THE MARQUESS AND THE

WALLFLOWER
A HISTORICAL REGENCY ROMANCE
TIFFANY BATON
 CONTENTS

A Sweet Gift From Me to You

Before You Start Reading…
Do You Love Books?

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue

Preview: A Duchess by Christmas

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Also by Tiffany Baton

Loved the Book?
About the Author
 A SWEET GIFT FROM ME TO YOU

Thank you so much for your support on my efforts. Having you on my side is
more than I could ever ask for!

And as a thank you gift, to show you how much I appreciate your support, I am
offering you a free book. The Dukedom of the Beast is available exclusively to
people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get your free copy by
clicking the image below or this link here!

Thank you for being by my reason to smile today!

Tiffany Baton
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 ABOUT THE BOOK

“I love you not in spite of your imperfections, but because of

them.”

The Bolton family has a tradition, kept for generations: they

make dashing children, and they marry for love. Lady Emily,
however, fears she will be the first to break both of these
traditions. Very insecure in her appearance, and with the
only man she is interested in not looking to get married, this
season might prove to be nothing short of disastrous..

Lord Aaron’s idea of family and love shattered completely

the day his betrothed chose his own brother over him. He is
certain he will never love again. Until he crosses paths with
an insecure wallflower, and finds himself drawn to her. Too
bad that their newfound happiness is hanging by a thread,
and sabotage is just a breath away…
 PROLOGUE

London, England

“T hey will not find me here.” Emily closed the door on

the library and picked up her book, scurrying toward
the far corner of the room and pressing herself into the gaps
between the bookshelves. As she pulled open the cover of her
book, she checked back and forth around the room, ensuring
all the doors closed before she returned to the world
enclosed within the pages of her book. “On the ship that day,
the sun was hot, making Elizabeth’s skin burn from the heat.
When the Captain approached, she felt that heat increase…”

“Emily? Are you in here?”

“Oh, god have mercy,” Emily muttered, looking up from the

book she had been reading. She tried to press her body closer
into the gap between the mahogany shelves then cursed
herself and looked down. “I am hardly going to disappear,
am I?” She flattened the dress that showed off the curves of
her figure, so wide in her opinion that few could be in doubt
that she carried more weight than she ought to.

“Emily?”

“She will not be in there.”

“Would you like a wager on that? Ha! I know my sister well.

Trust me. She will be in here.”

“Damn you, Grace,” Emily mumbled, listening to the two

voices chatter as she stepped out from her failed hiding
place. She turned around in the room, just debating hiding
behind an armchair when the door burst open. “Ah…never
mind.” Emily hid the book behind her back as Grace stepped
in, followed by their sister-in-law, Julia.

“There you are! I told you she would be here,” Grace said
with a laugh as she advanced across the room toward Emily.

“How did you find me?” Emily asked, doing her best to put
down the book on a nearby table without her family seeing
what book it was.
“You think I do not know you by now?” Grace said good
naturedly. “I love you, dear sister, but you would often have
a conversation with a character in a book than us, would you
not?”

“Ha! You do know me well,” Emily laughed too.

“Now, come. There is no time to waste!” Grace took her

hand and pulled, dragging her across the room.

“I beg to differ. Time was exactly what I was trying to

waste.”

“Do not be witty at a time like this,” Grace said with an

artful smile as she continued to pull on her hand.

“Witty? It is the only virtue I have. Forgive me if I hold onto

it.” Emily’s words made Julia laugh as she bustled on behind
her.

“Emily, we must prepare you for your debut. There is no

time for reading.” Julia shook her head and took Emily’s
other arm, dragging her out of the room.
The happiness Emily felt in her family’s company began to
fade at the mention of her debut. As they towed her out of
the room and toward the stairs, she looked down at the floor,
trying to swallow past her nerves, but it was no good. They
remained there, fluttering like moths in her stomach.

“Are you not excited?” Julia asked, her own excitement

clearly so palpable that her rosy cheeks were blushing a
deeper pink. “I was so thrilled for my debut that I tripped up
stepping into the ballroom.”

“Knowing me, I will fall flat on my face when I step into the
ballroom,” Emily’s words made both women laugh beside
her.

“You will do no such thing, I am sure,” Grace brushed off the

idea. “Come on, let us prepare you for the evening!”

They hurried Emily up the stairs and into her chamber,

where not only her maid, Helena, was preparing her gown
for the night, but her mother was there too, Charity, picking
out silver jewelry and laying them across the vanity table for
Emily to wear.

“Oh my,” Charity said, waving a hand in front of her face as

if to quell tears. “How emotional this moment is. My
younger child making her debut. You are all so grown up
now. I remember when you were all running round in your
morning dresses, playing games on the lawn, and crying
when you scraped your knees. Beautiful trivial things you all
were. Soon, you will have children of your own! No doubt
they will be just as beautiful.”

Emily felt herself being pushed into the chair in front of the
vanity table, but her mother’s words made her cast her eyes
downward, unwilling to meet her own reflection. Charity was
right, in many ways. The Earl of Dowding’s family had a long
tradition of producing beautiful children going back
generations, and Emily’s siblings were no exception.

Grace was the perfect picture of elegance, with a slender

form, a tall stature, a small nose, and bold blue eyes, with
long chestnut hair that always stayed in its updo. Barely a
pair of eyes was not turned in her direction when she walked
into a room.

Arthur, their brother, was as handsome as their father had

been when he was young. He bore auburn hair, which was
copperish in places, curling around his temple, with deep
brown eyes that ladies seemed fond of staring into. Many
ladies did, for he had once been one of the most eligible
bachelors in London, until he met Julia. Married for love,
with his handsome countenance and Julia’s beauty of pale
blonde hair and green eyes, Emily did not doubt they would
continue the tradition of beautiful children.

I will not. The thought cut through her strongly.

“Helena, attend to her hair if you will,” Charity said,
hurrying round Emily and helping her into her jewelry as
Grace and Julia examined the gown she was to wear. “What a
debut you will make! I am so excited for you, Emily.”

“Are you?” Emily asked. “I find myself lacking in

excitement.”

“Whatever for?” Charity said and stopped by her side.

Sweetly, her mother tapped her cheek in the doting way
Emily had always loved. “You are simply nervous, love. Have
no fear. We will be there with you.”

Emily tried to smile, but it did not last long. She knew the
truth of the matter. Tonight, she would be a disappointment
to her beautiful family.

Once more, she could not bring herself to lift her eyes and
look in the mirror, for she knew what she would find there.
The plump form, the dark auburn hair that was so mad with
its curls, that rarely ever wanted to stay in any updo, and the
big blue eyes. So large, that her eyes sat unnaturally in her
face.

“Come, Emily. Let us get you into this gown.”

Not wanting to disappoint her family’s excitement, Emily
stood to her feet again once her hair was scraped back into
an updo and stepped into the dress. When all was done, she
turned to her family, finding Charity in near tears once
more, with Grace at her side practically jumping up and
down, and Julia bestowing a wide smile on her.

“Oh, Mama,” Emily said with a smile and passed her a

handkerchief. “If you cry much more, there will be no tears
left in your body.”

“These are happy tears, love. How beautiful you look!”

Emily winced. Her mother had to say that, didn’t she?

Mothers loved their children unconditionally.

“We will be late,” Julia cried with sudden panic. “Come on,
we best prepare ourselves. People will be arriving any minute
for the event.”

Emily nodded along with the others and followed them out
of the room, still being careful not to look in a single mirror
as she passed onto the landing. Julia and Grace looped arms
and hurried off in front, descending the main staircase in the
house quickly, whilst Charity hung back, taking Emily’s arm
in her own.
“Do not be nervous, love. It is a time for celebration.
Tonight, it is the mark of you taking on your own life. Is that
not exciting?”

“Very exciting, Mama, but…” Emily chewed her lip nervously

before lifting her eyes to her mother. “What if I do not marry
as quickly as the rest of you did?”

What if I do not marry at all? What if no one wants me and I will

be a spinster forever?

“Time does not matter.” Charity shook her head. “What

matters is that you marry for love. Remember that.”

Emily let her mother lead her down the stairs, feeling her
nerves take increased control of her body. When she reached
the bottom of the stairs, Charity hurried off to help with the
preparations for the ball, leaving Emily standing alone and
staring at the floor.

You can do this, you fool. All it really takes is standing in a room
full of people, which is it. Even if their eyes will be looking at you…

“I see shaking hands.” Arthur’s voice made Emily look up to

see her brother approaching her. He at once took her hand in
his, trying his best to stop her trembling fingers. “You would
go back to your chamber and hide under the bed with an
enjoyable book, wouldn’t you?”

“Do you think anyone would notice if I did?” she asked

teasingly.

“Something tells me our mother may notice.”

“She will be too distracted with dancing herself once the ball
starts.”

“Very true!” he said with a laugh. He looped her hand

through his arm and escorted her toward the ballroom. “Do
you wish to tell me why your hands are shaking so? I have a
feeling it is more than just nerves.”

“Are you capable of reading my mind these days, Arthur?”

she said tiredly. “Please do not. How am I to have any secrets
left?”

“I know you well. That is all. So, come on, tell me what is in
your heart tonight.” Arthur’s kind ways were impossible to
escape. As they stepped into the ballroom, she turned her
eyes away from the fine summer decorations, filled with
roses and wisteria petals strewn across tables, and looked at
her brother.
“What if I break the chain, Arthur?” she asked in a whisper.

“What do you mean?” he said softly.

“You were quite reputed in the ton. Do not bother denying it,
for you know it is true. Whilst I will admire your modesty, it
will not help what I am trying to say.”

“Very well, continue,” he said with a smile.

“Grace is talked much of too. Look out our own parents, they
were quite the talk of the ton. Then…look at me.”

“Yes? What am I supposed to see?”

Emily gestured down at the ivory white gown she was

wearing, thinking much of the curvy figure.

“I do not quite fit the pattern, do I?” she asked in a quiet

whisper.

“You are merely humble, sister.”

“Do not tease me, Arthur. I am being serious.”

“Then allow me to be serious,” he said plainly. “Wait until

you are a part of the ton before you fear their opinion. It may
be higher than you think. Now, there is one thing you need if
you are to enjoy tonight. No debut is complete without a
glass of wine in your hand. Let me get one for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, trying to maintain her smile. The

moment he left her side to head to the drinks’ table though,
she felt her smile vanish. Despite what Arthur had said, she
knew the truth of the matter.

She did not follow the pattern of beauty; she was the odd one
out. like someone had left a plain nut in a box of nuts
wrapped in chocolate. She did not fit.

“Oh god…” she whispered to herself as she looked around

the ballroom, watching her family make the final
preparations for their guests’ arrival. “What if I am to be the
first spinster in our family? What if I will never marry?”
 CHAPTER ONE

“A llow me to introduce my daughter to you all, Lady

Emily Bolton.”

Emily wanted to wince and run away from her father’s

words, but nothing was to be done. Archibald Bolton, the
Earl of Dowding, had her hand tightly in his as they stood on
a mezzanine level in the ballroom, standing over the
musicians far below. As their guests clapped, Emily kept her
chin level, despite her temptation to look down and hide.

I wish they would all stop looking at me.

She returned some of their stares, noting the way they all
looked at her. Some ladies looked at her face, then their eyes
cast downward, looking at the plump form beneath her
dress. None of the gentlemen looked at her for awfully long,
before they thankfully looked away.
“The pattern is now broken,” she muttered to herself. “I am
sorry, Mama and Papa.” She spoke so quietly that it was
impossible for Archibald to hear her at his side.

With the announcement done, musicians began to play, and

everyone turned back to having their own conversations.
Emily sighed, feeling with relief that the worst was over
before Archibald turned her away and escorted her back
down the steps from the mezzanine level toward the main
part of the ballroom.

“Now, was that so bad?” Archibald asked, clearly struggling

to contain his own humor. “Emily, you would think I had
just introduced you to a pride of lions.”

“They might as well be,” Emily said quietly. “Have you seen
the way they gnash their teeth when they talk? Quite like
lions to me.” Her jest made her father laugh warmly. She
was just debating a way to run off and hide at the side of the
room when someone appeared at their side. It was Julia, who
quickly took hold of Emily’s free hand, offering a comforting
smile.

Emily returned the smile, thankful for her sister-in-law’s

arrival. Since the day Arthur had invited his betrothed to
their house, Emily had adored her. They had been the closest
of friends since, and Julia always called Emily the sister she
wished she had had from birth.
“Now, perhaps we could find a dancer partner for you,”
Archibald said distractedly, looking around the room.

“Please, Papa, I do not wish to force any poor passing

gentleman to dance with me. It is like setting a trap for any
man that walks by.” She shuddered at the mere idea. “The
bait is even poor indeed.”

“My Lord, leave it with me,” Julia said, somehow extracting

Emily’s arm from his. “I have the perfect gentleman I wish
to introduce Emily to.”

“How wonderful, I’ll leave you to it then.” Archibald released

her, leaving Emily to try and grab her father’s arm another
time.

“I do not like it, Papa. She is looking at me with craftiness in

her. She clearly has a plan!” Emily said in a mock whisper,
pulling a laugh from Julia at her jest.

“I quite agree with you,” Archibald pretended to whisper

back, “but as I am curious to see just what plan she has up
those dainty sleeves, I’ll place you in her care.”

“Treacherous father!” Emily called back to him as Julia

towed her away.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” her father called back, laughing
under his breath.

“Trust me,” Julia said, turning Emily away from her father
completely and urging her to slip through gaps between the
guests. “I have had this in mind for some time.”

“What in mind? You are truly beginning to scare me now,

Julia.”

“Well, perhaps your father is right. Perhaps I do have

something up my sleeve,” Julia said with a giggle.

“You have made me a part of some plot. What plot is this?”

Emily asked, cowering away from some of the guests they
passed.

There were so many ladies dressed opulently for the occasion

that their clothes were amusing to Emily’s eyes. There were
women with great feathers on their heads, looking like they
had stolen birds from trees to wear in their hair, and even
ladies wearing turbans. Emily suspected they suffered from
her problem of unruly hair and were trying to hide it with
strips of cloth.

“My plot is a great secret. Shh,” Julia whispered playfully as

she led Emily to the other side of the room. “Trust me. There
is a gentleman here whose company I think you will enjoy.”

“You did not say he would enjoy my company too.”

“That is what I meant.”

“Was it?” Emily asked with raised eyebrows, doubting the

possibility. “Please, Julia, do not impose my company on
some poor stranger. Any man will feel we are trying to catch
him in marriage. That is not what I wish for!”

“I am simply playing a little matchmaking. What is so wrong

with that?” Julia asked with a smile.

“Your innocence would be more convincing if you were not

looking around this room the way a hawk hunts a mouse.”

“Ha! Stop making me laugh so. You are distracting me from

my task.” Julia shook her head. “Ah! There he is. Look.”

“Who?” Emily looked around, gazing in the direction Julia

was pointing. “All I see is the ice sculpture Mama ordered,
that is currently melting and looking more like a goose than
a swan.”
“Behind the sculpture. Take another look. The tall gentleman
there, the one with the magnificent midnight blue waistcoat.
That is the Marquess of Tattershall.”

