Page 6 of A Duke to Undo her (The Husband Hunt #1)

Chapter Four

“Can you believe the arrogance of that man!?” Josephine asked her friends furiously after describing the encounter in the park and her subsequent more civilized, and far less emotionally disturbing tea, with Benedict Emerton at Elmridge House.

Josephine, Rose and Madeline were lounging together in the gardens of Hollington Hall in Highgate, the main residence of Madeline’s father, the long-widowed Earl of Hollington.

“Tell me again what Benedict Emerton was wearing,” pleaded Lady Rose, far more interested in that gentleman’s outfitting than Josephine’s more impassioned railing against the angry duke.

“Oh, a light grey summer suit, perfectly pressed linen and a white gardenia at his buttonhole,” Josephine rattled off absently, to Rose’s contented sigh. “His boots were very well polished too. I swear I could almost see my reflection in them.”

Close by, Madeline’s younger sister Melinda was pushing herself happily on a swing, her feet almost touching the sky with each forward motion.

It made Josephine a touch envious to watch the young girl.

How wonderful to be only thirteen years of age, in short skirts and allowed to play freely without being constantly judged and reprimanded on posture, deportment and manners.

Still, Melinda too would have to learn the same lessons as Josephine soon enough, she supposed more compassionately. Let the girl swing freely while she could…

“Mr. Emerton was certainly far better dressed than that arrogant, interfering brother of his,” Josephine returned to her theme but was interrupted by Lady Madeline before she could add any further insults to Cassius Emerton.

“He is the Duke of Ashbourne,” Madeline pointed out to Josephine. “He has title, fortune and a most honorable and dutiful reputation. Some would say he had the right to a little arrogance.”

“But surely not the right to come between two fated lovers,” Rose protested. “If Josephine and Benedict love one another, it can’t be right to obstruct them.”

“That is exactly what I think,” Josephine agreed with an emphatic nod, not really quite as naive as Rose but enjoying the fun of adopting this attitude. “Anyway, Mr. Emerton is a grown man of two-and-twenty and the duke should not think to direct his life.”

“Fated lovers?” said Madeline with smiling incredulity. “You’ve met Mr. Emerton three times, Josephine. Isn’t that description a little too dramatic?”

Josephine shrugged off this unwanted reminder on the limited nature and short duration of this acquaintance.

“That doesn’t signify when one is in love,” she sniffed and Madeline laughed.

Despite her cynicism over romance and careful manners, a kindly humor often infused her relatively plain features when she took starry-eyed Rose or playful Josephine to task, and the latter could never really resent her.

“I think you would be better trying to understand the Duke of Ashbourne than opposing him,” Madeline advised Josephine now. “You see him as interfering in Mr. Emerton’s life but I suspect his actions are motivated by love for his brother rather than any dubious motive.”

“Yes, I already know that their father died when Mr. Emerton was very young so that their relationship is more paternal than fraternal,” Josephine said casually.

“It’s not so very unusual, is it? I mean, I was raised by my older sisters.

Melinda over there probably doesn’t even remember your mother taking care of her, Madeline, only you. Why excuse the duke on that account?”

“It was different for the Emerton sons,” insisted Madeline. “My father still lives and your family has always been large and loving enough to compensate for your parents’ loss. You had Constance, Ophelia and Vera, and all your other relatives. They only had one another.”

“But what of the Dowager Duchess of Ashbourne?” Rose asked curiously. “She is still alive and even stays in London with her sons sometimes. I’ve seen her at concerts in the Argyll Rooms.”

Madeline nodded but looked knowingly at her friends, evidently having greater familiarity with the Emerton family history than either Josephine or Rose.

“Dowager Duchess Nerissa may be part of her sons’ lives now, but after her husband died so suddenly…

she was a broken woman. I heard that she almost lost her mind with grief and had to be nursed around the clock by her sister for many years.

Benedict Emerton was only nine years old when he effectively lost both parents. ”

“Poor Mr. Emerton,” Rose cried out. “How hard for him!”

“How hard for both sons,” clarified Madeline. “Cassius Emerton had to become a man and take up his father’s responsibilities for the duchy and for his brother at sixteen years of age, with little preparation, no warning, and only lawyers and agents for support. He had no chance to be a boy at all.”

