Page 20 of Duke of Emeralds (Dukes of Decadence #2)

T he needle pricked Hester’s finger just as the footman’s announcement cut through the afternoon quiet.

“Your Grace, the Duchesses of Copperton and Craton, and Lady Nancy Gallagher.” Her embroidery hoop clattered to the floor, the half-finished blanket for the orphanage forgotten.

Hester was already halfway to the foyer before she registered moving, her slippers whispering over polished oak.

“Oh!” The sight of Anna’s warm smile, Fiona’s serene glow, and Nancy’s irrepressible grin sent a rush of pure delight through her.

“What an impeccable surprise!” She flung her arms around Anna first, breathing in the familiar scent of violets and parchment, then Fiona, whose embrace felt softer, fuller.

“At least she’s not sending us away for dropping unannounced on her honeymoon,” Nancy declared, already unwinding her scarf with theatrical flair.

Hester pulled back, arching an eyebrow at her friend though her own lips twitched upwards.

“That depends entirely on how you behave, Nancy. There’s still time.

” The shared laughter that followed felt like sunlight warming her skin after weeks of cool propriety.

As she embraced Fiona again, her hand inadvertently brushed the slight, firm curve beneath her friend’s high-waisted muslin dress.

Hester drew back, eyes widening. “Oh my! You’re beginning to show, dear! ”

Fiona’s hand rested protectively over her stomach, a beatific smile transforming her face.

“The little lord or lady grows at an alarming rate. I thought to seize every opportunity for travel before I’m quite thrown into confinement.

” She shifted slightly, a faint blush rising on her cheeks.

“Might you direct me to the retiring room? This little investor makes rather urgent demands.”

Anna, already eyeing the biscuit plate a footman carried towards the drawing room, selected a macaroon. “Only if that baby doesn’t confine you to the chamber pot first, dearest.” Fiona shot Anna a look that mingled affection and exasperation before following Hester’s gesture down the hallway.

“Come,” Hester urged, linking arms with Anna and Nancy, steering them towards the comfort of the blue drawing room.

The weight of Nancy’s familiar grip and Anna’s solid presence beside her eased a tension in her shoulders she hadn’t fully acknowledged.

She gave the bellpull a firm tug. “I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to see you all,” she confessed, sinking onto the silk-covered settee.

The truth of it settled deep in her chest, a warm, expanding relief.

Anna settled beside her, smoothing her skirts. “Our husbands were bound for the country on tedious business—fields, investments, the usual masculine preoccupations. We merely commandeered their carriages for a restorative escape from the suffocating air of Town.”

“And when I discovered their dastardly plot to abandon me,” Nancy chimed in, snatching two lemon cakes from the arriving tray before the footman could set it down, “I became their most determined stowaway. Resistance was futile.”

Hester laughed, the sound bright and genuine, surprising even herself. “I never saw anyone so delighted to be a third wheel.”

“Fifth wheel,” Anna corrected smoothly, her eyes dancing with mischief as she accepted a cup of tea Hester poured. “Two carriages, two devoted couples, and Nancy. An entirely superfluous wheel yet somehow essential to the contraption.”

Nancy waved a dismissive hand, sending cake crumbs cascading onto the Persian rug. “Pish! Superfluous? I’d have haunted your very hallways, Hester, rattling the china, if they’d dared leave me moldering in London.” Fiona reappeared just as Nancy finished, taking the seat beside Anna.

Hester poured Fiona’s tea, the fragrant steam curling upwards.

As she passed the delicate Sèvres cup, she leaned forward conspiratorially. “Careful with the tea, darling. We wouldn’t wish another urgent retreat upon you quite so soon.”

Anna and Nancy dissolved into immediate, unladylike peals of laughter. Fiona’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage, but a second later, her own shoulders began to shake, and she joined in, her laughter mingling with her friends’.

“You’re next, Hester. And when you find yourself in this condition, you’ll understand precisely what it feels like.” Fiona gave her small bump a tender pat.

The words landed like a physical blow. Hester’s knuckles whitened around the delicate handle of her teacup.

A jagged shard of longing pierced her—the phantom weight of a child in her arms, the whisper-soft brush of infant hair against her cheek.

The image was so vivid, so wanted , it stole her breath.

Reality crashed in, cold and stark. Her marriage was a transaction.

Children were the price paid for emotional safety, a necessary sacrifice to guard her fragile heart.

Yet the disappointment that flooded her was real, a bitter tang coating her tongue.

She forced a smile that felt brittle, focusing on the floral pattern swirling in her cup.

“Why, I think she already has that glow, don’t you think, Anna?” Nancy leaned forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over Hester’s face.

Anna tilted her head, a conspiratorial glint in her eye as she winked at Nancy. “Oh, probably a touch early for such signs, my dear, but who truly knows? These things can be quite unpredictable.” Fiona, momentarily distracted by a blueberry lemon cookie, nodded vigorously, crumbs dusting her lap.

“Who knows indeed?” Fiona swallowed her bite. “For all it takes, sometimes, is once.” Her smile was innocent, teasing.

The air grew thick. Hester set her cup down with a sharp clink that silenced the light chatter.

“None of that,” she stated, her voice flat, “will be happening.” The finality of it hung heavily between them.

The laughter died instantly. Anna’s playful expression vanished.

Nancy’s teasing scrutiny turned to worry.

Fiona’s hand froze halfway to another cookie, her eyes wide. The cheerful atmosphere evaporated.