Emily did not recognize the name, but she did not think long
on the subject, for her mind became too busy in observing
the man her sister-in-law was pointing out to her.

He was tall indeed, and clearly of an athletic build thanks to

the tailcoat that was molded to his figure. What struck Emily
the most was his face. His hair was as dark as a cloudy night
sky, left to naturally bounce up a little at his temple, and the
lines of his face were angular, creating an unusual
handsomeness that she found quite breathtaking.

“Is he not handsome?” Julia asked in excitement.

“Yes, very handsome.” Emily had to admit it, struggling to

find any witty remark.

“Would you like to meet him?”

“So that I can make a fool of myself? No. I do not think so.”
Emily turned away at once. “Look, more wine, Julia. I
suddenly find myself parched and in need of a glass.”
“Yes, I bet you do. Emily, come back!”

Yet Emily had hurried off before Julia could stop her.

“Why the hell am I here?” Aaron muttered to himself. He

brushed his brow another time and looked around the room.
Despite the busyness of the ballroom, he felt isolated, and
lonelier than he did tucked away in his townhouse when he
truly was all alone. “I should have stayed home.”

He turned to the table on which an ice sculpture was set and

served himself a glass of punch, eagerly lifting it to his lips.
If he were going to last the night at the ball, he felt he would
need something to boost his courage.

“This was a foolish idea.” He could not stop muttering to

himself, cursing every time he looked around. He had only
come because his mother had pleaded with him, saying no
happiness could be found staying home alone all the time.
He knew she was right, well enough, but the prospect of
having to come face to face with certain people tonight left
him anxious to return home.

He circled the table, looking out to the hosts for the evening,
the Earl and Countess of Dowding. They had greeted him
warmly earlier that night, despite the fact he only knew
them by name. His gaze landed on them for a minute as the
Earl led his Countess toward the dancefloor. The smiles on
their faces struck him a little. They were odd, in a way,
clearly genuine and taking over their entire countenance.

Is it possible to be so happy?

The sound of increased chatter above the flute players told

him that there were new arrivals to the ball. He turned
toward the door, seeing his mother and father were the
latest additions, along with Hugh, his brother.

“Hugh,” he mumbled the word with harshness. “Some

brother.”

Breathing deeply and lifting his chin, Aaron decided this was
no time to be cowed. He would prove to Hugh that what he
had done did not affect Aaron, that he was not still hurting
after all. He crossed the room toward his parents when
someone else entered the room. The sight of her made him
stop dead in his tracks.

Jane.

Miss Jane Drew walked elegantly into the room where she
took up her place beside Hugh, looping her arm through his.
She smiled sweetly up at Hugh, making those pale blue eyes
dazzle. Aaron had to snatch his gaze away, reluctantly
remembering the time when she used to smile at him like
that. It suddenly seemed so long ago now.

Any wish Aaron had had to go and greet his parents wavered.
Did he have to make small talk when Hugh and Jane were
standing there together, smiling at one another like they
were the only thing that mattered in this world?

“Lord Tattershall?”

He recognized his name and turned round, grateful for the

distraction from his own thoughts. Lady Julia Bolton was
advancing toward him, pulling forward a young woman who
was familiar to him. It took a moment to recognize her as the
woman who had been announced by her father minutes ago,
for this was her debut.

“Lady Bolton, how are you?” Aaron asked, bowing deeply to

the first lady. He had known her since before she was wed
and knew her to be a kindly sort, even if they had not had the
chance to meet a lot in company.

“I am well indeed, though I am desirous to introduce my

sister-in-law to good company.”

“And you chose me? I am flattered,” he said with a smile,

turning his eyes on the young woman beside her.
“Do not be too flattered,” the lady said, looking toward Lady
Bolton. “She has not yet said if I am good company myself.”

Aaron was startled by the wit, he found himself chuckling as

he bowed to the lady before him.

“Lord Tattershall, may I introduce formally my husband’s

sister, and my dear friend. Lady Emily Bolton.” Lady Bolton
gestured to the young woman who hurried to curtsy.

To Aaron’s eyes Lady Emily seemed to be avoiding his gaze

as she curtsied, but he thought nothing of it. He was busy
thinking of what a striking presence she made. There were
such large blue eyes in her face that it was almost impossible
to look anywhere else, and the dark auburn hair tied in an
updo was reluctant to stay in one position, with mad curls
slipping down. She was quite beautiful, and when Aaron felt
his eyes darting down to her curvaceous figure, he had to
snap his gaze back to her face.

Be a gentleman, you fool. You should not ogle a lady so.

“It is a pleasure, Lady Emily,” he hurriedly said as he stood

straight from his bow.
“Do not say that yet. I could be the worst company here.”
Her playful tone made him laugh again.

Who exactly is this lady? She is quite different.

He glanced over his shoulder, watching where his family

went. His parents circled the room with Jane and Hugh
following on behind them. Aaron turned his eyes back to
Lady Bolton and Lady Emily, deciding the greeting of his
family could wait a little longer yet.

“I am sure there is much worse company,” Aaron said with a

smile. “This must be your debut then, Lady Emily, how do
you find it?” he asked, thankful for the distraction. She
chewed her lip for a minute, making his eyes turn down to
the pink lips.

What has gotten into me?

He snapped his eyes back to hers again.

“I believe it is proper to comment on the elegance of the

event, perhaps say what a wonderful evening it is,” she said,
though she smiled with the words, thinking something quite
different.
“I sense a ‘but’ coming, and I am intrigued to know what it
is.” His statement encouraged her, for she smiled even more.

“But I am so nervous I have already dropped one wine glass.

Julia thankfully caught it before it smashed.” She gestured to
her sister-in-law at her side.

“I was trying to tell her that we are all messes at our own
debuts. No doubt we all have the same fears, the same
nerves,” Lady Bolton continued on. “Wouldn’t you say?”

Aaron was distracted again. Out of the corner of his eye, Jane
had moved into view. She had a habit of this, always staying
within Aaron’s sight somewhere. Her dark blonde hair was
coiffed perfectly tonight, styled in such a way that it
emphasized her elegant beauty.

“Yes,” Aaron said, shifting his focus back to the two ladies in
front of him. “You should have seen me my first night with
the ton, Lady Emily. I believe in two of my dances I stepped
on a lady’s toes, and the night was capped off with feeling ill
thanks to a little too much of this.” He lifted the punch glass
in his hands, gesturing down to it.

“Well, that does not sound so bad,” Lady Emily shook her
head with her words. “I am still afraid of tripping in my
dances and falling flat on my face. I would be a ugly sight,
I’m sure.” Her wit made him smile again, startled by the
freedom with which she spoke. It was different to other
ladies, even to the lady stood beside her. Most were reserved,
hardly forward at all, even those that were not, did not have
such a good humor.

“Well, if you fall, I promise to be there to help pick you up.”

His words brought a new smile to her face.

“Do not promise that yet. When it happens, it may be such

an embarrassment that you may want to run as far as
possible from the scene.”

He laughed warmly at the way she whispered, as if it would

be a great horror to behold.

“Dancing, what a wonderful idea!” Lady Bolton declared at

Lady Emily’s side. “We have yet to dance this evening, do we
not?”

“Julia, please.” Lady Emily lost her smile entirely. She

seemed to have turned a warning glare upon her sister-in-
law.

“Please what?” Lady Bolton pretended innocence. “I was just

thinking I would be glad to dance with my husband, which
was all.”
“Sure, you were,” Lady Emily said, narrowing her eyes. “You
were not thinking of making anyone else dance, were you?”

“Well…”

“Oh dear.” Lady Emily winced and turned back to Aaron.

“Run now, my Lord, before my sister-in-law ensnares you
in her trap.”

He laughed around the punch he was sipping, almost

choking on the liquid.

“I see what she is doing,” he assured her with a nod. “Have

no fear, for I have not ran away yet.”

“You really may want to. You may end up being the one
dancing with me when I fall.” Lady Emily widened her eyes,
emphasizing the horror.

“Then it will be easier for me to be the one to pick you up

again.” He held her gaze for a minute.

What is this feeling?

It took him a moment to recognize what it was. It held a
spark, a kind of wit and excitement.

“I am pleased to hear it,” Lady Bolton said, retrieving the

dance card from Lady Emily’s wrist. “You will see my sister-
in-law’s dance card is quite empty.”

“Julia.” Lady Emily tried to snatch it back. She failed at first

as Lady Bolton took it out of her reach, but on her second
attempt she managed to retrieve it and hid it behind her
back.

“As you can see,” Lady Bolton said with humor. “She is not
an eager dancer. No wonder gentlemen cannot write down
their names when she hides the card so.”

“So I see.” He chuckled and turned his eyes back on Lady

Emily. She really was incredibly beautiful, but now he could
see a blush taking over her cheeks, quite delightful in color.
Despite the quiet confidence and the humor that she held; it
was clear the nerves were real. She was embarrassed by her
sister-in-law trying to secure a dance for her.

Aaron felt eager to abate that blush. Lady Emily was clearly
very pleasant company, and this was her debut. Without a
doubt did she deserve a dance this evening.
Nearby, Aaron could hear laughter, a sound he recognized all
too easily. The dulcet tones and melodic giggle were
something that used to happen when he made jests. He
turned his head to the side to see Jane was laughing at
something Hugh had said to her. It made something in
Aaron’s gut tense, as if his insides were being squashed by
some unseen force.

Then Hugh looked his way. That was too much to bear.

I will not let him see what he has done to me. This angst has gone
on long enough between us.

Aaron snatched his gaze away and looked to Lady Emily as

Lady Bolton tried to take hold of her dance card again. What
better way to show Hugh and Jane that he was no longer hurt
by their betrothal than to dance this evening? If he could be
happy, joyous, carefree, they would think he was unharmed,
and Hugh would not send those victorious glances his way.

“Lady Emily.” Aaron placed down his punch glass on the

nearest table and turned his hand toward her, gesturing for
her dance card. “Hide the card all you like, but it will not
change my question. Would you care to dance with me?”
 CHAPTER TWO

E mily blinked a few times; certain she had heard the

Marquess wrong. Had she not just encouraged him that
dancing with her would have been a dreadful idea? Yet it
seemed to have made no difference. He was staring at her
with a smile that lit up those angular features, offering his
hand toward her.

A firm nudge in Emily’s side from Julia startled her into

action. She proffered her dance card toward Lord Tattershall,
finding her mouth suddenly dry. His smile grew wider as he
took it and signed his name for the next dance. Emily was
about to part her lips to assure him that he did not need to
feel compelled into dancing with her, simply because they
had approached him, but there was no time.

The flute music changed, signifying the next dance was

beginning.
“What good timing,” he said with humor, returning her
dance card to her. She threaded it round her wrist once more
on a small silver chain, before she took the hand that he
offered toward her.

She was irked that there was her silk glove between them,
for through that grasp she could feel how warm his touch
was.

“Lady Bolton.” He bowed his head to Julia in parting and led

Emily toward the floor. It gave Emily just enough time to
glare back at Julia, letting her know what she thought of her
interference. Julia did not seem to mind; she was busy trying
to hide her laugh behind her gloved hand as Arthur
approached her.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” Emily said the closer they moved to

the dancefloor. He looked down at her, his brow angling into
a frown.

“Whatever for?”

“I feel like my sister-in-law cornered you into dancing with

me. It reminds me of a fox hunt. Perhaps Julia and I are the
hounds?” Her words made him laugh. She discovered a warm
feeling attached to whenever he laughed at something she
said. She suspected she could go out of her way to make this
man laugh.
“Believe me, there was no cornering required, no hounds
yapping at my feet. I asked you because I wanted to dance
with you,” he assured her as he led her onto the dancefloor.

“You did?” she asked, baffled by the idea as she lined up

with the other ladies, facing the Marquess. They had taken
their places, ready to begin a cotillion. She had been so
certain that no one would want to dance with her that she
could barely understand the idea. Who would dance with her
when they could dance with beautiful Grace?

“Is this nerves or modesty I wonder?” he asked.

She did not have time to answer, for the music grew louder
and the bars of introduction ended, signifying it was time to
begin the dance. The Marquess stepped forward, taking
Emily’s hand in his as they circled one another, dancing
together and keeping their eyes on one another.

The dance progressed, just as Emily was trying to ignore the

tingling sensation she felt at the Marquess’ touch, they
circled round each other, loosening their hands before
circling the couples next to them. When they came together
another time, they danced side by side for a moment, before
returning to face one another, with Emily twisting under his
arm.
She was finding it difficult to keep her nerves in check, but
as fast as she thought she could not control the shaking of
her hands, she realized where the Marquess was really
looking. He was not looking at her at all. He was staring
somewhere off the dancefloor, toward someone else.
Somehow relieved the focus was not on her, Emily’s hands
stopped shaking, just as they returned to the beginning of
the dance.

Now, she was able to look out from the dancefloor and see
just where Lord Tattershall was staring. He was looking at a
young woman, a lady so beautiful that Emily felt quite out of
place. She imagined if she stood beside this lady, she would
feel like the woman’s shadow.

“Well, my Lord,” Emily found her confidence. “I am fond of

conversation when dancing, so I will ask you, is that the
young lady you wish to court?”

Lord Tattershall snapped his gaze toward her, so quick that

she wondered he did not get a crick in his neck.

“Ow, did that hurt?” she asked with a small smile, nodding
her head at his neck. “Take care, my Lord. It looks like I
startled you.”

“That you did.” He shook his head as they turned and took
each other’s hand, circling the other way once more. “Let us
just say I was somewhat baffled by your perception of just
where I was staring.”

“I imagine many gentlemen stare at such a lady as she.”

“You would not be wrong, I am sure.” He spoke with a sigh.

There seemed to be disappointment in that tone. She was
prevented from answering as they circled the other couples,
but as they came together again, she hurried to speak.

“I have a plan, if you care to hear it?” she asked.

“Ah, is your sister-in-law not the only one fond of a little

craftiness?” His humored smile made her laugh and shake
her head.

“Yes, I do apologize for her, but I was thinking more of a

way for you to capture the attention of the young lady you
are staring so fondly at.”

“I was not exactly staring fondly at her.” He struggled to

explain himself, speaking so quickly that the words jumbled
together.
“Oh, yes.” Emily spoke with a little sarcasm. “And I was not
nervous about my debut at all, my Lord.” He laughed at her
words and nodded in approval.

“Very well, go on with your plan.”

“Take care to dance with many ladies tonight. Be sure to ask

lots and choose ladies more beautiful than me for the task. I
may not know much about courting, but I know a few things
about a lady’s heart. It makes a lady’s heart long all the more
when the man she cares about is seen with others.”

“It does?” he asked in surprise.

“Dance with others and then dance with your lady last. Wait
to see her smile when you ask her then.”

“I am not sure the lady would dance with me. Not now.”
There was something in his words, something that
suggested there was more to this story, but she did not have
time to ask what it was for they moved down the floor in the
dance, swapping places with another couple. Seeing a
somewhat somber expression take hold of his face, Emily
decided it was time to change the conversation.

