Page 10 of Only a Fortnight with the Duke

CHAPTER 10

A fter dinner, the Duke of Blackwood was meant to retire to his home, but Lord Clark was persistent that he had not yet spent enough time with his new young friend, who had ben entertaining him in such earnest for the day.

“Very well. Then shall we go out to the opera tonight? I rarely use my box, and I am told by my friend, who has been using it in my absence, that I somehow acquired the best seats in the house.”

“That sounds divine! I don’t keep a box myself. I know that it is out of fashion, but we so rarely attend. My Emmeline prefers the written word, and I myself am taken to a good nap in my study.” Lord Clark laughed heartily. “I shall have the carriage drawn.”

“But Papa!” Emmeline protested, her cheeks flushed as she looked between the two men. “It is late. Surely the Duke has engagements in the morning, and he will have to take a longer journey home than we will. We can not accept, and ought to insist that His Grace go home at once. We have kept him entirely too long!”

“Not at all,” Simon interjected, his voice buttery smooth. His eyes were searching, skipping across the frenzied look of concern on Emmeline’s face. He knew what her true protest to the outing was the public statement that appearing with him in his box at the opera would make. “The Duke of Newbridge and his sister Mary will be there as well. It will be a grand party.”

He watched the worry in Emmeline’s eyes dim, though he knew that she was not placated entirely.

“It is settled, then! We will leave at once.”

At the opera house, Emmeline made George and Mary’s acquaintance. She sat beside Mary, at the end of the box’s window, and Simon sat on the other, next to a raucous and chatty Lord Clark. This vexxed the Duke of Blackwood, whose intention had been, at least in part, to make precisely the statement of intention that Lady Clark was so intent on avoiding.

“Lady Emmeline, do you find the Duke quite handsome?” whispered Mary, a young girl of just thirteen with pretty tawny curls and a handsome, soft face. She had been quite pleased to see Emmeline arrive, eager to have a companion she could speak more openly with than her brother, Emmeline supposed. The older girl found the young Lady Honeyfield to be quite sweet and mild-mannered with a youthful spirit.

“I think a great many young ladies find the Duke quite handsome, Lady Honeyfield,” she answered seriously. “But I dare say that a great many more find His Grace, Duke Newbridge, to be a fair bit more–”

“Lady Emmeline!” Mary squealed with quiet, whispered delight at Emmeline’s teasing. “I mean the Duke of Blackwood!”

Emmeline stifled her laughter and nodded, quietly, listening to the murmur of whispered conversation that played background to the music. Admittedly, she was happy to have agreed to spend the evening there. She found that the stage was decorated beautifully, that the performers were engaged and remarkably talented, and that it was much more interesting to observe people from an opera box. There was a challenge aspect to it that balls were lacking.

“Well, I am quite taken with him, yes,” Emmeline answered, truthfully. “Why is it that you ask?”

“I am only wondering what makes a lady like a man.”

“Oh, well, the answer is much more complex than whether or not he is handsome.”

“Must you also take into account his finances? George says that a man’s finances are hardly a mark of his character, but I rather think that a wealthier man ought to be more fun to be around. He should have more time for leisure and more money to pay for indulgences.”

Emmeline covered her mouth with a fan so Mary would not see her amusement so clearly. “Perhaps, but that is not always the case.”

“What else is there, then?” Mary demanded, a confused pout on her face.

“Oh, plenty. A man should have interests at least similar in nature to yours, or you will be bored of him quickly. He should be strong but not overbearing. And he should have a good heart.”

“Did you fall in love with the Duke because he had all of those things?”

Behind her fan, Emmeline’s eyes widened before she caught herself and smiled again. “Is it your hope to marry your true love?” she asked, evading the question.

“Maybe,” Mary said, considering. “I might think that money is more important, though. I do enjoy expensive treats.”

Emmeline and Mary giggled together, and George turned away from Lord Clark to see what the noise was about. With a playful smile, he asked, “What might you two find so humorous about the opera?”

“Lady Emmeline says that the other ladies find you grotesque to look upon,” Mary answered with a quickness that surprised Emmeline. “But the Duke of Blackwood is handsome, shares her interests, is strong, and….and….what was it? He has a good heart.”

George chuckled, the sound a deep and pleasant rumbling that arose from his chest. The first intermission began, just then, and he was distracted from bantering with his younger sister as Lord Clark whisked him away into the corridor. Simon rose, intending to stretch his legs and speak with Emmeline, but she was already standing with her arm looped through Mary’s to go to the powder room together.

