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“That he looks like a pirate, no?” Allister asked jovially.

Emily waited to see a spark of recognition, a wink or a nod that might convey that they had both spent the last eight months writing the most intimate details of love and yearning to one another, but Allister watched her with nothing but friendly humor, waiting for her to answer.

“I suppose, he does look a little like a pirate,” she said, her cheeks warming, though whether it was due to Allister’s words or Gregory’s intense stare, she didn’t know. This certainly wasn’t the first thing she thought she would be discussing with Allister upon his return.

Gregory’s head dipped a fraction.

“Then perhaps I’ll shave if the general consensus is that I have the guise of a criminal.”

Emily wanted to tell him not to, but she wouldn’t argue against the duchess’s opinion. At least, not in her presence.

For now, she was focused on Allister.

“Let us have luncheon and you both can tell us about your journey from London,” the dowager said, waving to signal to one of the servants.

“I’m afraid I’ll be taking a tray in my office,” Allister said to everyone.

“Why is that?”

“I have a meeting with the estate manager and while I’ve tried to keep up with his correspondences, I’m afraid I’m completely uninterested in something unless it is directly in front of me.”

Emily frowned at that.

“Oh, but you’ve only just arrived,” the duchess pouted.

“And if you wish for me to attend your party tomorrow, I must take care of this business at once.” He nodded to them. “I look forward to speaking with you all tomorrow.”

And with that, he was gone.

The collective breath that the dowager, Emily, and her mother had been holding dissipated. Always observant, Gergory glanced from Emily to his mother to Mrs. Corning.

“What’s going on?”

“Mhm? Oh nothing.” The dowager waved her hand.

But Gregory wasn’t convinced. He gazed back at Emily, whose nerves had finally settled down at the departure of Allister.

“Tell me.”

Emily opened her mouth, but the dowager spoke instead.

“It’s nothing you need be concerned with, my darling.”

“Then why not tell me?”

“Because you’ll likely think we’ve all come together to conspire against your brother and really, we haven’t. It’s his own doing, actually.”

Alert, Gregory’s gaze bounced from one to the other.

“What is?”

“Well…” his mother stated. “Your brother and Miss Corning have developed something of a, friendship, in their correspondence.”

To Gregory’s credit, he did not appear surprised or even concerned. In fact, his face was completely immobile.

“It’s not…” Emily began, instantly unsure. “I’m sure I’ve overestimated—”

“Nonsense, Emily,” her mother said. “There’s no use in denying it. Every time a letter would arrive from the duke, you would smile for days. Anyone who’s been in love before knows that sparkle in your eye.”

“Mama, please.”

Emily felt exposed to her mother’s words, but then it wasn’t like they hadn’t been discussing the possibility of marriage between Emily and the duke for the past few months.

In fact, it made perfect sense that the duke would go to the continent in an effort to sow his wild oats and settle down when he arrived home.

And then there were the letters he sent to his mother.

“Not to mention that he has written to me, several times, about his desire to settle down upon his return.”

“Allister wrote that to you?” Gregory asked, his voice suddenly gruff.

“Yes, and when Mrs. Corning told me about how delighted Emily became whenever his letters arrived, well, we mused that he was talking about marrying Emily, of course.”

“Of course,” he repeated, though his tone suggested the opposite. He turned to Emily. “And so the three of you have come up with a plot of sorts?”

“No, of course not,” Emily said, coming forward.

“But you’ve discussed these letters with your mother?”

“No! Er, I mean, that is, in part,” she said, mortified.

“In part?” he challenged her.

“Stop harassing the poor girl, Gregory,” his mother said as she turned to Emily’s mother. “Come, Kathrine. Let’s away to the dining room. All this nonsense has left me peckish.” The duchess and Emily’s mother, arm in arm, walked towards the door, but stopped before exiting. “Are you coming, Emily?”

“No, thank you. I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite at the moment.”

“Do not be overemotional, my dear. Allister will attend to things in the order in which they need to be attended. In the meantime, frowning never solved anything.”

“Of course,” Emily said, smiling as her mother and the dowager left the room. Emily turned around to face Gregory, who was watching her intently. Her smile faded. She held up her hands and spoke before he had a chance to. “I know you aren’t pleased with me.”

“You know that, do you?”

She sighed.

“Yes, I do. You’re annoyed with me, likely because Allister and I kept this situation from you. And I’m sure the fact that our mothers are aware of it also doesn’t sit well with you.”

“You’re correct upon that point.”

“But it wasn’t my fault. Mama wouldn’t stop inquiring about his letters whenever they would arrive and evidently, I’m a poor actor, because I couldn’t keep my emotions from being displayed on my face.”