“Tell me, my Lord. What do you think of our gathering here

tonight?” she asked, gesturing at the ball. “My parents were
indeed fussed about the arrangements, and my mother cared
so much about the decorations that there were rose petals in
her hair by the time she was done. I suspect people have
drunk so much wine and punch that the decorations are
nothing but a blur to them now.”

Emily watched in amazement as the Marquess laughed. It

was so sudden and heartfelt that others in the dance turned
their heads to look their way.

“I have tickled you greatly,” Emily said, pleased with

herself, before she mocked her own skill. “Forgive me,
making others laugh is just about the only skill I have.”

“I am sure you are wrong in that.” He shook his head, still

trying to control his mirth as he took her hand again and
circled round her. She noticed how he did not look away from
the floor at all now. He only kept his eyes on her. “I am sure
you have many skills, though I will admit, humor is a
pleasant skill to have. Do not lose it, Lady Emily. Making
another smile is a rarer thing than you think.”

“Rare? No! Nonsense, I am sure.” She spoke eagerly. “Trust

me, my Lord. It is always possible to make someone smile,
even in the darkest of times.”

“Really?” he asked, looking suspicious of the idea. “Tell me

then. How would you make someone laugh when they are
truly down on their luck?”

“That is difficult to answer without knowing the

circumstances,” she said as they turned round each other the
other way. This time, he took both of her hands, illustrating
they were coming to the end of the dance. “Yet let us suggest
a situation. Had you come to this ball tonight terribly sad,
then there is a jest I could say to cheer your spirits.”

“Please do. You have me intrigued to hear it.”

She leaned toward him as they circled each other for the last
time, whispering quietly beneath the music to ensure nobody
else could hear them.

“How many poor birds had their feathers plucked out to

dress the ladies’ hair for this event do you think? I reckon all
the birds in London are bald by now.” Her jest worked
perfectly. The Marquess laughed wholeheartedly as they
came to a stop. He released her hands as he bowed and she
curtsied, smiling with triumph.

As they stood straight, he was still struggling to control his

laughter as he offered her his hand.

“Well, bravo, Lady Emily. You are quite right. How could
anyone not laugh at that?” he asked, towing her away from
the dancefloor. She was looking around, preparing herself
for parting from his company and seeking out her family.

It had been a pleasant dance indeed, and she wondered at

what this sensation was that made her tingle every time he
took her hand in the dance, but it would not last. He would
no doubt ask the blonde-haired beauty to dance now, and
Emily would have to part from that enchanting smile on the
Marquess’ face.

“Well, thank you, my Lord,” Emily said with genuine

gratitude. “I was nervous of my first dance, as you could tell
well enough, and your skill made it not only free of falls, but
greatly enjoyable.”

“I am the one who should thank you. In truth, I did not think
I would dance at all tonight, but now, I am glad I did.”

“Why did you not think you would dance?” she asked. Yet he
appeared not to have heard her, or at least pretended not to,
for he was looking around himself.

“How about a drink, Lady Emily?” he asked. “Maybe we

could find something to eat too?” He maintained his hold on
her arm and began to lead her toward the refreshments
table.
“You do not wish to dance with others?” Her surprise was
evident, for she stumbled in her effort to keep pace with
him, then blushed when she tried to cover up her trip.

“Have no fear, I will not let you fall,” he whispered to her,

the deepness of his voice as he spoke made her want to
wriggle with delight.

What is wrong with me? He is just a man. Why am I being reduced

to a creature not in control of my own body?

He seemed to avoid answering her last question as they

reached the refreshments.

“Wine or punch?” he asked, serving for her.

“Wine please. After your story of having a little too much

punch, I think it best.” At her words, he chuckled softly.

“I believe wine is just a great a danger, but I will make sure

you do not have too much.” He passed her a wine glass and
then urged a plate toward her. The two of them were
beginning to pile food onto their plates when Emily grew
aware of the Marquess’ body going rigid beside her.
“God’s wounds. Not now,” he muttered, to himself than
speaking to her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, looking up to him and

earning his gaze.

“I apologize in advance for what you are about to witness,”

he said hurriedly in a whisper to her, coming so close that it
was an action the closest of friends would have done, than
new acquaintances.

“Aaron?” a voice called to the Marquess. He grimaced, for

Emily’s eyes only, before he pinned a false smile on his face
and turned round, revealing two figures advancing toward
them. “Brother, I do believe you are avoiding me.”

“I am doing no such thing.” Lord Tattershall adopted a

nonchalant tone that had Emily watching him closely, aware
how near he stood beside her as they greeted the two
newcomers. Beside the Marquess’ brother, she was startled
to see the blonde beauty that Lord Tattershall had been
staring at earlier as they danced. “I have simply been making
new acquaintances,” Lord Tattershall said as he gestured to
her. “Lady Emily, may I introduce my brother, Lord Hugh
Forbes, and this is Miss Jane Drew. His betrothed.”

Emily was so shocked that she nearly choked on the morsel

of pastry she had placed on her mouth. She coughed a couple
of times before swallowing and hurrying to curtsy as she
looked up at the couple.

The Marquess was gazing at his brother’s betrothed?

“A pleasure to meet you.” Lord Hugh bowed to her, and Miss

Drew curtsied too.

“And you.” Emily stood straight, feeling her eyes dart

between the three people as an awkwardness settled between
them.

“How have you been, Aaron?” Lord Hugh asked.

This is not how a brother talks to a brother, is it?

“Well enough.” Lord Tattershall answered quickly before

turning back to the refreshment table and busying himself
with his plate of food.

“Our mother tells me you have spent much time in your

townhouse. Have you lost interest in our country home?”

“Somewhat, yes.”
What is going on? The thought plagued Emily as she looked
between them all. Her gaze settled on Miss Drew, wondering
why the young woman had not said a word. The lady sensed
the awkwardness at the same time, for she turned her focus
on Emily, finding some topic of small talk to partake in.

“Lady Emily, your parents have held quite the event of the
Season here tonight.” She was charming, with a voice so
melodic that Emily expected she was a wonder to behold
when she sang. Emily could not stop the envy building inside
of her, for when she sang, she sounded like a donkey that
had been struck on its rear, wailing at the sky. “Do pass on
my admiration to them both. I cannot remember a finer
night.”

“That is kind of you to say. I will tell them.” Emily assured

her with a nod, before turning her eyes to the Marquess and
his brother. The two were glaring at each other, without
blinking.

“I have just met your siblings,” Miss Drew went on. “Lady
Grace is really so beautiful. I fear what I would have been like
growing up with her at my side. I feel I would have run round
and hidden in the young lady’s shadow.”

“Yes, she is very beautiful.” Emily felt the truth of the words.
She looked down at the glass, realizing things were being
made audible that she had always known to be true.

I am the ugly soul in this family.

Yet as Miss Drew opened her lips to say more, Lord

Tattershall talked over her, stopping it from happening.

“I am sure you two have many you wish to greet here

tonight. They cannot all know of your betrothal yet.” He was
eagerly trying to get them to part, that was plain to see.

“Have you not told them all yet?” Lord Hugh asked. “I would
have thought you eager to disparage us both.”

Well, that was icy. Emily shifted on her feet, looking down at
her plate of food for something to do.

“Hugh,” Miss Drew said in a warning tone.

“What? We cannot pretend like nothing has happened.” Lord

Hugh shook his head.

Emily lifted her eyes to the Marquess, seeing the way he was
staring at his brother, it was clear he was lost for words. She
felt a discomforted pit in her stomach. Where she had
created smiles, his own brother had left nothing but upset.

“This is not the time, Hugh.” Lord Tattershall warned.

“I see you are eager to avoid conversation at all. Very well, it

is hardly as if you were ever a great delight in conversation,
is it?” Lord Hugh belittled him.

This has to end. Now. Emily could not believe what she was
witnessing, but she would not suffer it, and she was not
going to let the man beside her suffer it either.

“Lord Tattershall, would you accompany me to a table so we

can sit to eat our food?” She turned to him with her words,
offering a small smile to show she was giving him a way out
of this situation. “Even if others do not find your
conversation delightful,” she paused, shooting a glance at
Lord Hugh, “you must know others do.”

The Marquess’ eyebrows lifted on his forehead, clearly

startled by her easy defense of him.

“Shall we?” she asked, gesturing to where there was a free

table.
“I’d be glad to.” He picked up his own plate and followed her
away from the couple. The further they moved, the more she
could see his body began to relax. When they sat down in two
free chairs at the table, she turned her body toward him.

“Forgive my words, for I do not truly know what I just

witnessed, but I felt compelled to extricate you from the
situation.” She hurried to explain herself, but he shook his
head, as if trying to brush off her apology.

“I am grateful for it. In fact, I cannot tell you how much.” He

looked away from her, across the room to where Lord Hugh
and Miss Drew were talking quietly together, before he
turned his gaze back toward Emily. “I do not really know
how to say this, Lady Emily, but I suppose the best way is to
be open about such things.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, picking up a bite of food as

he focused on her.

“Miss Drew was the lady I thought I would marry someday.”

“I beg your pardon?” Emily asked, dropping the food back

down to her plate.
 CHAPTER THREE

W hy did I tell her that?

Aaron could not really explain it to himself. He stared at

Lady Emily over his glass of punch for a minute, struggling
to make sense of his own thoughts. The truth had just fallen
from his lips.

The lady before him had somehow inspired trust in the space
of one dance. He could not deny he liked her. She was witty,
astute, and so humorous that the excuse to laugh was a great
relief to him, but how had that all culminated into trust?

“You might have to say a little more, my Lord.” She leaned

toward him conspiratorially. “The must be more to this
tale.”

“A lot more.” He sighed and sat back in his chair, finding

with Lady Emily’s large dark blue eyes on him, the whole
tale came out. Her blue eyes were darker than Jane’s, but he
liked that. They were the color of the sky at dusk. “Miss
Drew practically grew up with my brother and me. Miss Drew
and I were pushed together often in that time. It is not
difficult to say that we were practically joined at the hip, so
attached to one another that others thought we were already
courting by the time we both made our debuts.”

Lady Emily immediately frowned, tilting her head to the side

in wonder.

“Yes, it does not make sense, does it?”

“It does beg the question why is she now on your brother’s
arm and not yours,” she said softly.

“I had just asked her to court me when I found her…” He

struggled. What had felt easy to utter a few seconds before
became difficult.

“You found her?” Lady Emily asked, smiling slightly. “This

sentence could end in anything from you found her in your
brother’s arms to you found her chasing rabbits in your
garden. How does it end?”

He laughed. It was sudden and startled him out of the

darkness that had rested on his shoulders. How was it that
Lady Emily’s unpredictable humor could make him smile
even when he was recalling the most horrible moment of his
adult life?

“Well, sadly, it is the former,” he said with a sigh, stopping

his laughter. “It was a compromising position indeed.” The
mere memory of it made him fidget in his seat. He could still
remember vividly pushing open the sitting room door,
looking for Jane, only to find her in his brother’s arm, locked
in not only passionate embrace, but a kiss that would have
made anyone blush.

“I see. Marriage has to be on the horizon then.”

“Yes, she was given a choice.”

“Oh…” Lady Emily cottoned on without him having to say

anymore. He busied himself with eating as she drew her own
conclusions. “Both you and Lord Hugh offered to marry her,
and she chose your brother?” He nodded at her words, just
once. Hearing it uttered by another made his palms clammy
as he adjusted the napkin on his lap. “Good lord, how
awful!” Lady Emily’s response was animated and heartfelt to
say the least.

“That is why we are a little awkward in each other’s

company,” he whispered to her. “As you saw.”
“A little awkward?” She smiled a little. “I am sure criminals
appear in docks at courts with less awkwardness than the
three of your felt.”

“You have a habit of making me laugh, Lady Emily.” He

chuckled and turned away from his food, looking to her
again.

“Well, I am glad I could help you to forget such a horrid

thing for a brief time. Though I do have one question to ask
you, if I may.”

“Do, go on.” He encouraged her with a wave of his hand.

“Why did you tell me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You trusted me with something that is truly painful, and

tonight is the first time we have met.” She looked up from
her food, fixing those dark blue eyes on him. He found his
breath hitching, either from her words or the intensity of
that gaze, he was not sure which. “Why tell me, my Lord?”
“In truth…” He paused and scratched the back of his neck, a
nervous habit he found himself returning to. “I do not know.
Perhaps it is the desperation to tell someone the truth of
what really happened, or maybe, it is just the belief that you
could understand it. I do not know why I think that.”

“I am flattered indeed. One dance and I have earned your

trust! Clearly my skills at dancing are better than I ever gave
them credit for.” Her words made him laugh again, shaking
his head in bemusement at how easy it was to laugh with
her.

Maybe this is why I trusted her with this information. She has
made me smile tonight more than I have smiled in months.

“I must confess, I am truly sorry for what has happened to

you, my Lord.” She went on, picking at her food as she
spoke. “I have never had the good fortune to be in love, but I
have had my nose buried in enough books to know the kind
of pain heartbreak can cause. I am deeply sorry for you. I do
not mean just the heartbreak of a romantic love, but the pain
of family love too.”

Aaron paused, waiting for her to go on.

“My family and I are awfully close. Had any of them treated
me in such a way.” She hesitated, looking baffled at the mere
idea. “It would devastate me. Your brother, the man who
should be your truest friend in this world betrayed you. That
is perhaps the most heartbreaking thing of the whole tale.”

“There.” He found himself lifting a hand and gesturing in

her direction.

“There what?” she asked, looking over the rim of her wine
glass.

“Somehow my instinct was right. You truly do understand

the situation, and have guessed what I feel, even without me
having to tell you.”

“It is no great skill, my Lord.”

“Oh, I think it is.”

“It is merely the thought of someone who knows what

family means to us all.” She looked up from her food and
nodded her head across the room. “My family. Somewhat
wild at heart, all of them, true romantics they are. We all say
foolish things in our time. Yet I would not change them for
anyone in the world.”
Aaron followed her gaze, looking toward the Earl and
Countess of Dowding who had greeted him earlier that
evening. The two were hand in hand as they talked to their
guests, looking truly the happy couple.

“Would you introduce me?” he asked, finding a sudden

keenness to know them better. “They invited my parents to
this event, and I was an extension of that invitation. I met
them earlier of course, but there was a lengthy line of guests
and I do not believe I exchanged above three words with your
parents.”

“Of course, come with me.” Lady Emily finished her food
and beckoned him to his feet. Aaron found it easy to follow
her across the room, not wanting to leave this woman’s side.

Perhaps it is the good humor. It is keeping me beside her, like a

magnet.

“Mama? Papa?” Lady Emily called for their attention. The

couple turned round, each one’s smile growing wider as they
looked at their daughter. The Earl’s once copperish hair was
greying, matching the close-cropped beard at his chin, and
the Countess’ chestnut hair was coiffed elegantly, matching
the refined features and large blue eyes that her daughter
had inherited.
“Emily? Are you enjoying your debut?” the Countess asked,
looking so thrilled that she practically bobbed on her toes as
she spoke.