Anna reached across the space between settees, her voice soft. “Why, Hester dear? Is everything quite all right?”

Hester drew a slow, steadying breath. She couldn’t meet their eyes, focusing on the intricate weave of the Persian rug.

The words felt like stones. “Our marriage… Thomas’ and mine…

it is one of convenience. Strictly so.” She forced herself to lift her gaze.

“Separate chambers. Separate lives, once the required appearances are met.” A strange ache bloomed beneath her breastbone.

Why did admitting the arrangement she’d chosen suddenly feel like a loss?

Anna recovered first, her expression softening. She exchanged a swift glance with Fiona. “It could start off very uncertain, I understand that,” Anna said gently. “Many such arrangements do. But Hester, they often change. They grow into something… more.”

Fiona shifted closer, earnest concern replacing merriment. She squeezed Hester’s clenched hand. “I’ve been there, Hester,” she murmured. “Truly, I understand. But like Anna says, it will change. Given time, feelings can?—”

“No!” The word burst from Hester. She pulled her hand back, spine rigid.

“You don’t understand.” Her voice trembled.

“This was my choice. What I wanted. What I needed. It stands.” The declaration sounded hollow.

Treacherous memories flooded her—the dizzying closeness in the shadowed library, the charged silence after the lake, the warmth of his hand at the ball.

She wanted something dangerous. She had to rein it in.

Fiona leaned back, her gaze searching Hester’s face. Her voice was quiet. “And the Duke… he agreed to this… choice of yours?”

Hester could only manage a stiff nod, her throat constricting around her turmoil.

The curious glances exchanged between her friends— Anna’s slight frown, Fiona’s thoughtful tilt of the head, Nancy’s raised eyebrow—spoke volumes of their skepticism, a heavy, unspoken question hanging in the air thick with their concern.

Relief flooded her, cool and temporary, as they mercifully let the subject lie. She smoothed her skirts, a pointless gesture, seeking an anchor. “I should have rooms prepared for you,” she offered, the words too loud in the sudden quiet, a desperate lifeline back to mundane hospitality.

Anna waved a dismissive hand, her smile returning though it didn’t quite reach her watchful eyes. “Oh no, you needn’t trouble yourself. We’ve perfectly comfortable arrangements at the inn. We shan’t dream of intruding upon your honeymoon.”

“Absolutely not,” Fiona agreed quickly while Nancy nodded, momentarily subdued.

“Well then,” Hester insisted, leaning forward, needing the connection of this plan, “you simply must let me host you all to dinner. Perhaps on Saturday evening?”

The genuine warmth returned to their faces. “Capital!” Anna declared.

“We shall tell our husbands immediately,” Fiona said, her earlier excitement resurfacing.

“And I,” Nancy announced, plucking another biscuit with renewed vigor, “shall prepare my stomach for the free feast. Benefits of being perpetually unattached, you see.”

Anna chuckled. “Perks of befriending wealthy, married women, you mean.”

“Precisely!” Nancy grinned, popping the biscuit whole into her mouth. Laughter, lighter this time, filled the room again, easing the lingering tension Hester carried in her shoulders.

At dinner, Hester traced the rim of her wineglass, watching her husband. The candlelight danced across his solid profile, giving him an appearance so striking she felt a flutter in her stomach. She cleared her throat.

“They brought such life to the house today,” she ventured, her voice softer than intended. “Anna, Fiona, Nancy. It was… wonderful to see them.”

Thomas looked up from his plate, his gaze meeting hers. A genuine smile softened the usual intensity of his features. “Aye, it was. Unexpected but a welcome diversion.” He took a sip of claret. “Their energy is infectious.”

Hester drew a small breath, steeling herself. “What do you think about hosting them? For dinner? I suggested Saturday evening, four days hence, and they readily agreed.”

His smile widened, reaching his eyes, making the candlelight catch the flecks of amber within the hazel.

“An excellent notion. The more the merrier. We’ll show them Lushton hospitality properly.

” The warmth in his approval was palpable, a comforting counterpoint to the disquiet still humming within her.

Encouraged, she added, “And I shall be visiting the orphanage tomorrow afternoon. Mrs. Bellweather wrote; the children need their new blankets.”

“Excellent,” Thomas nodded, his expression approving. “They’ll be glad of them before the chill sets in properly.” As he spoke, the butler appeared soundlessly at his elbow, presenting a thick, cream-colored missive on a silver salver.

Thomas took it, breaking the seal with a thumbnail. He scanned the contents, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Ah,” he said, holding it up. “The grand Alderton ball. Next Friday.”

Hester’s fork stilled halfway to her lips. “You were expecting it?” She kept her voice carefully neutral.

“On the contrary,” he replied, setting the invitation beside his plate.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, his focus entirely on her.

“Craton and Copperton mentioned the Alderton house party earlier, and the ball that concludes it. They arrived ahead of schedule, remember?”

His eyes held hers, bright with eagerness. “It would be our first public outing since the wedding. A chance to be seen together properly, as Duke and Duchess.” The anticipation in his voice was clear, a vibrant thread woven through his words.

Hester forced her fingers to unclench from her fork.

The silver felt cold against her skin. The image of her friends’ skeptical faces flashed before her, followed by the memory of her own brittle declaration: Separate chambers.

Separate lives. The Alderton ball suddenly loomed, not as a glittering occasion but as a stage where their carefully constructed facade would be tested under the brightest lights.

A cold dread, entirely at odds with Thomas’ open enthusiasm, began to pool in her stomach.