“We will be back shortly,” Emmeline told him, pleasantly, a flicker of mischief in her eye letting the Duke know that she knew precisely what she was doing in evading him. The two ladies chattered quietly as they made their way to the restroom, their lady’s maids trailing behind them, when Lydia and Margaret appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Lady Clark!” called Lydia, taking up Margaret’s hand to pull her hastily toward Emmeline. The blonde’s eyes lit up, and a bright smile swept across her face.

“Lydia. Margaret.” She greeted them in kind, embracing them each with her free arm without letting go of Mary. “Lady Honeyfield, Lady Browning and Lady Creassey are dear old friends of mine.”

“Pleased to meet you!” Mary chirped, her gentle youth bringing smiles to Lydia’s and Margaret’s faces. “Lady Clark, I would like to visit with your friends sometime soon. There is not a lot of time left before the opera resumes, so I will go and be quick, and you can chat with your friends.”

Emmeline watched, a smile on her face, as Mary and her maid went into the bathroom. Before she could even properly return her attention to her friends, they began to bombard her.

“I have heard no more than four mentions of your appearance in the Duke’s box.”

“Yes, and we are interested to know why you are there with your father and sitting so far away from him! Are you worried that people will think you are betrothed?”

“Are you worried they will think that the courtship rumors are more akin to a business dealing?”

“What is there to worry about? The two of you have just started both rumors from your own mouths,” Emmeline laughed, gesturing around them at the busy halls.

“How is it going?” Margaret asked, ignoring her jet. She and Lydia looked eager for an update, but Emmeline wasn’t sure that there was much of one to give.

“As planned, I suppose,” she laughed. “We went riding today. We bickered. We had dinner, and then he and my father insisted we come here .”

“You bickered?”

“Politely! And in good humor.”

“Then–”

“Lady Creassey. Lady Browning.” Simon’s commanding voice came from behind the girls, and he bowed his head to them each in turn by way of greeting. As he stood shoulder to shoulder beside Emmeline, her cheeks flushed, she felt the roaming eyes of passersby upon them and became chagrined by his sudden appearance. “Had I known you were in attendance, I would have invited you to share our box, as well.”

“That is generous of you, Your Grace, indeed,” Margaret answered politely.

“Perhaps another night! You have plenty of company this evening, after all,” Lydia offered, throwing a sideways glance at Emmeline. “Are you enjoying the opera tonight?”

“I am,” the Duke offered, smiling politely. “Although I must admit that I am enjoying my company more.” A soft flush crossed Emmeline’s cheeks, and Lydia made no attempt to disguise her own giggle, a reaction that pulled a certain appreciation out of the Duke.

“We’re so happy to hear that you find the evening to your liking,” Margaret said, evenly.

“Are your brothers here this evening? I apologize, I did not think to look before.”

“They are not, Your Grace. They have been in Paris to visit with my younger sister at school and will return tomorrow evening. I will be sure to mention that you asked for them.”

“I would like that, thank you. Lady Clark and I are going away for some fresh country air and to do a bit of riding this weekend coming. Please invite your brothers. And Lady Browning, I am certain that Lady Clark would be happy to extend an invitation to you as well.” Emmeline’s eyes widened at the sudden news, but Simon did not give her a chance to make a rebuttal. “My dear friend Duke of Newbridge and his younger sister Lady Mary Honeyfield will be attending as well.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Margaret chirped, and Emmeline realized why she had been overstepped. Seeing the look of excitement on her friends’ faces, there was no way she could protest. “Emmeline, we will see you tomorrow for tea. I will get the details then.”

Lydia and Margaret bid the Duke and Emmeline farewell, and retreated to their seats. Simon glanced at her with a smug expression. “You ought to bring Onyx andd Lunette. I found her pleasant to ride.”

“You are despicable, Your Grace,” Emmeline pressed, though her voice was mostly teasing. “I would have agreed to the trip even without your tactics.”

“I employed nothing of the sort. I thought of the trip right here on the spot. It is merely unbecoming to reveal the spontaneous nature of plans when one is extending an invitation. It makes it seem as though the invitation itself is, too, spontaneous.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not by nature. I have invited–and plan to invite–exactly those who I would have invited on a trip had I spent a month plannning.”

“What trip?” Lady Mary’s voice sounded from next to them as she and her maid emerged from the restroom. “The one to your country manor that you asked us to last month? Oh, will Lady Clark be joining us? Please, Your Grace! She is now my closest friend and confidante and I will beg George not to go if you do not say yes.”