“I am.” Lady Emily sounded startled by her own words.

“More than I expected.”

“Thank God for that,” her father said and wiped his brow.
“You had me worried after tonight I’d never be able to peel
you away from the library again. You might hide there and
refuse to come out.”

“It may still happen, Papa, I make no promises.” Lady

Emily’s jest made them all laugh before she turned and
introduced Aaron. “This is Lord Tattershall, I believe you
met him briefly earlier tonight?”

“Yes, Lord Tattershall. I have known your father for some

time.” The Earl of Dowding stepped forward and offered his
hand to Aaron. “It is a pleasure to meet you at all.”

“And you, my Lord.”

“I have heard much of you of course, and you live up to a lot

of what he said. Perhaps a little taller though.” He nodded
his head at Aaron’s superior height. “We must all look small
to your eyes.”
“Not at all,” Aaron said, chuckling. At once he could see
where Lady Emily got her good humor. Her father had a
similar talent when it came to wit and putting people at their
ease.

“What a handsome young man too!” the Countess declared

as she stood beside him, gazing up at him.

Aaron flinched, fearing what was coming next. He was a

Marquess after all, someday destined to be the next Duke of
Parson. He had been to enough events of the ton to know
what it was like to have parents thrust young ladies under
his nose, all hoping their daughter would be the next
Duchess. He fully prepared himself for the Countess to begin
gushing about her daughter’s virtues, when in fact, she did
nothing of the sort.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself, my Lord,” she said,

clearly with much eagerness. “We have planned so much for
the event, all I truly wanted was for people to enjoy their
evening.”

Aaron found his eyes slipping toward Lady Emily,

involuntarily. She was looking back up at him, waiting for
his reply, with those dark auburn curls escaping her updo.
He felt a temptation to brush one of those curls away behind
her ear, revealing a little more of her face. He kept his hands
firmly at his side.

Have you lost control of yourself, man? He reprimanded his

thoughts as he turned back to Lady Dowding, answering her
honestly.

“I can honestly say I am enjoying myself, much to my

surprise.”

“I am thrilled to hear it!” Lady Dowding declared.

“Ah, that time has come again.” The Earl retrieved a pocket
watch from his waistcoat as he spoke.

“No, not tonight, Papa, please?” Lady Emily pleaded with

him.

“Time for what?” Aaron asked, looking between all of them.

“You honestly wish to play this game at my debut?” Lady

Emily asked, rolling her eyes.

“A game?” Aaron repeated in wonder.

“You will have to forgive us all.” She pretended to whisper to
him conspiratorially, though naturally her parents could
both hear and laughed at her manner. “My family are fond of
a little game at events such as this.”

“What kind of game?” Aaron asked with intrigue.

“We find it breaks up the small talk,” the Earl said with a
wink. “We all need a break from that at times, do we not?”

“Very true indeed.”

“My Lord, you are welcome to join us in our little game if

you like?” the Countess asked.

“Mama, poor Lord Tattershall has been forced enough into

my company. Pray, do not pressure him anymore. It is a
wonder I did not stand on his toes when we were dancing. I
would not have blamed him for running away from me after
that.” Lady Emily’s words made Aaron turn to her with a
smile.

Why would I wish to part from this lady’s company?

“On the contrary, you have me intrigued by your game, and
quite frankly, you are the best company I have met all night.
I would be delighted to join you.”

“That is wonderful!” Lady Dowding said with glee. “Then

come quickly. We must find Emily’s brother and sister.”

As they all wandered off, meandering through the crowd,

Aaron turned to Lady Emily, seeing her raise her eyebrows.

“I hope you are prepared for what you have got yourself into,
my Lord.”

“You make me tremble in my shoes, Lady Emily.” He jested,

delighted to find he could make her laugh too.

They crossed the room where they promptly found Lord and
Lady Bolton, who Aaron had met before, and Lady Grace
Bolton, the elder sister of Lady Emily.

“What is this game then?” Aaron asked looking between the

faces around him expectantly.

“It is riddles, so I hope you have come with an active mind

tonight.” Lord Bolton rubbed his hands together
enthusiastically, making all the young ladies groan around
him, especially Lady Emily at Aaron’s side. “What?” Lord
Bolton asked innocently.

“Be prepared, Lord Tattershall. My brother is merciless at

this game. He likes to win, and he often does, but only by
making it nigh on impossible for the rest of us to answer his
questions.” Lady Emily shot a playful glare her brother’s
way, making him smile.

“With that kind of review, I have no choice but to live up to

my reputation. Very well, I will go first.” He paused for a few
minutes, looking around the group before his eyes lit up.
“Right, here we go… My first affliction denotes, which my
second is destined to feel. My whole is the best antidote that
affliction will soften and heal.”

Silence followed the riddle, with the whole family looking

round at each other in wonder. Soon, they were all heaping
playful curses on Lord Bolton’s head, saying he had made it
far too difficult, just as the answer occurred to Aaron.

Another word for affliction was ‘woe’, and a man was

destined to suffer such woes. The answer was woman, for
who else could heal a man’s woes?

“Woman.” Aaron’s answer cut through the playful mockery,

making Lord Bolton smile and flick his fingers in his
direction.

“He is right!”

“Oh, well done, Lord Tattershall.” The Countess cried

eagerly at his side. “It must be your turn now. Can you think
of a riddle?”

Aaron was startled by all the praise given in his direction,

even Lady Emily was looking up to him with those large eyes
of hers wide. He liked it, hoping she would keep looking at
him in such a way.

“I have one,” he said eventually. “My first descends from

our eternal skies. A winged weapon from my second flies. In
my whole, colors will be seen, yellow and blue, as well as red
and green.”

He had read it once in one of the magazine sheets delivered

at the club. He waited, looking around the group, just as Lady
Grace sighed.

“I think we have met someone almost as difficult as Arthur

with his riddles. How are we supposed to get that?”
“It’s a rainbow.” Lady Emily’s voice made them all snap
their gaze toward her. Aaron smiled instantly, amazed to see
not only had she got the answer, but within seconds. “Rain
falls from the skies, and an arrow comes from a bow, the
winged weapon. Am I right?” she asked, looking up to Aaron
with hope. Even if she had been wrong, he thought he would
have said yes just to see that smile again.

“Just so,” he said, toasting her with his glass. “Your turn,
Lady Emily.”

The game continued for some time, with each riddle being
tossed back and forth, getting faster and faster and answered
with such alacrity that Aaron realized what clever minds
were around him. The more he was with them, the more he
forgot there was a ball at all, just wanting to indulge in these
few minutes that allowed him to escape the hubbub of the
other guests.

Especially Hugh and Jane.

“Well, I suppose we should stop ignoring our guests now,”

Lord Dowding said with a clap of his hands. “Off you go, all
of you. Go dancing, talking, drinking, no not too much.” He
added the latter with a warning glare at his son.

“I was only drunk once,” Lord Arthur said with complaint as

they all parted ways, chuckling.
“Yes, but you were so loud I could hear you upstairs,” Lady
Emily’s jest made Aaron laugh further.

Aaron could scarcely believe what had happened. He had

spent goodness knows how long in this family’s company,
with Lady Emily at his side, and found he had enjoyed it
more than any other event.

“I hope my family didn’t baffle you too much,” Lady Emily

said as she led the way back to the refreshments table.
Behind Aaron, Lord and Lady Bolton followed the two of
them.

“We can be quite a handful. You should be wary of us!” Lord

Tattershall said, making his voice deep, as if they were the
spookiest thing Aaron could ever find.

“On the contrary, I enjoyed myself more than I can say. My

family does not do such things.”

“What do you mean?” Lady Emily asked as she passed him a

fresh glass of punch.
“Well, they are not so high spirited for a start.” He struggled
to explain any more. In truth, the more he looked at the
family that surrounded Lady Emily, he found envy growing
within him. It was the pleasant kind, wishing he could be a
part of such a happy group.

“You may have to put up with our high spirits a little more
yet,” Lord Bolton said as he passed a glass of wine to his
wife. “Are you coming to Sir Harold Jacobs’ dinner part this
Friday? I hear most families here are to attend.”

Aaron opened his lips to say no. The only reason he had
agreed to attend this event was to keep his mother happy. He
had previously decided he would not attend the dinner party,
and that was that, but as his eyes fell on Lady Emily, he
found a different answer falling from his lips.

“Yes. I will be there.”

Why on earth did I say that?

 CHAPTER FOUR

“W hat a mess indeed,” Charity exclaimed as she

hurried past Emily in the hall. “I’m thrilled the ball
was a success last night, but I quite forgot how much mess
these events can make.”

Emily followed her mother, aware that Charity was looking

so much at the flowers she had taken down in her hands, she
was not paying attention to where she was putting her feet.

“Mama, watch out!” Emily called, just stopping Charity from

walking into a poor maid who was trying to urge the fire in
the hallway fire into life.

“Oops! Sorry, dear,” Charity said hurriedly to the maid.

“Thank you, Emily!” she called back as she hurried out of
the room. Emily offered an apologetic smile to the maid
before she gazed around the room.
It was true that the clean-up from the ball was difficult, with
even the marble floor beneath her feet betraying muddy
footprints from their guests’ shoes. Emily bent down to pick
up a few discarded dance cards that must have been dropped
and deposited them on a side table, trying to be of some use
to the maids, when above the side table, something caught
her eye.

It was her own reflection in the mirror. So little did she look
at her reflection that she startled herself as she looked up
into it.

Chewing her lip, she observed the auburn curls that had
refused to be tamed that morning, trying their best to escape
their updo. She thought her cheeks were a little chubby and
she prodded them with her fingers for a minute before
letting her fingers fall at her side.

Why did the Marquess dance with me last night?

The thought cut through sharply, making her gaze at her

reflection a little longer. She could not quite understand it.
She had felt terribly sorry for him when hearing the tale of
how Miss Drew had chosen his brother over him. After that,
she would not have been surprised to find the man keeping
to himself for much of the night, yet he did not. He stayed by
her side and with her family.
“I am sure he could have found better company,” she
whispered into the mirror, as though her reflection could
offer a reasoned answer to her wonderings. A handsome man
like him, destined to be Duke someday, must have had no
shortage of dance offers, yet he had not danced again. Emily
was the only dance he had.

There was a gentle tap on the front door, urging Emily to

turn her head and walk toward it, leaving the reflection
behind her. As she advanced toward it, the butler bustled
forward, pulling the door open wide.

For one minute, Emily thought a magnificent bunch of

flowers had somehow managed to climb the stairs and knock
on the door all by itself, perhaps using one of the flower
heads to do the job. For the bouquet was so large, it was
almost impossible to see the man carrying it until he stepped
forward, revealing thin lanky legs that moved into the
entrance hall, shooting out the bottom of the bouquet.

“Oh my, what is this?” a familiar voice cried. Emily turned

round to see Julia had emerged from the breakfast room,
staring at the bouquet with equal wonder. “That is not a
cheap bunch of flowers.”

“How expensive do you think?” Emily asked as the deliverer

placed the flowers on the hall table Emily had been stood by
a minute before.
“Pricey,” Julia whispered to her in a hiss. “Someone must
wish to pay a big compliment indeed.”

“Are we talking the price of a book? Or mortgaging a house

to afford them?” Emily asked with a smile, earning a playful
tap around the arm from Julia.

“Somewhere in the middle.”

“A card came with it, my ladies.” The young man nodded his
head and placed the card down on the table before he hurried
off out the door. The moment the door was closed, Julia and
Emily jumped toward the table, each one eagerly trying to be
the first to get the card. Emily snatched it up first, but only
because she managed to bump Julia out of the way.

“Oh, you are too quick!”

“You mean I am bigger than you and able to knock you out
the way.”

“For the last time,” Julia said with a huff, placing her hands
on her hips. “You are not big.”
“That would be more convincing if you did not look like you
needed to eat a few cream buns.” Emily gestured to Julia’s
slender stature with the card before she pulled a slip of paper
out of the carded envelope. Julia looked ready to argue
further, but evidently the way Emily’s body froze stopped
her.

“What is it?” she asked.

The name that was left in cursive handwriting at the bottom

of the card momentarily gave Emily hope.

“They’re from the Marquess of Tattershall,” she said a little

breathlessly.

“Oh my! See? Am I not a wonder at matchmaking!” Julia did

a little dance beside Emily.

Is it possible? Emily wondered. Is there a chance he felt that

same excitement when he danced with me last night? She
thought of every time he took her hand and the tingling that
followed it, as well as the way his smile warmed her bones.
Then her eyes settled on the rest of the note.

“Do not take delight just yet, Julia. I think your romantic
nature has run away with you.” Emily spoke hurriedly,
trying to cover up any disappointment she felt.
“What do you mean?” Julia asked, running round Emily to
stand on her shoulder to read the note with her.

‘To the Earl of Dowding and his family,

Consider this a small token of my gratitude. Last night I attended

the ball with what can only be described as apprehension, and yet
your family’s company turned the event into something that was
not just bearable, but incredibly enjoyable. I know not how to
thank you for it. I truly look forward to seeing you all again.

Your friend,

The Marquess of Tattershall.’

“Oh, well this is still good.” Julia was clearly trying to

maintain an upbeat tone. “He danced with you, did he not?”

“Do not be foolish, Julia. Abandon any attempt you have at

seeing me matched with Lord Tattershall. That is something
beyond reach.”
“I do not think so.” Julia kept her strength in her voice, just
as others walked into the room. Charity was first, followed
by Arthur and Grace, who all at once gushed over the flowers.

“Are they for you, Emily?” Charity asked. “Don’t tell me, are
they from Lord Tattershall?”

“That was a lucky guess, Mama, but they are not for –”

“Maybe we will have wedding bells before summer is out!”

Grace sang, picking up one of the white roses from the
bouquet and burying her nose in the petals. “He certainly
has good taste in flowers. Roses, Mama, look?”

“Wait!” Emily said, too insistently. She at once regretted it

from the way her family all turned sudden glances at her.
“They are not for me.” She tried to offer a smile to soften
her harsh tone. “They are for all of us, a kindness from Lord
Tattershall. Look.” She pushed the note under their eyes.

“Oh, I see.” Charity was quickly trying to cover up her

disappointment. “Well, that is a kind thing indeed, but I will
not lose hope yet.”

“Lose hope? Why are you hoping at all?” Emily tried to find
some jest to make on the situation, hoping to cover up any
disappointment she felt. “Mama, to hope after my debut that
I would find a man to marry is a little quick, is it not?”
Charity nodded slowly, though she still looked saddened.
“Have no fear, I have many nights yet to make a man fall
madly in love with me. How could every man resist?” Emily
mocked herself, watching as Julia and Grace offered smiles.

“I am sorry, Emily. It is just…” Charity placed the cards with

the flowers. “I thought he was nice.”

“He was nice; indeed, he was.” Emily nodded in agreement.

“But rest no hopes on Lord Tattershall, Mama.” She placed a
hand on her mother’s shoulder in comfort. “His heart is with
another.”

