Page 123 of A Dashing Duke for Emily

“Of course, how can we pass up being waited on hand and foot?” Trent insisted. “And it gives me more time withTeresa.”

“I promise, once all this craziness is over, we will sit down over a goodcuppaand gossip until the weehours.”

“Pinky promise?” Fannyinsisted.

“Absolutely.”

“But not on your wedding night,” Trent said with awink.

“I promise we will find time,” Emilysaid.

Emily returned to Mark and the Duchess. They were continuing to chat with guests, as Emily took Mark’s arm and snuggled up close to kiss hisshoulder.

Emily knew she would never be able to remember the names of all the new people she was meeting and found that she was getting very tired. She turned and whispered to Mark. “Can we take a break? I am becoming tired and I desperately need to either dance a waltz with you or have a cup oftea.”

Mark laughed. “Even better. Let us retire for a short while and let me show you our quarters. I have had all of your things moved from your room to what will now be our newhome.”

She smiled. “Yes, I should likethat.”

Mark excused them from the gathered group and he led her into the house, up the staircase, and to theirsuite.

He showed her, her own private quarters, her dressing room and bath, and the master bedroom where they nowstood.

“Are you nervous about us being together tonight?” heasked.

She looked up at him, and answered, “A little. But I know that with our love there is nothing tofear.”

At that moment, the orchestra struck up a waltz that drifted up from the lawn below and went into the bedroom. Mark cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Your Grace, would you care to dance this waltz withme?”

Emily tilted her head to the left and said, “Why, thank you, Your Grace, I should enjoy that verymuch.”

Mark then took her right hand with his left and placed his other hand on her lower back and they waltzed, the lightness of her gown sweeping the floor as they dipped and circled around theroom.

* * *

Emily sat alone at her exceptional, but unaccustomed, piano. Her life was beginning anew. Later that afternoon, she and Mark were to depart for the London house prior to leaving for the coast to take the boat to France for theirhoneymoon.

But was it only this morning she bid goodbye to Fanny and Trent, and hugged her sisters, and held on especially long to her Mother and Papa before letting them return in their new carriage—waving farewell with her handkerchief as they disappeared around the bend in thedriveway?

The music room was so quiet—so unlike her old home with so much music of activity going on around her. Her sisters singing or humming in some upstairs room. Her mother banging pots or pans in the kitchen or scolding Molly for some mishap. Her father rhythmically raking the newly fallen leaves in the back garden. A vendor in the street calling out his wares. But here, in this room, there was barely a whisper. Not even the ticking of a mantleclock.

To break the silence, Emily started up the metronome and began to play a simple tune from her now, long gone childhood and hummedalong.

And, as she hummed, she remembered waking up this very morning in the arms of her new husband. When she woke, she could not remember where she was for a split second, but then did, and snuggled up even closer to the man she loved so dearly. And, as she was still half asleep, she realized there would be many more such mornings and, before she knew it, she had drifted back into a willowy, shifting, half-forgottendream.

TheEnd?