy. Will he try to placate me and keep his secrets, or...?

Damien straightened the letter and handed it to Emma.

“It is from the Regent. I will spare you the trouble of reading his flowery nonsense. It serves to dress up an insulting message. He offers me the chance to have my marriage annulled.”

Those words struck Emma like a hammer. She found her hands shaking as she read. Skimming the formal language Damien had described as flowery nonsense , she found the crux of the matter.

“...if you were to assert that your marriage has not yet been consummated due to irreconcilable differences, then I would be prepared to witness such a statement. The Bishop of London, as a favor to me, would be prepared to authorize a petition of annulment to the Archbishop of Canterbury. I am given to believe that it would be looked upon favorably. I cannot help but think that your choice of the Montrose family may not have been ideal. But I wish to aid you in any way I can as the trustee appointed by your illustrious father.”

Damien snatched the letter from Emma's hands and tore it into small pieces, which he dropped into the teapot.

“My answer is clear enough?” Damien muttered, his voice icy with anger.

“It is,” Emma replied, feeling relieved, albeit still extremely guilty. “Thank you.”

Damien waved dismissively. “Do not thank me. I intend to ignore a chance for you to free yourself of me. I would crawl through hell itself to be by your side, but I do not pretend that I am an easy companion.”

Emma took his hand, pressing it to her lips and closing her eyes from the pleasure of contact. The kind of contact did not matter when it came to Damien. Touching his hand, his face, his hair, or his naked body all produced the same thrills in her.

Damien leaned over and kissed her hair, breathing deeply as he did. Emma savored the sensation of being enjoyed in such a way. It was not just her looks or her touch; Damien seemed to want to experience her with every sense he had.

But there are still the secrets he holds that I have not been given the keys to unlock, she mused inwardly. Where does he go, and why does he return to me with injuries? What dangers is he exposing himself to, and why?

“Will the Regent be incensed if you do not accept his offer?” Emma asked, nuzzling against Damien's neck.

“He will feel insulted. The man is shallow and self-centered. It may cause him to favor Isaac and Jacob more over me,” Damien replied.

“And that could cost you the Dukedom,” she whispered.

“It could… But the Dukedom can go hang,” he replied.

Emma looked up, finding his eyes, and seeing the sincerity in them.

“You cannot mean that. You have worked so hard to rebuild your reputation, to keep your birthright. I do not believe you would throw it away. For me?”

“I will not give up our marriage. It might have begun as a means to an end, but it is more than that. It is more important to me than a title or an estate.”

Tears filled Emma's eyes.

“I do not think I have ever felt valued. Not as a woman. As an administrator for my father's estates. As a nursemaid for my siblings. But never in the way I felt a woman should be. Not since...”

“Will you tell me who did it to you?” Damien asked, an urgency in his voice that spoke of his desperation to know.

“Will you tell me what you do when you leave me to visit your mills?” Emma asked pointedly.

Damien's face closed. He looked away, eyes narrowing, shutting the gates with Emma locked outside. She had walls of her own.

“Very well. We will each keep our secrets,” Emma said regretfully.

“We will,” Damien replied.

“Provided it is not another woman,” Emma murmured boldly.

Damien looked at her with a hawk's sharp gaze. She returned his stare measure for measure, refusing to be intimidated.

“I would never betray you. And I have no desire for any woman other than you. Other women are insignificant next to you. Candles before the sun.”

“Pleasing words, but words are just sounds. They can be devoid of meaning.”

She had not realized how close they had become. At some point, their fingers had entwined, and Damien's face was inches from hers. They spoke in an intimate whisper, eyes never deviating from each other.

“My words always have meaning. Because they are the sounds of my heart,” Damien muttered, “and I will prove it to you.”

“How does one prove the sincerity of words without sharing his soul, holding nothing back?”

“By being by your side today. And tomorrow. And the day after. Until one day, you will be silver-haired and infirm, though as beautiful to me as you are now, and on that day, you will remember this and marvel that you ever doubted.”

“Perhaps I will marvel at how I ever trusted as I look back on a life spent alone,” Emma murmured.

“You will not, because I will not allow it.”

She arched a brow. “Is it up to you to decide whether I should live alone? That is for me to decide.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I will not allow it. Now that I have found you, I will not let you go. I will give up my wealth, house, land, and title first. I will be a pauper in a workhouse. I will fight God if he tries to take you from me.”

Those words struck Emma. Struck to the core as though a bolt of lightning had split the sky to transfix her heart. There was utter conviction in Damien's eyes. He would grapple with the Creator to keep her by his side. And she believed him.