“I see.” Charity nodded.

Emily felt her heart sink the moment she thought of Miss
Drew. It hardly mattered that the woman was betrothed
elsewhere. The way that the Marquess had gazed at her made
his feelings plain to see.

He is still in love with her.

“They are indeed beautiful flowers.” Emily smiled

nonchalantly, trying to move the conversation on and escape
the saddened looks that were pointed in her direction. “If
you would excuse me, I am going to read for a while.” She
hurried off.

Emily looked back only once to see that Arthur was staring
after her, with a worried gaze in his expression. She felt as
though he could see into her, what she was truly feeling in
that perceptive way of his. Emily chose to turn away from
him, not allowing him to perceive any more in her behavior.

She escaped quickly to the library where she found the book
that she had been reading the day before and picked it up
with both hands, clutching it tightly. She scampered into a
far corner, finding a nook within the tall mahogany
bookshelves, and hiding her body within, before opening the
pages and returning to her tale.

‘Elizabeth was not blind. She knew the Captain of the ship stared
at her often. In just the few short days they had been on their
voyage, she had caught him staring at her many times, yet
whenever she attempted to make conversation with him, her
father drew her away, muttering things under his breath.

‘A Captain is no company for a lady, Elizabeth,’ he said darkly.

Elizabeth began to wonder though how wrong her father was,

especially each time she felt the Captain’s green eyes upon her.’
Emily broke off from the text as she realized what she was
doing. In her mind’s eye, she had changed the Captain’s
green eyes to blue, so dark that they were almost the color of
midnight, the same shade that could be found in Lord
Tattershall’s eyes. That was not all, for she was imagining
Lord Tattershall in a Captain’s uniform, striding aboard a
deck, and gazing in her direction.

Then the image changed again, for he was not looking her
way. He was looking to a blonde-haired beauty that stood
behind her, waving delicately in a ‘come-hither’ way in his
direction.

“What am I doing?” Emily muttered to herself angrily as she

returned to her text. “I have met a man once and apparently
have let go of any real sense I have.”

“Well, maybe it is not such a bad idea.” Aaron placed down

the card from his mother inviting him for tea and found
himself ordering the carriage to attend. He had avoided such
invitations for a while, but why should he on a morning like
this? The sun seemed brighter, the flowers bloomed a little
more, and even the butler’s happy humming did not irk him
today. Instead, Aaron found himself joining in, much to the
humor of the butler.

When the carriage came round, Aaron eagerly climbed inside

and headed to his parents’ estate on the edge of London. He
did not think of what it would be like to see his brother if he
was around, he thought only of the night before at the ball
and what a wonderful time he had.

He found himself trying to come up with new exciting

riddles, planning to use them if he was ever so fortunate to
join in the Dowding’s game again, yet his mind kept turning
back to Lady Emily too, wondering if he’d have the
opportunity to dance with her another time.

He was so lost in thought that the journey to the estate took

no time at all. He clambered down from the carriage to meet
the butler who escorted him across the fine lawn of the
estate, toward a table and chairs that had been set up in the
knot garden where his mother sat, shielding her eyes against
the sun.

“Aaron!” she declared happily, jumping to her feet as he

approached. He embraced he warmly as he reached her. Her
once black hair was beginning to grey, having a delightful
salt and pepper effect, but her eyes were as alert and alight
as they ever were. As they stepped back from their embrace,
it was these eyes that turned on him with excitement. “We
have much to talk of.”

“Do we?” he asked as he took his seat beside her. “First, tell
me how you are.”
“No, do not speak of me, I wish to speak of you! It has been
so long since you have been here. I wish to know…are you
truly well, Aaron?” He knew what she was asking. Where his
father had always been quite absent, his mother had been
very attentive. What she was truly asking was if he was
happy.

“This morning, yes.” He answered with the truth. “I felt a

lightness last night that seems to have changed my outlook
this morning.”

“I am delighted to hear it.” She squeezed his shoulder

lovingly before she reached forward to pour the tea for them
both. “Tell me about who you met at the ball last night. I
could have sworn you spent most of the night on young Lady
Emily’s arm. Am I right – eek!” She squealed as she almost
dropped the teapot.

“Mother? Is something wrong?” he asked, taking the teapot

from her, and placing it down on the table. With her gaze
past his shoulder, he grew aware of the problem. He turned
in his seat to see Hugh approaching, with so much vigor and
purpose in his stride, Aaron was in no doubt that Hugh had
come uninvited to the tea.

“I am sorry, Aaron,” Joyce whispered hurriedly.

“Please, mother, do not apologize.” He hated how pained his
mother looked knowing the two of them were at war. As
Hugh stopped beside them, he fidgeted on his feet, looking
extremely uncomfortable. Aaron stared up at him, not
standing to greet him. If Hugh had something to say, Aaron
would wait to hear it.

“I have come to apologize,” Hugh said slowly.

“What for? Your behavior last night?” Aaron asked,

remembering the way Hugh had disparaged him in front of
Lady Emily. It lacked any kind of respect and decorum,
merely making his resentment for his brother fester further.

“No. You know what I am apologizing for.” Hugh looked at

him pointedly.

“Ah, you wish to apologize for inducing Miss Drew into a

compromising situation.” Aaron summed up the problem,
watching as his mother flinched beside them, staring down
at her teacup.

“It is not as simple as that.” Hugh spoke hurriedly.

“Anyway, I am here to make my apology.”

“If you meant the apology, you would have given it months
ago. When the event occurred.”
“You refuse to accept my apology?” Hugh asked, waving at
him with derision.

“On the contrary, I’ll accept it, when I believe you mean it.”
He knew the words were cold, but he could not hold himself
back from speaking the truth. Hugh did not mean the
apology, he seemed to be making it under duress. “Hugh, I
grew up beside you. I watched you apologize to our mother
when you did things wrong and didn’t mean it, you think I
cannot tell when you are lying now?” Aaron’s words seemed
to take down any last resilience Hugh had.

“Fine, be miserable for all I care.” Hugh threw the words in

Aaron’s direction before he marched back in the direction of
the house, cursing, and kicking flower heads over on route to
the house.

“Hugh, the flowers!” Joyce called after him, but he clearly

did not care. She lifted her eyes to meet Aaron’s gaze and
sniffed, showing she was holding back tears.

“I am sorry, mother. You shouldn’t have to see this.” Aaron

patted the back of her hand.

“All I want is for you both to be happy.”

“I know.” Aaron offered her a sad sort of smile, knowing the
truth, that it was not necessarily something that was
possible, especially now they had fallen out so badly. That
argument was perhaps the most they had spoken in months.

“Can we talk of something else?” Joyce asked, leaning

toward him. “What of Lady Emily? You seemed greatly
enamored by her company last night.”

“She is a fine lady.” Aaron was happy to admit it with a firm

nod. “Yet do not look at me with such hope, mother.”

“Why not?” She looked deflated as she passed him a piece of

cake.

“I respect the lady, I like her, that I am happy to admit, but it

means no more than that.” He was not willing to admit
openly that he had barely stopped thinking of her all night.
That was a problem he had to work out in his own head.

“No more? Why not?” Joyce asked, her voice noticeably

quiet.

“Because I had already fallen in love, mother.” Aaron sighed

with the words. “I pictured marrying one woman only. That
was my one shot. Clearly, that was not to be, and I must now
watch her marry Hugh.”
Joyce sniffed again, betraying how close to tears she was.

“We all thought you would marry Jane. It surprised us all.”

She lifted her chin, trying to smile though her eyes glistened
with the unshed tears she was holding back. “You know
dearest, it is possible to fall in love more than once in your
life.”

“Is it?” he asked, holding onto his skeptical tone.

“It is. You have to trust me in that.”

“What makes you say that, mother?” Aaron asked, noting

the way she abruptly avoided his gaze. “Wait…have you loved
more than one person?”

“What a beautiful day it is, do you not think?”

She changed the topic entirely, leaving Aaron staring at her

with his mouth open. Was it possible his mother had loved
another beside his father?
 CHAPTER FIVE

“T here you are, Lord Tattershall.” Lord Bolton

approached Aaron barely two minutes after he
entered the dinner party.

He had greeted Sir Harold Jacobs who stood at the door,

welcoming all his guests, and was now wandering around
the room, doing his best to avoid having to talk to Hugh and
Jane that were huddled together in a corner. He cast just one
glance there way, feeling his stomach curdle when Jane
placed a hand on Hugh’s arm. When Lord Bolton found him,
Aaron was only too happy to be distracted from his thoughts.

“Here I am,” Aaron said, bowing to Lord Bolton as he did

him.

“There is much I want to talk to you about. I have not

forgotten we have not yet finished our debate on politics
from the other night.”
“Yes, I am interested to see who will win that one.” Aaron
was pleased by the exchange. When he had discussed politics
with Lord Bolton, he had been amazed that it was a free
discussion, with no sign of an argument in sight. He was
even more amazed when Lady Emily had joined in, with
opinions that Aaron felt refreshingly challenged his own.

“That must be saved for later. I am glad you’re here; I was

wondering if you could do me a favor,” Lord Bolton
whispered to him, leading him further into the room.

“Of course, if you’ll let me play that game of riddles with

your family again.”

“Ha! You are more than welcome to join,” Lord Bolton said
with a laugh. “Did we whet your appetite for more? Let me
guess. Like me you have been coming up with some hard
ones in your spare time?”

“I find it strangely addictive,” Aaron confessed, earning a

nod of agreement from Lord Bolton.

“Just so. Though, do not tell Emily I research my riddles too.

She’ll jump on me for trying too hard to win.” He shuddered
at the thought. “I could do without her turning her jests on
me!” He spoke playfully, clearly showing that in truth he
minded no such thing.
“What was the favor you needed from me?” Aaron asked. His
eyes turned around from Lord Bolton, looking around the
room. At the mention of Lady Emily, he began looking for
her.

Where is she?

“I believe you might be looking for the very thing I need help
with.” Lord Bolton’s perceptive words made Aaron snatch
his gaze back to him. “Look at you. Like a deer caught at the
end of a hunter’s pistol. Have no fear, I am not going to
press you into marrying my sister.”

Aaron could not help sighing with relief. It was something he

had noted at the ball earlier in the week. In the company of
the Earl of Dowing’s family, not one of them had tried to
encourage a match between them. It made Aaron relax,
feeling he was safe to enjoy this friendship without
expectation.

“However, it is Emily I need your help with. Take a look.” He

gestured over his shoulder, far behind him. Aaron looked
beyond, seeing Lady Emily was talking with two gentlemen.

“Who is she talking to?”

“The gentlemen are the Nelson brothers. You must be able to
read the bored expression on my sister’s face.”

“It is unmistakable.” Aaron whistled in amazement. Lady

Emily was clearly doing her best to cover it up, but it was no
use. Her smile did not last long. It was a far cry from how she
had been with Aaron at the ball, always jesting and smiling.

“I would extract her from their company myself, but the

elder Nelson once had an eye for Julia.”

“Your wife?” Aaron asked.

“Just so.” Lord Bolton grimaced, clearly showing how he

really felt. “He proved himself a cruel man, and I would
avoid him. I have a feeling if I go to Emily’s side at this
moment, that man will simply start insulting the both of us.
I fear he has something against my family entirely now. If
you would, could you extract my sister for me?”

“Of course.” Aaron found no hesitation in his answer. A lady

like Lady Emily should not be sad. She should always be
smiling. “Leave it with me.” He clapped Lord Bolton on the
arm and walked off, listening as Lord Bolton called his
thanks after him.
Aaron appeared to do the round of guests, greeting people
with bobs of his head and the occasional word, before he
made a beeline straight for Lady Emily. She looked up at his
approach, her lips quivering into a smile.

There. That is how you should always be.

Aaron found his eyes drifting down her again, admiring the
Pomona green gown she was wearing. The column-style left
little to the imagination of her figure and the curves made
him parched, adjusting the suddenly tight cravat around his
throat.

Stop thinking of such things! Have you lost all ability to be a

gentleman?

He reprimanded himself, finding his mind thinking of things

he had once thought of with Jane.

“Lord Tattershall,” Lady Emily said, curtsying in greeting.

“Have you met Lord Nelson, and his brother Lord
Fitzwilliam?”

“How do you do.” Aaron bowed to them all and turned his
attention back to Lady Emily, parting his lips ready to say
something to extract her from their company when he was
spoken over.
“I was just saying to Lady Emily how lovely it is to see her
here.” Lord Nelson spoke up, earning both of their attention.
The words sounded a little stranger to Aaron’s mind, spoken
in a cold way. He felt his body stiffen, preparing himself for
what was coming next. “We were talking of her family. What
an odd bunch they all make. It is quite amusing to see them.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aaron flinched.

“Well, Lord Bolton, a somewhat foolish man, is he not?

Never a serious word. Lady Grace, I imagine she might be the
most superior of the siblings. Then Lady Emily here. She is
the odd one out. She doesn’t quite have the elegance of her
sister, does she?”

Aaron could not believe what he had heard. He perfectly

understood what Lord Bolton had been referring to before. It
seemed Lord Nelson held such anger against the whole
family now that he was happy to take his revenge on
someone who had nothing to do with the entire affair.

“What did you say?” Aaron asked, daring Lord Nelson to say
it again. The man lifted his sniggering lips out of his glass,
returning Aaron’s gaze. His brother at his side pretended
interest in his own glass, looking like he wished to
disappear.
“I was merely referring to –”

“Would you actually dare to say such a thing again?” Aaron

turned his tone darker, watching as the smile began to waver
on Lord Nelson’s lips.

“My Lord,” Lady Emily’s voice was quiet at his side. “It is
not important.”

“Not important?” He flicked his head toward her,

incredulous. “I will not let such a man insult you so.”

“He meant nothing by it. He only meant to take his own

enjoyment by making another feel small.” Her astute words
made Lord Nelson shift on his feet.

“Just so, I agree with you, yet that doesn’t make his words
anymore forgivable.” Aaron lifted his eyes from her back to
Lord Nelson. “Apologize.” Aaron’s order made Lord Nelson
lower his glass completely, with his lips parting.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have insulted the lady. For nothing more than your
own amusement, as she has pointed out. I suppose you may
be a man who takes delight in hurting others, but I will not
stand for it. Apologize to her. Now.” Aaron was not going to
let the matter slide.

He was aware of Lady Emily sliding her hand through his

arm and tugging there, as if trying to pull him away from the
fray, but he kept his feet firmly planted in the ground, he
would not move. “Duels are fought over insults, Lord Nelson.
I would hurry up with your apology.” Aaron’s threat was
enough.

“I apologize.” Lord Nelson turned his eyes on Lady Emily as

he spoke. “I meant no insult with my words.”

“Apology accepted.” Lady Emily tugged on Aaron’s arm

another time, on this occasion succeeding with pulling him
away.

Emily could still hear the words being repeated in her head
as she led Lord Tattershall away from Lord Nelson and his
brother. She had no wish to go over the matter, yet her heart
would not settle. It might as well have dropped into her
stomach by the deadened feeling that bloomed there.