“I see. And have you shared these letters with your mother?”

Emily’s cheeks burned even at the thought of doing that.

“Goodness, no.”

For a moment, Gregory seemed as if he didn’t believe her. After a moment, however, the corner of his mouth hitched up and Emily’s pulse rose. It had been far too long since last she saw this man smile.

“And your mother became aware of your infatuation because you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling?”

She glared at him.

“I’m aware of what a fool I am, believe me. Once Mama mentioned it to the duchess, well, it just sort of mounted and soon they were dreaming up their own versions of this situation and it was impossible to stop them. You know how they are.”

“I do,” Gregory said, nodding. “They’ve more friendship between them than what is healthy, the meddling twosome that they are.” Emily nodded firmly in agreement. “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that they’re privy to what should be a private matter. Between you and Allister, I mean.”

“I’m aware of how it appears, but I promise, Gregory, it just sort of happened,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

“At first, I was only writing out of friendship. To both of you. In fact, I believe the first few letters I sent to you were nearly identical. But then…” One shoulder lifted as she shrugged. “It changed.”

“May I ask how?”

She shook her head.

“It was subtle at first. He would tell me about the social events you and he were attending. You know, the opera and the balls and parties and he’d make humorous little quips and anecdotes.

Well, whether he intended for them to be humorous or not, I’m not sure, but they made me smile.

” She did so now at the memory of them. “I asked him all sorts of questions, amazed and entertained by the world he was seeing. As you well know, Allister and I have never been terribly close. But reading his letters, it was as if I were there with him and I made a comment about how I wished I were there and he replied that he wished for that same thing. Our letters shifted that day, I believe. He told me, well…” Emily felt the blush return to her cheeks as her body warmed.

It didn’t feel right to confess all of this to Gregory.

Glancing up at him, Emily was somewhat startled by the penetrating gaze he was giving her. She instinctively squared her shoulders. “I’m afraid I’ve already shared too much.”

“The understatement of the decade.”

She frowned.

“I know what a delicate situation this has become, but I’m sure once I explain everything to Allister, he’ll forgive me for oversharing.”

“Are you so sure?” Gregory asked, one dark brow lifting. “Allister is an overtly private person. I can’t imagine he’d be too pleased about this information becoming public knowledge.”

“But it isn’t public. It’s not as if I’ve gone to the papers about it,” she argued. “It’s just that Mama and the duchess guessed at something and I couldn’t very well lie to either of them. Besides, they would be the first to know about it eventually.”

Gregory nodded slowly, though he appeared less than convinced.

“If that’s how you see it.”

Emily grimaced.

“You don’t think Allister will see it that way?”

Gregory didn’t answer. He shifted his weight and moved to walk around her, though as he did, Emily smelt the faint scent of moss and salty sea air. Unwittingly, she turned to follow him as he clasped his hands tightly behind his back and cleared his throat.

“I’m sure my brother will forgive the situation, once the matter is explained.”

Emily exhaled.

“Good.”

“But whether everyone is as forgiving remains to be seen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gregory shook his head.

“Nothing. Forgive me. The journey from London was a stressful one,” he said turning back to face her. “It’s good to see you, Emily.”

Guilt slammed into her. She had been so preoccupied with her problems that she had all but overlooked Gregory’s return.

She took a step forward.

“What a poor friend you must think I am. And truthfully, you are not wrong. I’ve been so worried about my own dealings that I haven’t even asked how you are.

Come,” she said, reaching for his forearm in an effort to pull him towards the settee.

“Tell me everything that has happened to you since your last letter.”

But Gregory was quick to bring his large hand over her delicate one and remove it. The gesture deflated Emily for some reason.

“As much as I would like to, I have been asked to welcome guests who are arriving tonight while Allister attends to the estate manager.”

“Oh yes,” she said, dejected. “Of course.”

“But I’m sure there will be plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves. Perhaps tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” she said as he walked towards the doorway. “Ah, Gregory?”

He paused, just before exiting.

“Yes?”

“Don’t shave your beard. I think it’s rather becoming on you.”

He appeared momentarily stunned by her words, although why, she did not know. It was the least she could say having not stood up for him when the duchess was teasing him.

“As you wish,” he said with a tight nod before leaving her all alone.

Something was the matter with him, she was sure of it. Perhaps he had found the topic of her and Allister’s relationship uncomfortable. Or maybe he knew something she didn’t…

No . No good thing could come from worrying about imaginary things. Rolling her shoulders back, she took a deep breath. All of this would be sorted out by the morning. She was sure of it.