“Good morning to you both. I have been waiting for the opportune moment to interrupt, but I don't think you will give me a second,” Josie said over loud.

Emma looked over Damien's shoulder to see her sister standing at the French doors leading into the sitting room; her back resolutely turned to protect their privacy. Josie had taken to staying with them at Redmane Manor, alongside Charles, ever since the duel had been announced by Isaac. Sir Thomas had also taken up temporary residence nearby as Charles’ second, another likely factor in Josie’s decision to reside here.

Emma blushed and saw Damien grin in pleased embarrassment.

“We are quite decent, Josie. Turn around. Please, join us. Though, do not pour tea from that pot!”

She burst into laughter with Damien while Josie frowned in confusion.

“Is Charles with you?” Damien asked.

“He is on his way down and looks as though he is about to be sick,” Josie said, “I fear for my Thomas... and for you, Your Grace, I just do not think that Charles is up to a duel. If not, then his seconds might...”

Emma rose and went to Josie who had become quite pale. The younger woman was biting her lip, looking at Damien anxiously.

“I could not bear it if anything happened to Thomas,” she said as Emma guided her to a chair.

“Nothing will. I will be his first second if Charles cannot fulfill his obligations. Sir Thomas will never have to face the duel.”

Emma was at once grateful for Damien's calm reassurance and terrified of the same prospect that had so unsettled Josie. Damien was making a promise that she knew he would not hesitate to fulfill, even at the expense of his own life.

For Josie, she smiled and patted her hand.

“It will all be well,” she soothed, trying to put on a brave face for her younger sister.

She must not see her own fears reflected in my face. It will only serve to panic her if she senses how frightened I am.

“I will fulfill my promise. I will do my duty,” Charles said from the same door Josie had just emerged from.

Josie and Emma jumped. They exchanged guilty looks. Their conversation had painted Charles very unfavorable, questioning his courage and integrity. He looked sorrowful but determined. Damien stood.

“I have no doubt. Join us for breakfast, and let us talk of happier subjects.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, but I have no appetite this morning. Not with the duel looming tomorrow morning. I would like, if it is acceptable, to practice. I have brought a pistol.”

“Quite right,” Damien said, “I will help. Give you any pointers, though I am sure you are accomplished enough. If the ladies will excuse us?”

Emma gratefully gave her assent, which Josie echoed. They watched the two men walk away, Damien leading along the path that circumnavigated the house. He walked with hands clasped behind his back, upright and stiff, controlled in every movement. Charles' shoulders were slumped, and his hands were wrung when he wasn't gesturing in quick, anxious movements.

I thank God for a brave husband. But it would be easier for my nerves if he were an abject coward who refused to put himself in harm’s way.

“I am so very sorry, Emma. I should not have spoken. Now your husband feels obliged to put himself in harm's way over Thomas,” Josie murmured.

“Do not mind it,” Emma smiled, “I have no fear for Damien.”

She was lying, but the need to comfort her sister was paramount. Emma could weep from her terror when she was alone. At that moment, Josie’s need was for comfort.

“Because you were forced into marrying him? You seemed so in love when I saw you. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

Emma shook her head gently. “You were not. I find that I have absolute faith in Damien. It is as though he were... Achilles . Undefeatable.”

“Achilles was not undefeatable,” Josie pointed out mournfully, “he had his heel.”

“You are a ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?” Emma laughed.

It felt forced. Josie rested her head on Emma’s shoulder. Emma took the opportunity to allow her tears to seep through while Josie could not see.

Please, Lord, let them both be well. Let all three of them be well!

Pistol shots began to sing out from the other side of the house. Emma and Josie exchanged anxious looks, knowing it was simply the two men practicing but uncomfortable hearing it regardless. By mutual consent, they decided to retire to a part of the house that would mute the fateful sounds and went inside.

As Emma led the way to her private sitting room on the third floor, a new worry was presented. Elsie was guiding a young maid down the hallway, comforting her. The young girl, Mable , was pale and trembling. She wept into a handkerchief.

“Elsie, whatever is happening? Mable? Are you well?”

“I am taking Mable to her room for a bit of quiet. She has had a scare,” Elsie said briskly.

“A scare? How?” Emma asked.

“She was dusting in the hallway here, at the far end, and she heard the violin that we had both heard. And then something else…” Elsie replied.

“It was horrible, Your Grace, like a demon from hell! Roaring and growling, and then there was this terrible crash. There is something in this house, something that means us harm! It was like it was trying to break through the walls to get to me!”