For a moment, Josephine understood the Duke of Ashbourne’s lack of patience with the mischievous sons of Lady Gordenford. At sixteen, he had been running an estate and raising a child rather than playing tricks with seltzer water. Then, her indignance returned.

“Well, brother or father, it is still past time that the duke loosened the apron strings,” Josephine said.

“I don’t believe that Mr. Emerton will tolerate much more from his brother and I have no intention of staying away from the man I…

I’m destined for. Cassius Emerton will have to accept that, whether he likes it or not. ”

“Remember, Josephine, that your well-dressed Benedict is not just the Duke of Ashbourne’s brother but also his heir.

The duke wants Benedict to be ready and prepared for the responsibilities of the Ashbourne estate in a way he himself was not.

You can’t blame him for wishing Benedict to have a steady, dutiful kind of wife with a perfect reputation.

Cassius Emerton is thinking of the duchy. ”

“Oh, he’s only heir until Duke Cassius persuades some mousy and unassuming lady to marry him and produce sons, surely. I expect that’s his type. Such considerations need not be an issue for long in my marriage to Benedict Emerton.”

Madeline chuckled and shook her head at this careless confidence from Josephine.

“Really, Josephine, you ought to ask around more about a family you plan to marry into. There is so much you don’t know about them.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Josephine uneasily.

“Well, to begin with, the Duke of Ashbourne does not intend to marry. He actually wants Benedict to remain his heir and for Benedict’s sons to carry on the dukedom after them. Everyone knows it.”

“I thought all noblemen had to marry,” Rose puzzled innocently.

“My aunt told me that some are confirmed bachelors who prefer the company of other men, but even they must marry against their inclination. She warned me off Lord Merling last year, if you remember, even though he wears the most divinely tailored clothing and always has fresh flowers in his buttonhole.”

“Oh yes,” Josephine recalled vaguely, not really wanting to be diverted from the subject of the Emerton brothers but also not wishing to slight Rose. “Lord Merling’s buttonholes are undoubtedly the finest in London.”

“Aunt Margaret said he would never put any woman above his friend Lord Perford and that I should find myself very unhappy if I married him,” Rose continued.

"Father agreed and I’ve barely thought of him since so it can’t have been true love anyway.

Maybe Cassius Emerton is like Lord Merling and Lord Perford? ”

Madeline coughed, choking back her laughter at Rose’s incomplete understanding.

More sensible and pragmatic, and therefore more often taken into the confidence of older ladies of the ton, her own outlook on the world and its denizens was better informed than Rose’s.

Josephine lay somewhere between the two, with greater instinctive intelligence than Rose, but less interest in the practicalities of life than Madeline.

“No, I am quite sure that Cassius Emerton is not like Lord Merling, Rose,” Madeline told her friend with twinkling eyes. “I have heard that there are several widowed ladies of the ton who would laugh at this idea even harder than I.”

“What do you mean?” Rose replied, her sky-blue eyes puzzled while Josephine and Madeline shared a glance of mutual comprehension.

“I believe Madeline means that the Duke of Ashbourne likes women well enough but is not looking for a wife and never intends to,” Josephine translated with a rather unhappy smile. “Well, it all seems very unfair to Benedict, I must say. I imagine he has never asked to be heir to the duchy.”

“None of us chooses our families, Josephine, do we?” Madeline returned pointedly. “It’s just how things are. In my view, the Emerton family are all far too complicated and you really would be best served by simply finding a simpler man to fall in love with.”

“Will someone help me twist the swing around?” Melinda called out. “It’s hard to twist it up to the top by myself and I want to spin.”

“You talk as though it’s only like buying a new horse or dog and picking one over another when someone else points out a quirk in its bloodline,” complained Josephine to Madeline, laughing, before she jumped up and called over to Melinda. “I’ll come and help!”

“It’s exactly like that,” Madeline insisted, following Josephine over to the swing and leaning against the tree with folded arms. “Is Benedict Emerton really so special? Could you honestly not find five other equally amiable and handsome gentlemen at any major ball or while walking at busy times in Hyde Park?”

