Page 37 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke (Marriage by Midnight #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“ I simply cannot think why we have not visited with you before now, Your Grace!” Lady Lydia Hamilton exclaimed.

She spoke in proclamations and exclamations. Emma smiled.

“I cannot think why we have not invited you to luncheon before, Lady Lydia. I plead ignorance of exactly who I must know in town after an upbringing in the country.”

“There is much to be said for a rural upbringing away from the noise and bustle of the city,” Sir Maxwell Percy pronounced, sipping sherry.

“Much indeed. Though I do so prefer the life of the city. So much to see and do, so many fascinating people. Do you not think so, Thomas?” Josie said, playing the part of co-host alongside her sister and brother-in-law, and playing it well.

Emma sipped tea, nodding agreement, and seeing that nod ripple through the room. There were many other people in earshot at this afternoon tea in Curzon Street, and all waited patiently to discover what it was they should be agreeing with. At the moment it was every word of the new Duchess of Redmane and her sister, newly engaged Josephine Montrose.

“I understand congratulations are in order Lady Josephine?” asked Lord Archibald Thwaite of Ripon.

He never wasted a sentence on a definite statement when a question could be used to verify the opinion of the person with whom he spoke.

“Yes, indeed, Sir Thomas Donovan,” Josie said, smiling sweetly.

“Congratulations?” Lord Archibald queried.

“Congratulations, indeed!” Lady Lydia proclaimed, “And when might we expect your other sister to make her rounds during the season and suitably marry.”

“She is already twenty years of age. But is tending to our father at Montrose Hall,” Emma smiled sadly, “he took ill recently.”

Emma glanced across the room where Damien stood in a circle of his own. They looked to him for their conversational guidance but he seemed hardly to be speaking. Sir Thomas stood next to him and bore the burden of carrying the conversation.

Whatever has gotten into him? It seems that everything we wanted has fallen into our laps. Society accepts us. The Regent considers us his friends. Charles has finally grown up after his duel and now actually seems fit to be the next Earl. The only people who should be withdrawn are Josie and myself.

Damien's eyes lifted from his sherry and met Emma's from across the room. She could see the sorrow in his stare, feel the tension between them, but did not understand its source.

“I must say that the Duke and yourself do make such a lovely couple. It is so refreshing to see a young married couple so perfectly happy,” someone was saying.

Emma broke away from Damien's eyes and forced a smile of agreement, though she did not trust her voice to speak said agreement.

“I hope to be half as happy,” Josie volunteered, “and my sister too when she has found the right gentleman.”

“Would you excuse me for just a moment, ladies and gentlemen? I believe my husband is trying to attract my attention,” Emma said, rising.

She crossed the room towards Damien. The circle around him parted for her. She held his gaze, willing him to see what was in her mind.

She had not been able to get him alone since yesterday when his mood had so suddenly shifted. Not since he returned from Silas Sutherland’s house with Josie. She would get to the bottom of this, but while her guests were still in attendance, she could not speak openly.

“I missed my husband and simply had to be near him,” she said with a sweet smile.

It attracted complimentary chirpings from all around them.

“Damien, would you be able to spare me a moment? Just a moment. There is a matter that we had both quite forgotten about,” Emma said.

“I shall hold the fort here, Your Grace,” Sir Thomas said helpfully.

“It would be rude to leave our guests, especially after such short notice with our invitations,” Damien replied, formally.

“I am sure they will understand. We are new to society and still learning the rules of the ton. Let us be daring and different,” Emma countered, taking his hand.

“There is daring and there is rude. We must remember our basic courtesy to our friends. Lord Dalrymple here has come a long way to join us. From Brighton, have you not, my lord?” Damien remarked.

“Why yes, from Brighton this morning by coach,” Lord Dalrymple said, seeming pleased to be included.

“Nevertheless, I have not had an opportunity to speak to my husband alone all day.”

“There will be every opportunity when afternoon tea is over and all have returned to their own homes, do you not think?” Damien whispered.

He did not relinquish her hand but did not move to follow her either. Emma felt frustrated, locking eyes with him. His fingers squeezed hers as though he sought to hold onto her. But there was a wall behind his eyes that she could not break through.

Emma wanted to scream.

What are you trying to tell me? Why do you hold onto me so fiercely and yet behave as though you do not want me at all?

“Very well. You are quite right,” Emma laughed awkwardly, dredging the emotion from somewhere deep within. Or at least the semblance of that emotion.

“By the way, I was talking to Lord Ashville here about a promising business enterprise,” Damien said absently, “I agreed to discuss the matter further with him this evening over dinner. I hope you don't mind if I am absent for one night.”

Fear gripped Emma, but she tightened her grip equally on her husband's hand. Felt the answering squeeze. A silent communication between the two of them that she did not understand.

She moved closer to him, taking his arm as a new lady joined their circle and began chattering. Damien looked as though he were listening intently and Emma put on the same facade. But as she glanced up at him, she caught him glancing back at her. She smiled at him hopefully and saw the ghost of a response before it was crushed behind a stony visage.