I knew it. She thought to herself. This is how I will always be

seen by the ton.
“You did not have to do that,” she whispered to Lord
Tattershall as they crossed the room together.

“Do what? Insist he apologize?” He still sounded irked, his

manner refusing to be calm. She looked to him, startled by
the vivacity within him. His words to Lord Nelson had
showed courage, and honor.

“How about threatening to duel the man over something so

trivial?” She tried to laugh at the words, though they did not
last long. She was aware of a bell being rang to announce
dinner was being served. She felt Lord Tattershall escorting
her into the dining room as they continued to discuss the
matter. “A duel would have been a little over the top, do you
not think?”

“Well, I did not quite threaten to duel him. I merely

mentioned dueling. It made him listen, did it not?” He
smiled with a kind of victory, pulling her first real laugh
from her. “I hope you are unharmed by his insult.” He led
her forward into the dining room. She expected him to
deliver her to where her family were sitting at the table and
leave her there, but as he pulled out a chair for her to sit, to
her surprise, he took the chair beside her.

“I am unharmed.” She lied a little. It did hurt, how could it

not? “But have no fear. It was nothing I did not know about
myself already.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lord Tattershall seemed so stunned by
her words that he nearly fell out of the chair as he sat in it.

“Whatever you said to our new friend, Emily, you scared the
poor man out of his wits,” her father said from across the
table.

“He scares easily.” She continued the jest, making others

laugh. As they all settled into their seats, she grew aware of
Lord Tattershall still staring at her. “The food is that way,
my Lord.” She urged him to look forward down at his plate.

“I am still recovering from what you just said.” He leaned

her way and whispered to her, clearly keen for no one else to
hear at the table. “Surely you do not mean that. You cannot
think what Lord Nelson just said is true about yourself.”

“Why should I not?” she asked. It was the truth of the matter
after all. As a server stepped forward to serve her wine, she
was urged to lean closer to Lord Tattershall too. She
immediately regretted it. Being so close to him, she found
herself enveloped in his scent. It smelled of spices and bay
leaves, suggesting he wore some sort of exotic scent. When
she found herself involuntarily leaning more toward him,
she had to snap herself back.

What am I doing? Remember, no good can come from finding

yourself enamored by this man. Only heartbreak will be there.
Lord Tattershall merely blinked at her in response to her
question, evidently not quite understanding her.

“You told me a secret earlier this week, perhaps it is time I

told you one of mine.” She took a sip from her claret and
turned her body more toward his, clearly having enraptured
his attention. “Look at my family, my Lord. There is only
beauty amongst them, is there not?”

He did as she asked, looking between them before offering a

slow nod.

“Sooner or later, the ugly duckling realizes who she is.” Her
words made him flinch and turn back to her.

“Do you not use a mirror?” he asked.

“I try to avoid them.”

“Goodness knows why.” He shook his head. As others at the

table began to serve their food, he picked up a platter of
lemon capon and offered it to her to serve herself first.
“Believe me, Lady Emily. There is no ugly duckling in your
family.”
“You are kind. You have done enough for me already today in
making Lord Nelson apologize.” She brushed off his
compliment. “You do not need to do anymore.”

“I am merely stating fact.” His words were firm, making her

pause in serving her capon. “Take another look in a mirror
some time. I hope someday you will see what I see.”

She felt her breath hitch at the words and those same tingles
started again. He did not even have to take her hand this
time, only say such words. Her cheeks reddened with heat,
and she bent down toward the capon, trying to hide her
embarrassment. She thought of making a jest on him
perhaps needing spectacles, but the words died on her
tongue.

Does he really like how I look?

“Now, earlier this week, you did me a great favor.” Lord

Tattershall continued as he proffered a second platter to her,
this one full of rosemary potatoes.

“I did? What did I do?”

“You cheered my spirits when I was down, more so than you
knew.”

She smiled at the idea, recollecting something of their

conversation from when they danced together.

“Today, I will return the favor,” he said with decisiveness.

“What do you wish to talk about? Choose any topic you like,
and I promise to partake vigorously until you are smiling
properly once again.”

“What if I chose a topic that was dull?” she asked.

“Then we will have to think of an imaginative way to make it

interesting. Go on. Choose any topic you like.” He
encouraged her with a wave of his hand.

She chewed her lip in thought, looking across the table to

where her mother and sister were talking at length on gowns
and the latest fashions. Such topics did not interest her.

“There is a topic I could choose; many do find it dull

though.” She screwed up her nose with a little fear, hoping
he would not think her boring for mentioning it.
“Go on.”

“Do you read, my Lord?” she asked. He paused with his food
and looked up to her, bearing an instant smile.

“Now, that is not a dull topic in the slightest.”

The conversation that ensued left Emily inattentive to her

food. Her dinner and the dessert course passed with her
barely eating anything, for she was too absorbed in her
discussions with Lord Tattershall. There was scarcely a book
they did not discuss together, though they had a particular
preoccupation for talking of Shakespeare’s plays. They kept
returning to his plays repeatedly, until it drew the attention
of Emily’s family.

“What is it the two of you are discussing so avidly?”

Archibald asked, gesturing with his wine glass between the
two of them.

“Shakespeare, my Lord.” Lord Tattershall answered first.

“Oh no…” Emily winced.

“What is it?”
“Wait for it.”

“Oh, do not get her onto books, my Lord!” Charity said with
drama. “You’ll be trapped in that chair for hours talking
now.”

“I’ll take the risk,” he said, chuckling. The words made

Emily sit forward, startled by his answer. Was it possible to
meet someone who loved stories as well as she did?

As the dinner came to a close, the ladies were about to retire

from the table first when someone approached Emily and
Lord Tattershall. Emily looked up as a shadow fell over her
plate, feeling her stomach tighten when she met the eyes of
Miss Jane Drew.

“Aaron?” she turned, giving Lord Tattershall her full

attention.

She called him Aaron! Emily sank a little in her seat, reminded
of just how well the two of them knew each other. Her few
short hours in Lord Tattershall’s company paled in
comparison.
“Yes?” Lord Tattershall looked up, then the smile fell from
his face as he saw Miss Drew.

“I was wondering…” She paused and offered a sweet smile. It

was so like the smile Emily had seen in her imagining of the
two of them, that she shifted in her seat, feeling awkward.
“Would you have a few minutes to spare? I would dearly like
to talk to you in private.”

Please say no. Even as Emily sent the silent prayer, she
seemed to be not the only one waiting on his answer. On the
other side of the table, her parents were listening, as were
Arthur, Julia, and Grace, all pretending not to, though their
heads were turned in Lord Tattershall’s direction. Emily
shifted her gaze on Lord Tattershall, waiting for him to say
anything as the silence stretched out.
 CHAPTER SIX

“I think that unwise. Your betrothed is waiting for you.”

Aaron’s words came easily. He could see the surprise
well enough in Jane’s face, with her lips parting wide and her
face reddening.

Why would I go to you now, Jane?

He owed her nothing. He knew that was the truth. After she
had chosen his brother over him, she had never sought to
explain herself. She had never told him why she had once
kissed him on his parents’ estate, making promises for the
future that clearly, she intended to break. She had had
months to explain herself and had chosen not to.

Jane wandered off, back down the other end of the table as
the ladies stood to their feet. Aaron felt a pair of eyes on him
and looked up to see Lady Emily was staring at him, with an
expression he could not decipher. Was she stunned? Pleased?
Maybe even confused?
He smiled up at her, hoping to show his true feelings on the
matter. He was happy where he was, beside Lady Emily. He
did not want to go and hurt himself by sitting beside Lady
Jane. What was he supposed to do? He would merely think of
the way she used to look at him lovingly when she looked at
Hugh now with that same gaze.

“We shall join you all in a minute,” the Earl of Dowding

spoke up, addressing his comments to the ladies. Aaron felt
his eyes watch Lady Emily go, uncertain why he stared at her
for so long. When she was finally gone and the door closed
behind her, he returned his eyes forward, finding Lord
Bolton had moved up to sit beside his father and was
currently pouring out coffee for the three of them. He pushed
one of the cups toward Aaron.

“Can we ask who that lady was, my Lord? Or is it better we

ignore the matter entirely?” Lord Bolton asked in a quiet
voice.

“Arthur,” Lord Dowding held his cup out to his son

warningly.

“What? I did not ask. I asked if it was permissible to ask.” He

shrugged with a smile, like a lawyer who had figured out
some loophole.
“Forgive him.” Lord Dowding addressed his comments to
Aaron, pulling a smile from him. “He thinks he’s clever.”

“I’m not that dim,” Lord Bolton said in complaint.

“No, I love you, son, but you are perhaps not as clever as you
think.” Lord Dowding made both Aaron and Lord Bolton
laugh heartily, startled by the words. “Deep down, you know
I am not wrong. Who is the cleverest of my children?”

Aaron realized a beat later just what Lord Dowding had done.
He had artfully distracted Lord Bolton from Jane’s presence
and the conversation at hand, ensuring they talked of
something else entirely. As Lord Bolton fussed with pouring
the milk, Aaron nodded his thanks to Lord Dowding. The Earl
waved away the thanks with a small gesture of his hand,
showing it was no bother.

“The cleverest? Well…” Lord Bolton pretended to think on

his father’s question for a minute. “I wish to say, me.”

“Vain or true?” Aaron asked.

“See? He’s catching onto our ways,” Lord Dowding pointed

in Aaron’s direction, chuckling all the more.
“Not true, sadly.” Lord Bolton shook his head. “The
cleverest child depends on the question you wish to ask
them. Fashion or music, it is best to ask Grace. On any other
topic, it is probably wiser to speak to Emily.”

“Do you surpass them in any topic?” Aaron asked, humored

by the way Arthur winced.

“Probably not.” His words made them all laugh warmly

another time. Aaron shook his head in disbelief. How was it
possible to be this happy and feel so light about life when
mere seconds ago the woman he loved had come to his side,
yet was permanently out of his reach?

The world looks different now.

“Lord Tattershall, we are to hold a garden party later this

week.” Lord Bolton began, proffering a cigar to Aaron that
he politely turned down. “It will not be a large affair, family,
a few close friends.”

“I have invited your parents too.” The Earl spoke up, making
Aaron’s hands tighten around the coffee cup in his hands.

“Have you invited my brother?” Aaron wished he would say

no, even though he knew what was coming. It would have
been rude to leave Hugh out of the invitation if the whole
family were coming.

“Yes.” The Earl nodded. “Would you come too?”

Aaron paused for a minute. He had already attended two

more events than he had intended to be at that week, now he
was thinking of making plans for the next week too. He was
beginning to think it would be wise to start avoiding Hugh
and Jane again when his eyes landed on the empty chair
beside him, where Lady Emily had been sat minutes ago.

He thought of the way her curls kept escaping down from the
pins and the way she fussed with them, clearly concerned.
He found those curls endearing, wondering what it would be
like to run his fingers through those dark red tendrils.

One touch…

He attempted to snap himself out of his thoughts and looked

back round, only it was not so easy. Her blue eyes slipped
into his mind and her wit. If he could have such another
spirited conversation about books for hours on end, gazing
at Lady Emily, what harm was there in accepting the
invitation?

“I would be delighted to come.”

“Wonderful.” Lord Bolton rubbed his hands together
excitedly. “I will have to come up with some particularly
hard riddles ahead of the day.”

“You must come to the boating next Saturday.” Arthur

issued the invitation with eagerness.

“Do not forget the dinner next Friday, love.” Julia’s

reminder made Emily wince and look down into her teacup.

“Is there a day where you do not all do something?” Lord

Tattershall asked, looking around the table placed in the
garden.

“Rarely,” Emily answered before anyone else could. She

looked across the garden, seeing what was supposed to be a
small affair had grown into something a little bigger. There
were many tables set up on the terrace outside of her
father’s house, with lots of people sat around them.

On the far side of the garden, Archibald and Charity were sat
with Lord Tattershall’s mother, eager in their conversation.
On a table between them, Lord Hugh and Miss Drew were sat
together, not showing much interest in talking to anyone
else but themselves.
Emily had suspected that Lord Tattershall would take the
opportunity to talk to others at the garden party, but so far,
he had drunk two teas sat at her side, and showed no
intention of moving away.

“So? Will you come?” Julia asked excitedly.

“How could I refuse?” Lord Tattershall’s answer made them

all smile. All except Emily. She found herself looking up to
him, baffled by his answer.

Why is he so happy to always be with us?

As Arthur and Julia descended into their own conversation,

Emily turned to Lord Tattershall, lowering her voice so only
he could hear.

“I apologize. My family can be a little over the top at times,

and they like you. Can you tell?” she teased, making him
laugh.

“I had a few hints.”

“I think even if I was blind, I would be able to see it.” She
made an appearance of closing her eyes tightly and feeling
around for her teacup, making him laugh even more.

“Do not apologize for them. You might be surprised by it, but
I am quite taken with your family.” He leaned back in his
chair, gesturing to the family with his teacup.

“You are?” she asked, turning in her seat to face him. He

angled her body toward her, placing a hand on the back of
her chair as if to speak to her more privately. Emily leaned
toward him, loving how close his hand had come to her.

Stop thinking such things you fool!

For the last two days, she had been avidly reading her latest
book whenever she could, and now she found she could not
picture the hero in anyway other than him being exactly like
Lord Tattershall. The problem was whenever she tried to
picture herself in the heroine’s role, it did not last long. She
felt out of place within that book.

“As you and I are fond of sharing secrets, Lady Emily, let me
tell you another.” He beckoned her toward him with a crook
of his hand. Emily did as he asked, leaning even more toward
him. She was so close that she could mark the individual
curls of his dark hair at his temple. She had to dart her gaze
down to his eyes, trying to stop herself from admiring him.
“They are everything I wish my family could be.”

“Really?” she asked, her focus now abruptly on his

conversation. “I know it is not what you can have with your
brother, but not even your parents?”

“My mother is just about the sweetest soul you will ever
meet. Though I would say your mother would give her a run
for her money.” He gestured across the garden to where
Charity and the Duchess of Parson were talking, their heads
bent together like old friends. “My father is somewhat
distant though. At the moment, the animosity between my
brother and I, prevents any chance of my mother smiling.
That is one of the things that hurts the most. Not seeing her
smile.”

“Then you should bring her here more.”

“What do you mean?” Lord Tattershall asked.

“Take another look.” Emily pointed back to his mother,

urging him to turn round and see she was smiling in
Charity’s company.

“I am beginning to think your family is like a panacea for

mine. The company of all of you seems to be fixing not only
my woes, but my mother’s too.” He shook his head in
bemusement.

“We are fixing your woes?” Emily laughed at the idea. “That
is not possible, surely?”

“You would be surprised how much my outlook has changed

on meeting you. I mean…meeting you all.”

Emily heard the slip, but she thought nothing of it. Lord
Tattershall spoke so quickly to correct himself that it was
clear he truly did mean the whole family.

“I was wondering if I could ask you something, Lady Emily.”

He shifted in his seat, suddenly appearing awkward.

“Have you sat on a pinecone?”