Josephine thought this over silently while she twisted the swing for Melinda. She did like Mr. Emerton for his personality too. It was not quite as straightforward as Madeline thought.

“But if Josephine was destined to marry Benedict Emerton then everyone would be miserable if she chose someone else,” said starry-eyed Rose, having trailed after her friends. “You can’t ignore fate, Madeline, surely. We can’t choose who we fall in love with.”

“Maybe we can’t choose exactly, but we do have some degree of control,” Madeline disagreed. “We should certainly stay away from people and situations that do us no good. You are a darling, Rose, but I do worry for your future with such beliefs.”

As her friends spoke, Josephine released the swing, smiling at Melinda’s breathless laughter as she spun around and around.

“You could probably pick five similar random gentlemen out in the park for me, Madeline,” she answered at last. “But I would doubtless find that they were too messy, clumsy or sweaty. Most men are.”

Briefly, the image of the Duke of Ashbourne flashed across Josephine’s mind as he had been in St. James’s Park earlier that week, flushed with feeling, damp with perspiration and untidy-looking beside his well-groomed brother. Her stomach contracted sharply in what she took for a negative reaction.

“Again! Again, please, Josephine!” pleaded Melinda and Josephine nodded.

“Very well, but only if I can have a turn too,” she told the girl and began twisting the swing’s rope again as Lucinda sat on the seat.

Madeline shook her head ruefully both at Josephine’s words and her sister’s game.

“I believe you’re in love with the idea of Benedict Emerton rather than the real man himself, Josephine,” she accused. "Only the heroes of novels escape being messy, clumsy and sweaty sometimes. Men are only…well, men. They’re all human and fallible, you know.”

“No, I insist that Benedict Emerton is perfect in every way,” insisted Josephine with a grin.

“My favorite novelist could not have written a better husband. He is so good-mannered and jolly and no one can deny that he has wonderful hair. Vera and Norman think he’s lovely too and have said he may call for tea whenever they’re at home. ”

“You make him sound like a friendly dog,” commented Madeline but then shrugged as if giving up any attempt to convince Josephine further.

“Well, if you are quite determined to wed Benedict Emerton, I think your best hope is to convince his brother that you could be the perfect Duchess of Ashbourne.”

Josephine had now taken Melinda’s place on the wooden seat and the girl was twisting her round and round.

Madeline’s comment about Benedict Emerton didn’t offend her, Josephine herself having privately compared him to a handsome pet dog who would look well at her side and keep her company.

That last remark about the duke did disturb her equanimity, however.

“Convince Cassius Emerton that I’m perfect duchess material?” Josephine considered with a frown as she turned, certainly not immediately convinced or comfortable with the idea. “How on earth would I do that? I swear, he already regards me as some kind of she-devil.”

Madeline looked askance at her friend as Melinda released the swing and Josephine spun round and round with her feet in the air and her peals of laughter ringing across the garden.

“For a start, show more dignity than this around the Duke of Ashbourne,” Madeline told her with mock severity. “Do not rise to arguments but overcome them by your ladylike behavior. Show him that he is wrong rather than seeking to triumph over his will.”

“Gosh, I don’t think even you would have the patience to behave like such a perfect lady with Cassius Emerton,” Josephine protested as she put her feet back down on the ground again and vacated the swing for young Melinda once more.

“It’s not like speaking to any other man, somehow.

He has this way of…getting under my skin. I can’t quite explain it.”

“If you wish to win the duke’s blessing for a marriage with Benedict, you will have to overcome your distaste for him,” Madeline stated firmly.

“Believe me, there is no other way. Oh, the church bells are ringing four o’clock.

I remind Father that we are going to the theatre tonight.

He does tend to fall asleep after his tea. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Perfect lady, my foot,” muttered Josephine to herself as Madeline walked back towards the house. “He’s the one who’s at fault, not me. But I bet I could be a perfect lady if I tried.”

“I’m sure you could,” Rose assured her, putting an arm about her waist as they both watched Melinda swinging again. “Just act like Madeline or your sisters. Then he will understand that you are the right woman for Benedict and all will be well.”

“Yes, suppose I could do that,” Josephine replied with a dubious sigh. “I could try anyway.”