Emmeline hid her laugh behind her fan, and Simon turned on his heel to lead them back to the opera box. “Yes, Lady Mary. Your dear friend will be joining us on our trip,” he threw over his shoulder.

The three of them returned to the opera box to find that Lord Clark and the Duke of Newbridge had taken the seats to the far left, and Lady Mary swiftly placed herself beside her brother, then insisted that Lady Clark take the other beside her. Emmeline glanced at Simon, who was already sitting down where she had previously been. She glanced at her father and George, both of whom were enraptured by the conversation they engaged in.

Resigned to her fate, Lady Clark sat between Mary and Simon. For a while, Lady Mary chattered excitedly to Emmeline about her plans for the retreat. She shared with Emmeline that the Walford country estate was much grander than it sounded, boasting a sprawling courtyard garden in the Spanish style and impressive, artisan statues throughout the building. Emmeline was inclined to resent how pleasant the younger girl made it sound on the principle that Simon had attempted to deceive her.

It was a little white lie, the sort that she had giggled over sharing with her mother when she wished to surprise Lord Clark or get up to some small mischief, but in light of what had happened with Lord Bancroft, she was not sure that she could let it go. At the next intermission, the Duke of Newbridge and Lord Clark escorted Mary to visit with her friend across the way, and Simon and Emmeline were left to themselves.

“Lady Clark,” he began, immediately, “I want you to know that it was not my intention to be dishonest. It was my intention that the weekend be a bit of a surprise to you, but when I saw your friend, Lady Browning, this night, I realized that I did not have a way to invite her without your assistance. I might be familiar with the Lords Creassey, but to call on their sister would seem…inappropriate. It was–”

“There is no need, Your Grace,” Emmeline said mildly. In truth, the Lady Clark almost found his efforts charming, now that he had explained himself. It was something like what her father would have done for her mother long ago, and his blundering was sweet in a way. That he had thought to include her friends so she would be more comfortable during the weekend was kind and thoughtful in a way she had not thought him capable. Emmeline was annoyed, almost, that she could not hold on to the whisp of anger that had arisen from the lie.

“My next surprise will go more smoothly,” he promised.

She turned in his direction, her eyes meeting his. “I do not intend to hold every minor offense over your head, Your Grace. You earlier accused me of engaging in our courtship for ulterior motives.” Her voice was hushed, and could not be heard over the din of the crowd or the swell of the opera music. “I have none. You asked for a chance to charm me. I am giving you that chance without reservation.”

Simon did not answer at length, and the two sat in stony silence while they watched other members of the ton move about on the other side of the building, socializing and gossipping. He knew that at least some of them were discussing what they had seen in his opera box tonight–the Lady Clark and her father his guests, and she now at his side. A since of pride he could not explain swelled in his chest at the thought.

This would be what it felt like to be married to the prettiest young lady in English high society. At the corner of his eye, he felt the pressure of someone staring, and turned to look. Lord Bancroft was in attendance, sitting with a few of his friends in his own box, but Simon was mistaken–the Viscount did not have eyes for him at all. They watched Emmeline, instead. With a smirk, Simon repositioned his body so that Bancroft would no longer be able to view her.

“Then I look forward to spensing more time with you, Lady Clark. The last few days have been enlightening.”

“Have they? How so?”

“You are bright and intelligent. Your insight has…changed my views on the world more than once. It has always been my opinion that exposure to those who are not at all like ourselves is one of the highest forms of education. I am indebted to you as I was to Oxford.”

“You attended Oxford?”

“I did.”

“I thought that you new Lady Creassey’s brothers from your time at university. I must have been mistaken, but…I have always wanted to see Oxford.” Simon was drawn into their conversation by the dreamy look in her eye, as if she fell asleep to visions of lecture halls and rooms full of books and pretention. “Clark Manor has a wonderful library, but it is hardly scholarly. I should like to read about things like history and philosophy.”

“Then you should very much enjoy your time at Blackwood Estate. There are a great deal of ancient and scholarly texts which have not been touched in generations of my family living there,” he chuckled. “I will be sure not to show you where it is too early, lest we lose the privilege of your company altogether this weekend.”

“Do you mean to insinuate that I might be a rude and horrible house guest?” she teased.

“I believe the answer depends now on your access to the library in my home.” The pair laughed together, a moment which would be written about in the papers the next morning, but that they were being watched was lost to them. Simon was intrigued by Emmeline Clark’s strange ways, and she was curios about the Duke who had not dained to say one negative thing about her want of education.