“Pardon?” he asked, looking toward her.

“It is the only reason I can think of as to why you would

suddenly be so uncomfortable in your chair.” Her jest
brought a smile from him as he made an appearance of
trying to sit perfectly still.
“That better?”

“Much. Go on, what were you going to say.”

“A few months ago, I purchased some tickets for the

theatre.” He still spoke awkwardly. It was the only time he
had been nervous in conversation with her, making her
brows furrow together. “It is a performance of Midsummer
Night’s Dream. I purchased the tickets for myself and
another.”

“Should I avoid asking who?” Emily asked mischievously,

earning a fake glare from Lord Tattershall.

“You should.” Emily tried her best not to flick her eyes in
Miss Drew’s direction, but she failed.

“Evidently, it is not something the two of us can attend

together now, and I thought maybe I should not go at all, but
the tickets are there to be used, and after what you said the
other day on Shakespeare, I am sure you would enjoy it.”

“My Lord, you are blithering.”

“I am a bit, aren’t I?” He scratched the back of his neck
nervously. “Would you like to come with me? I would invite a
chaperone of course, and I assure you, it would be nothing
but a friend helping another friend to use up a ticket. I spent
money on the event, we might as well use them.”

Emily was saddened a little, feeling her fingers busy

themselves with the teacup. Was it truly so horrible to have
hoped he would have asked her to go as something other
than a friend?

“I would love to go.” She found the words falling from her
lips anyway. “I love that play.”

“Wonderful.” Lord Tattershall seemed instantly at ease

again. “You have taken a weight of worry off my mind.”

I wish I could say the same. Yet her mind was restless now.
Knowing she was to attend the theatre would only give her
family hope of an attachment between the two of them,
where there was clearly no hope to be had.

The tea passed quickly and when it became time for Lord
Tattershall to say goodbye, he went round the whole family,
leaving Emily until last.

“I will send word about the theatre,” he said quietly.

“Let me tell my parents.” She hurried to add. “I would hate
for my mother to get excited without reason.”

“I would pretend to be stunned, but I am not. My mother will

probably be just as excited when I tell her.” He laughed and
bowed to her. “Until next time, Lady Emily.”

“Goodbye.” She curtsied, finding herself unable to address

him as Lord Tattershall as he wandered off down the garden
path to leave. She felt she knew him so well by now that
addressing him as such was too formal. She wished there
was something else she could call him altogether.

As Lord Tattershall reached halfway down the path, he

looked back, offering her a wave. She returned it eagerly, just
as Julia came to her side. Emily was not sure how long she
waved. It was long enough that Julia grabbed her arm and
encouraged her to lower it again.

“Too long?” Emily asked.

“A little,” Julia said in a whisper. “I must say, for two people

who profess not to be courting and have no interest in one
another, you and Lord Tattershall seem incapable of talking
to anyone but each other.”
“Hardly!” Emily insisted. “That is simply in your mind. It is
something you wish to see.”

“You think so?” Julia asked, just as Arthur walked past them.
“Arthur, love?”

“Yes?” He turned back, taking Julia’s hand as he came to her

side.

“Emily and I are having a little discussion I would like your

thoughts on.”

“Even if you get Arthur to agree with you, it will not make
the matter anymore real,” Emily said tiredly, shaking her
head. “I have told you before, his heart belongs to another.”

“I am going to take a reliable guess here and say we are

talking of Lord Tattershall.” Arthur looked mightily pleased
with himself at his guess.

“I think they are lying to us.” Julia declared in a fake

whisper, making Emily roll her eyes. “They both seem to
enjoy each other’s company more than anyone else here. Yet
Emily says there is nothing between them. She says she is
not interested!”
Emily knew she had said nothing of the latter. She felt
something tighten in her chest as she looked at the path
once more down which Lord Tattershall had disappeared.
She was interested, immensely so. Yet what did that matter?

Emily looked back when she felt a gaze upon her, seeing
Arthur was watching her closely. He did not say anything at
all, but she felt he read her thoughts.

“What do you think, Arthur? Are they keeping an attachment

secret from us?” Julia asked.

“Some secret it would be. We have all noticed how close they
are. No, sadly.” He shook his head. “I am in agreement with
Emily, though I wish I was not. Lord Tattershall is a good
man. If he wished to court Emily, he would say as much.
They are simply good friends.”

“Exactly.” Emily felt the truth of the words sadden her

further.

It did not seem to matter to her own foolish heart what she
knew to be the truth, it thudded harder when Lord
Tattershall was near anyway.

“Come on, there are more guests we need to say goodbye

to.” Arthur hurried Julia away. After she had gone a distance,
Arthur hurried back to Emily’s side, making her jump. “Tell
me you are not in danger of being in love with him.”

“Arthur!” Emily tried to swat him away. “How can you say
such a thing? I barely know the man.”

“True. Yet after the second time I met Julia, I was practically
reduced to a bumbling fool.” At his words, Emily raised her
eyebrows, showing him that the jest she could make was all
too easy. “Yes, I know, you want to say something along the
lines of I always had the propensity to be one.”

“It was too easy a jest to make.”

“Stop changing the subject.” Arthur held up a finger,

adopting an unusually serious countenance.

“What?”

“I want a genuine answer this time, Emily. Do you care for

Lord Tattershall?”

Even as the question was asked, she felt herself blush and
her gaze lower.
“That is tricky to say after so few meetings. The only truth I
can tell is this. I like him.” She breathed deeply, building the
courage before she looked at him again, finding his eyebrows
risen across his forehead, clearly wanting more. “Very well, I
like him a lot. There, is that enough?”

“Then guard your heart, sister. It may not be an affection he

can ever return.”

“I know. You do not need to give me the warning.” She

turned away, desperate not to hear anymore. She had
observed it often enough in the way Lord Tattershall
watched Miss Drew. She did not need Arthur hammering
home the thought, it hurt too much.

She crossed back to her table where the last dregs of tea were
still in the cup and lifted it to her lips. As she went to lower it
back down to the saucer, she found it was not empty.
Someone had placed a scrap of parchment beneath the cup.

Snatching it up, she unfurled it quickly to read the neat

scrawl.

‘Stay away from Lord Tattershall.’

 CHAPTER SEVEN

“W ho sent this?” Emily muttered to herself as she

repeatedly read the note. It did not seem to matter
how any times she read it or at what time of day, she could
make no more sense of it than she could when she had first
unfurled the paper. Now, she sat in the library, hidden
between two bookshelves with her book in her hands and the
note resting in the pages, staring at it, in hope that
something else would leap out at her.

“Emily? Emily, are you in here?” The familiar voice of Julia

made Emily stuff the note between the pages of her book and
close it quickly, hiding it on a shelf nearby. “There you are.
We’ll be late, you know.”

Emily turned round, watching as the beautiful smile of Julia

approached, but something in that smile faltered as she
looked at Emily.

“Has something happened?”

“No, I am well,” Emily said hurriedly, trying to walk around
her friend, but Julia clearly was not going to be outdone. She
reached for Emily’s hand, taking it easily in hers and pulling
her back.

“That was a lie.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Emily said quickly.

“You think I cannot tell when you are lying by now?”

“Hmm… it seems my acting skills are not as great as I

thought. Oh well, I will never be some great actor on stage!”
Emily said with drama, hoping to distract her sister-in-law
by jesting. “I suppose they would not hire me to ever play
Juliet anyway. Far too plump.”

“Emily!” Julia said, pulling on her hand again and stopping

her from escaping. “You are trying to distract me now.”
Emily chewed her lip, finding all temptation to joke leave her
as she glanced back at the book and the note she had hidden
within the pages.

Why would someone demand I leave Lord Tattershall alone?

“Will you not tell me what is worrying you so?” Julia asked
kindly, her tone soft.

“It does not matter.” Emily shook her head. “It is all in my
own head. I am merely worrying about something that is
barely real. It is all my own thoughts.” That was what she
was trying to tell herself.

The more time she spent with Lord Tattershall, she could not
deny how much she liked him, nor the thrill that passed
through her whenever he came near.

I like him. Very much indeed! Yet he loves another.

Whoever had sent that note had to be a fool. If they thought

they could see anything more than friendship in Lord
Tattershall’s attentions to her, then clearly, they were
wrong.

“Cryptic indeed,” Julia said, wrinkling her nose in thought.

“That is not one of our riddles that I can understand,
unfortunately. Let me ask this instead. Is there anything
terribly wrong right now? Do you have your health, a roof
over your head, and a wonderful day watching the sailing
ahead of you, in the company of not only your family that
love you, but Lord Tattershall?”
“Lord Tattershall?” Emily repeated, flinching at the words.
“Why would you mention him?”

“Emily, have you not noticed he has barely left your side
since I introduced the two of you?” Julia asked, looping
Emily’s arm through her own and escorting her from the
room.

“He is a friend. That is all.”

“It is nothing more?”

“How can it be?” Emily asked hurriedly. “His heart belongs

elsewhere.”

“Did he tell you as much?” Julia pulled them to a stop again,

eying Emily so closely that she fidgeted under her stare.

“Yes. The first night I met him.”

“Ah, I see.” Julia appeared disappointed, with her eyes

wandering away in restless thought. “Yet he is so attentive
to you.”
“Perhaps we have him under some sort of spell?” Emily said,
adopting a jesting tone. “Poor man cannot escape our
family.”

“No teasing now, Emily. I am trying to be serious. Lord

Tattershall is clearly your good friend, but are you certain,
are you absolutely positive it is nothing more than that?”
Julia’s question took the wind out of Emily, leaving her still
for a minute. She chewed the inside of her mouth and looked
down at the floor, not knowing what to say. “When I first fell
in love with your brother, do you want to know how I first
realized it?”

“How?” Emily asked in a small voice.

“I realized I could barely go a day without seeing him. That

his company was the one I desired above everyone else’s!
Now, tell me the truth, dear sister. Whose company do you
desire more than any other’s?”

The answer hung on the edge of Emily’s tongue for a

moment, so scared she was to utter it. She glanced back at
the note hidden within the book one last time before she
returned her focus to Julia.

“Lord Tattershall’s,” she whispered.

“There, I think we have our answer,” Julia said with glee,
but Emily would not let her run away with it.

“Whatever I feel is irrelevant, Julia. His heart lies elsewhere

and always has. I am simply a fool who has allowed myself to
risk a broken heart, am I not?”

“You think so?” Julia asked with raised eyebrows. “Well, pay
attention today at the sailing. Tell me if you see Lord
Tattershall paying attention to any young lady other than
yourself.”

Where is she?

Aaron was wandering up and down the riverbank of Henley,

looking back and forth in search of the Earl of Dowding’s
family and one person in particular. Lady Emily.

The whole riverbank was alive with people who had come to
see the boats racing. With tea tents set up on one side of the
river and games of shuttlecock and skittles set up on the
other, it was a rowdy day, with some people even choosing
the glasses of wine over tea, to make the day a little merrier.
Over their heads, the sun shone brightly, casting the white
sails of the boats an even brighter white, making the
onlookers shield their gazes.

Aaron walked between the groups of guests, striding out

across the grass in search of Lady Emily. Eventually, he did
find someone in the crowd, yet it was not who he had
expected to see.

“Why are they here?” he muttered to himself, coming to

such a harsh stop on the grass that he nearly tripped over.
On the far side, under the cover of the tea tent, he could see
Hugh and Jane together. Hugh was bent toward Jane, talking
attentively, yet Jane’s lips were flattened together. Aaron had
seen that expression enough over the years. He was
reminded of when Jane was a little girl, bored of watching he
and Hugh play together in the garden. She is bored. Clearly
sailing is not her passion.

Jane abruptly looked up, turning away from Hugh. Her eyes
danced across the guests’ heads before they found Aaron. At
once she smiled and lifted a hand to wave at him. Aaron did
not feel the same pangs he used to feel when she smiled.
Surprisingly, he did not even feel anger. He felt indifferent.

He did not bother returning the wave and looked away,

continuing his search for Lady Emily and her family instead.
“You are looking back and forth that many times, it is a
wonder you haven’t hurt all the muscles in your neck by
now.” The familiar voice of Lord Bolton made Aaron look
round to see Lady Emily’s brother approach. They bowed in
greeting to one another, sharing a smile.

“At last, I was beginning to think your whole family was

lost,” Aaron said as Lord Bolton reached his side.

“Not lost, only preoccupied.” Lord Bolton pointed further

down the riverbank, gesturing toward where his family were
gathered. Lord and Lady Dowding were arranging drinks and
passing them to the young ladies, meanwhile Lady Grace was
being plied with attention from three different gentlemen.
Each one talking to her avidly, trying to gain her focus. To
her side, Lady Bolton had her arm firmly through Lady
Emily’s.

“Something is wrong,” Aaron muttered, feeling his spine

going rigid as he watched Lady Emily. Her bold features were
not spread in her usual jesting smile. Her brow was furrowed
strongly, and her eyes were squinting down at the teacup in
her hand. “Has something happened to Lady Emily?”

“Goodness knows,” Lord Bolton said with a sigh. “I cannot

extract it from her, neither can Julia. Usually, Julia can get
anything out of her. Even her most hidden secrets.”
“Secrets?” Aaron watched Lady Emily than turning his eyes
back to Lord Bolton. He found himself longing to know what
secrets laid in Lady Emily’s heart, to be privy to that
information when no one else was.

“So, care to tell me who you were looking for with such
keenness just now?” Lord Bolton asked, with clear mischief
in his tone.

“All of you,” Aaron answered with a smile, looking back to

Lord Bolton, only to find the man’s smirk had grown all the
more.

“Not my sister in particular then,” he said softly. Aaron did

not answer right away. Apparently that silence was all that
was needed to confirm Lord Bolton’s suspicions. “Ha! You
looked like a hunter trying to find a fox. All you needed were
the hounds at your side to complete the look.”

“God’s wounds, I hope I did not look that bad.” Aaron shook
his head, adjusting the top hat on his head to try and hide
something of his expression.

“Only I noticed, have no fear.” Lord Bolton clapped Aaron on

the shoulder, turning him enough to look back at the
Dowdings, specifically at Lady Emily. “Forgive me, Lord
Tattershall, but I am about to do my brotherly duty. Must be
done, you know. So, tell me. What is this between you and
my sister?”

“What do you mean, what is it?” Aaron asked, trying to

ignore the way his gut tightened with nerves. “We are
friends. Good friends.”

“That is all?” Lord Bolton asked, looking at him with a

raised eyebrow. “Nothing more?”

“I…” Aaron cleared his throat, hoping those extra few

seconds would buy him time to think.

“Would you like a little longer to think of an answer?” Lord

Bolton asked with mischief. “Shall I get us some drinks in
hope you will have an answer by the time I return?”

“Enough teasing,” Aaron said, shaking his head in laughter.

“The truth is, Lady Emily and I are friends. Good friends
indeed. I have never met someone I have been such instant
friends with.” He was not averse to letting the truth escape
him, feeling each word he uttered came with passion and
vigor. “She is so easy to speak to and be around. She has a
habit of making me smile when it is the last thing I want to
do, and she has just about the finest humor I have ever met.
Who could not be her friend?”
“A powerful friendship indeed.” Lord Bolton nodded and
whistled, showing his amazement. “Yet it is just that? Just
friendship?”