Damien shifted so that one arm was hidden from the rest of the group behind Emma. He touched her back. It sent a shiver from the small of her back to her hair and she bit her lip as she nodded and smiled. He ran his fingers up her back, eliciting a tremble in her. She pressed herself to his side as discreetly as she could, wanting the contact but knowing the need to hide that want in a public setting like this.

She spoke, playing her part in the conversation. Damien did too. Even smiled. Tension thrummed between them. Emma sensed his need for her. It was as though he fought that need, weighing it against whatever this new imperative was.

“Promise, Lord May? Of course, I will promise to attend your daughter's debut next year. I should be delighted and always keep my promises,” Emma said, in response to a question.

“We do, unless circumstances force us otherwise,” Damien put in.

“Of course, though I cannot foresee a circumstance that would lead to the breaking of our word,” Emma replied, directing her response to Lord May who bowed his head in agreement, “and I am sure I speak for His Grace too,” Emma continued.

“You do,” Damien beamed.

“And you may rely upon the word of the Duke of Redmane,” Emma added, intending her words to bite even as she smiled through them.

Damien's hand pressed again at the small of her back, rubbing in a small circle that she had always liked. Emma regretted her veiled barb but had not been able to help herself.

“Redmane is an honorable house and will always be,” Damien nodded.

Emma pushed it further. “For example. My husband recently promised me an end to his endless travels up and down England for business. That he would leave his father's legacy be. And here we are, hosting our new friends instead of visiting dusty old mills.”

“But business cannot be ignored, dearest,” Damien insisted gently. “My father left behind a legacy which I am sure all will agree is significant.”

That brought a rumble of assent from the men, keen to show their knowledge of markets, economics, and business by agreeing with a statement made by another without the need to voice their own.

“I cannot ignore that legacy. I must attend to it,” Damien uttered, looking at everyone but Emma.

“Must you? I would hate to see you burned by the fire of your dedication,” Emma countered suavely. “Such things can happen, I am told, when a man puts too much of himself into an endeavor.”

“Moderation in all things, eh?” Sir Thomas said into a momentary silence as Emma and Damien looked at each other.

“Moderation can lead to mediocrity. There are times when one must commit, body and soul, to an enterprise and see it through to the end,” Damien finished bluntly.

His tone and words were jarring next to the vapid emptiness of the conversation from the other ladies and gentlemen. They glared at each other until Sir Thomas broke the silence.

“ Hear hear . An excellent point,” he said, dutifully.

Emma saw the door to the drawing room open and Elsie peek around it. Emma met her maid’s eyes who beckoned discreetly.

“Would you all excuse me for just a moment? I am needed,” she said slowly.

She walked across the room gracefully, while inside, she roiled.

He speaks as though he never made me the promise that he would give up this mad quest for revenge. Commit body and soul? Have I not done that for him?

Elsie disappeared into the next room and Emma closed the door behind them.

“Elsie? You came all the way from Redmane? Is Harold well?”

“No, I am afraid he’s not, though he will not admit it. He has a fever and I have persuaded him to take to his bed. But, I'm not just here to tell you that. This is the first chance I've had to get away. You must know what your husband is planning, Lady Emma!”

Ice gripped Emma's heart. She clapped her hands together in front of herself, bracing for whatever news was now to come.

“I believe he owns property at Wapping, here in town. If it is Wapping, and that's what I heard him say, then it's warehouses and wharves owned by his father. Lady Emma, tonight he means to go there and destroy it. He's going to burn it all down!”

Emma clutched Elsie's shoulders in alarm.

“How do you know this? You say that you heard? How? Where?”

“At Redmane, yesterday. I was sent out of the room while tending to Harry. But I listened at the door. They talked about there only being one property left of the old Duke and that was at Wapping. After that, Harry will renounce his claim to the Dukedom and Redmane will be sold. The Duke will be going to live in America or India or somewhere.”

He once said as much to me. Does he intend to take me with him? Was all of this a dalliance to entertain him while he awaited the chance to complete his revenge?

Emma could not bring herself to believe that. But she would not have said that Damien was a man who broke promises easily. It had taken a lot for him to break the promise he had made to his brother after all.

“Do you know where Wapping is?” Emma asked.

“Of course. It’s in the east end. Why?”

“We'll find a map in the library and you can show me. I am going there when Damien does. I believe it will be tonight.”

“It will, they said as much. Wapping will burn, they said, tomorrow night . And that's tonight,” Elsie concluded, “but you're not going there alone, Lady Emma. It’s a rat's nest, them wharves, especially at night. It’s not safe.”

“I don't care. I intend to stop him doing what he plans. I will not see my husband dead or hung for an arsonist. This madness must stop tonight. And if preventing it means that he rejects me...”

Emma could not complete the sentence. Elsie took her hands.

“I'll come with you. I can't read maps anyhow. But I know the streets. Harry will be angry with me that I aided you. So maybe we'll both be rejected by Redmane men, eh?”