“Just friendship,” Aaron said the words tightly. He found his

gaze flicking over Lord Bolton’s shoulder, looking toward
where Jane was standing in the tent with Hugh.

Wasn’t she the one who would always have his heart? Yet
there was no pain staring at her now, no longing either. What
has happened?

Jane and Hugh wandered off, toward the riverbank, where

they met Aaron’s mother, Joyce, who was hovering by the
edge of the river, staring out at the boats close to the
Dowdings.

“Well, now that is done, let me find you a drink, my friend,”

Lord Bolton said, steering Aaron toward the tent.

“What? No more?” Aaron asked in a humored voice. “I am

used to gentlemen thrusting their daughters and sisters
under my nose repeatedly.”

“I suppose as a future Duke you see that often.”

“You would be surprised how often.”

“Have no fear, which is not what I am doing.” Lord Bolton

shook his head as they stopped by the tea tent. “I am merely
doing my brotherly duty in watching out for my sister. Now
that conversation is passed, we can talk of something else.
Though, if I may, will you permit me to say one more thing
on this subject before we move on?”

“Of course,” Aaron nodded, watching as Lord Bolton stepped

away from their conversation momentarily to secure them
drinks. When he returned, passing a teacup into Aaron’s
hands, he had a wistful smile on his face.

“My wife, Julia, is my best friend.” Lord Bolton’s words

made Aaron choke on his tea. He coughed a few times,
feeling Lord Bolton clap him on the back to try and clear his
airways. “I have startled you. Good lord! You would have
thought I had said something terribly ill indeed.”

“No, no, I just simply wasn’t expecting you to say that,”

Aaron struggled to explain as he breathed clearly again. Is it
possible? To marry your best friend? Aaron found his eyes
lifting from his teacup and looking over the guests’ heads.

As the sailing was beginning, the crowds had gathered at the

edge of the riverbank. It was almost impossible to discern
one group from another. In fact, it was so busy that Aaron
could not even see Lady Emily anymore, she was lost
somewhere in the mesh of others in the crowd.

“Here, let me get you another cup,” Lord Bolton said with
laughter. “You coughed most of that one back out.” As Lord
Bolton turned away to fetch Aaron a fresh cup, Aaron at last
found Lady Emily through the crowd.

He could not tell who she was with or standing besides, he

could only judge her face in profile, watching those blue eyes
that were so fixed on the boats ahead of her and the boldness
of her features. She was not smiling today. She was sad,
worrying about something, chewing her lip to such an extent
that Aaron wanted nothing more than to push through the
crowd and be at her side, just to be the one to make her smile
again.

“When did this happen?” Aaron muttered aloud, realizing

something. Somehow, somewhere along the line, Lady
Emily’s happiness mattered to him more than anyone else’s.

Suddenly, Lady Emily’s face moved, it was into one of pain.

Then a cry went up from beside her and she was jolted
forward.

“Watch out!”
“Who did that?”

“Emily!” That was Lady Bolton’s voice, crying after her.

Lady Emily was thrust out into the air and fell in the river,
with such a splash that it cascaded back onto the people
watching at the riverbank. She disappeared under the water
surface, vanishing completely from view.

Lady Emily!
 CHAPTER EIGHT

E mily was struggling to swim. She could barely

understand what had happened. One second, she had
been standing on the very edge of the riverbank, with her
toes on the precipice of where the grass met the water, the
next she had felt a harsh push in her back, and she was
forced into the water, dropping into an abruptly deep
section, and plunging into the depths.

She kicked out in the water, swimming to the surface,

finding as her head broke the surface that her reticule was
gone, and her body was soddened with water. Her auburn
hair appeared darker now, stuck to her neck in tendrils with
sections falling out of the updo. She had to cough a few times
to free her lungs of water, looking up in time to see her
family all staring down at her with fear, thrusting hands in
her direction to help her out.

The whole crowd were abuzz, calling out in wonder at what

had happened and shouting for her to be pulled back out.
“Get her out of there!”

“Did she slip?”

“Who is it?”

“Emily!” That was her father’s voice. She looked up to see

Archibald pushing to the front of the rest, reaching out
toward her. She tried reaching up to take his hand, but she
could not make her gloved fingers meet his. With the sailing
boats in the water bobbing past, they created waves,
dragging her further back into the river.

It was an impossible task. Each time she tried to swim

forward, the water pulled on her gown, like it had fingers,
tugging at the hem of her dress. Her whole body felt heavier
than usual, and she was beginning to be swept downward,
with each breath she took, she began to swallow more and
more water.

“Emily!”

“Someone has to do something!” That was Grace’s voice.

Emily could just about see Grace trying to push past curious
onlookers, before another face appeared. It was Lord
Tattershall’s, and he made no hesitation in thrusting
gentlemen out of the way.
He threw off his jacket and his top hat, tossing them to Julia
to hold onto before he strode straight out into the water.

“What are you doing?” Emily cried, then choked on water

again, stopping her from asking him anymore.

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said with
a smile as he reached her in the water.

I was pushed. I am sure of it!

Yet she could not utter the words now. She was too busy
thinking of the way Lord Tattershall reached out to her,
taking her hands in his and pulling her toward him.

“Can you put your feet on the ground now?” he asked.

“No!” she spluttered the words. Much shorter than him,

even at this depth, she could not touch the riverbed.

“Then forgive me, Lady Emily, but I am about to be very

improper indeed.”
“What do you mean – oh my goodness!” she said in surprise
as one of his arms reached around her back and the other
slipped under the water, hooking under her knees. Emily was
lifted easily into his grasp as he turned and walked her back
out of the river.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he pleaded, never once

taking his gaze off her. Emily did not have the words to
respond. Her heartbeat was going too fast from how closely
he was holding her. She was thinking of the pressure of
those fingers against her, not only startled he could lift her
so easily, but that he had willingly strode into the water to
do so.

“Emily! Dearest.” That was her mother’s voice, urging her to

look away as Lord Tattershall walked her back onto dry land,
with the water running off the two of them in rivulets.
“What happened?”

“She’s soaked to the bone,” Archibald said, reaching their

side and ushering the curious gazers of the crowd away. “We
need to get her out of here. Into some dry clothes at once.”

“My carriage is nearby,” Lord Tattershall spoke first, and

decisively. “Good lord, some of the people here have no
propriety in them,” he muttered, nodding his head at the
others in the crowd. “Why did they not try to help?”
“Not everyone can swim,” Emily said quietly, trying to
explain their actions away.

“That is no excuse to have left you in the water, Lady

Emily.” He spoke firmly, turning his gaze on her. Emily felt
she could have been in one of her novels, pulled out of the
water by her hero.

He is not my hero. He is not mine to keep.

Yet in that moment, Lord Tattershall felt everything to her.

Not only had he pulled her out of the water the very moment
she feared she would drown, with the water pulling her gown
further into its depths, but he did not seem to be in a hurry
to let her go. He was holding on tightly to her, in a way she
did not doubt would start whispers.

“Lord Tattershall,” Arthur was suddenly at their side. “You

might want to put my sister down now if you do not wish to
grace the scandal sheets tomorrow.”

“She’s shivering.” Lord Tattershall’s words were plain.

“How can I put her down now?” Emily looked down to see he
was right. In the coldness of the water, her body had begun
to shake. Though she wondered if it was as much out of fear
of those depths.
“You have no choice,” Arthur said warningly, gesturing
around with his head. Lord Tattershall must have seen what
Emily saw. Beyond her family’s concerned faces that were all
closest to her, others were staring at them, then whispering
behind raised hands.

Lord Tattershall cursed under his breath and put Emily

down. At once, she felt hands reach out toward her. Grace
was there, and Charity, all trying to hold onto her and check
she was well.

“Are you hurt?”

“Any injuries, dearest?”

“Did you slip?”

“I am fine,” Emily said hurriedly, trying to answer them as

best as she could. Something warm and dry dropped on her
shoulders. Looking up, she found Lord Tattershall had taken
his jacket off and Julia had placed it on her shoulders.

“We need to keep you warm,” he whispered, with his voice

becoming such a deep baritone that Emily could have
stepped back and sank into his arms again.
Do not be a fool!

“Let us get her out of here,” Lord Tattershall took control of

the situation and led the path through the crowd, with
Arthur at his side. Together, the two of them demanded
people stepped away, abandoning their curiosity to allow her
through. Emily was escorted by her father, feeling the
shaking never stopped. The entire walk to the carriage, she
noticed Lord Tattershall kept looking back to her, with those
dark blue eyes never far from hers for long.

“I’ve got you,” Aaron whispered as he held tightly to Lady

Emily’s arm, towing her into the Dowding’s house. Around
them, there was a lot of fussing and hurried activity.

The Earl of Dowding was ordering a man to fetch a physician

at once. It didn’t matter how many times Lady Emily said
she was fine. Her father was determined to be sure. Lady
Dowding was insisting a fire be lit in the warmest room in
the house, the library. Meanwhile Lady Bolton and Lady
Grace were sent for fresh clothes and blankets. Lord Bolton
disappeared off to the kitchens, looking for some warm food.

Aaron tuned all of it out. All that mattered to him was Lady
Emily on his arm. He held her hand that rested on his bicep
with his other hand, clutching tightly to her, as he escorted
her toward the family library. Beneath the shouts and
panicked fuss of the others, he whispered to her, so only she
could hear him.

“You promise me you are well?” he asked softly.

“I am fine,” she said, revealing the first smile that morning.

The sight of it delighted him, loving the way it transformed
her features. “All this fuss because of a little water, it seems
quite silly, doesn’t it?” she said with a humored tone as they
stepped into the library. Behind them, one of the maids
hurried forward, acting as both a chaperone and a maid to
set up the fire. “Good lord, if I truly were injured, think of
the drama that would ensue?”

“You do not like all this fuss over you?” Aaron asked as he
led her to the armchair nearest to the fire. He helped her to
sit down before he took a footstool and dragged it in front of
her, sitting there so he could be close to her. He did not miss
the widening of her eyes as he came so close, but he didn’t
care. At this moment, all that mattered was the fact she was
well and safe.

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “Does it not remind you of
the theatre? One character falls over and the rest hurry to
right them up, as if their injury is the most tragic thing in
the world.”
Aaron laughed. It was startling to him, to laugh at a moment
like this, when he had been so worried for her. Yet once
again, Lady Emily had this effect, managing to help him see
the lighter side of life, even when all seemed bleak. He
softened his laughter and leaned toward her, glancing once
at the doorway to check none of the family would return just
yet.

“You worried me, Lady Emily. If you were so eager for a

swim, I am sure we could have found you a better way to do
it.”

“Ha! Yes, strangely enough I was not particularly eager to

swim today,” she said wryly, grimacing. Yet her humor
vanished as she too glanced to the door and then to the maid
nearby, checking she wasn’t paying attention.

“You look as if you want to tell me something,” Aaron

whispered, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned
toward her.

“I do.” She looked down at her hands that were fidgeting in

her lap, then she began to remove her sodden gloves, making
it easier for her fingers to dry. “I do not think I can tell
anyone else this, but… I think I was pushed into the water.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aaron blinked a few times, certain he

had heard her wrong.
“I was pushed.” She looked up, meeting his gaze at last.

“God’s wounds!” He sat even further forward in the stool, in

danger of falling off it in the effort to be nearer to her. “Who
pushed you?”

“I do not know.” She shook her head. “I cannot even be

certain of it. I remember this harsh thrust in my back and
then suddenly, I was in the water.”

Aaron covered his mouth for a minute, thinking hard. Could it

have been a mistake? Someone accidently pushing her in order to
reach the edge of the river to see the boats, perhaps?

“Wait, why only tell me?” he asked. She looked down at her
hands again, not quite meeting his gaze. “Lady Emily…” He
could not resist. Glad none of the family were there to
witness it, he took her hand, placing her fingers safely in his
palm. “Why only tell me?”

“Because I sound mad, do I not?” she asked. “I cannot be

certain I was pushed, though I think I was. I suppose you are
the one I trust to tell. The one I hope will not judge me if I
am losing my marbles.”
She smiled a little with these words, showing that she was
trying to recover her old humor.

“You can always trust me, Lady Emily.” He spoke so softly

he earned her gaze again and they shared a smile. The water
had seeped in through Aaron’s clothes now, making him cold
too with the occasional tremor, but sat here beside the fire
that was slowly stirring to life, and with Lady Emily’s hand
in his own, he could not imagine being anywhere else. “I
suppose I will have to leave soon, to change, but do you
know something?”

“What?”

“I do not particularly like the idea of leaving your side.” It

was a whispered confession; one he could only utter with his
eyes on their clasped hands. Why did I tell her that? It is true,
but why tell her!?

“I do not want you to go either.” She spoke quietly, with her

hand curling in his in such a way that Aaron felt something
blooming in his chest.

Happiness.

“Right, how are we doing in here?” The Earl of Dowding’s

voice made Aaron jump away. He released Lady Emily’s hand
and stood to his feet, putting some distance between them.

The Earl hurried forward, not having appeared to have seen

just how close they had been sitting. Behind him, Lady Grace
and Lady Bolton hurried forward, carrying blankets that they
passed to Aaron and Lady Emily.

“We are fine, Papa,” Lady Emily said softly, though she kept
glancing back to Aaron. It was as if a barrier had gone down
between them with their last words, one Aaron did not want
to put back up again. Was it truly so bad to have this kind of
friendship? One he would describe as addictive, and all
encompassing.

I do not want to leave you, Lady Emily.

“The doctor is on the way.” Lord Dowding stepped toward

his daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you
say you are fine, but I still wish to be sure. Well, I hope you
are not this eager to be in the water when we reach the
seaside.”

“The seaside?” Aaron repeated in shock, going still with the

blanket he had threaded around his shoulders.

“Yes.” Lord Dowding looked up to him. “We are to spend a

few days away together, just the family. Brighton, my Lord.
We shall be gone for the weekend.”

“The whole weekend?” Aaron tried to keep the

disappointment out of his voice. Clearly, Lord Dowding heard
it though, for he was looking at Aaron with a humored smirk.

“Well, I say just the family are going, but plans can change
of course.” Lord Dowding looked down at his daughter, as
did Aaron, intrigued to see the way Lady Emily was looking
back up at him, with those eyes unblinking. “What are your
plans for this weekend, my Lord?” Lord Dowding asked
Aaron. “You are more than welcome to join us in Brighton.
What do you say?”
 CHAPTER NINE

“B righton,” Emily said with a sigh as she gazed upon

the seafront.

Behind her, Arthur and Archibald were arranging for a

footman to take their bags into the lodgings as they all
climbed out of the carriage, but Emily could not be
distracted. She was too busy gazing out across the pebbled
beachfront, toward the deep blue ocean that was crashing
with hissing waves on the shore. The pristine blue sky was
mottled with the occasional white cloud, but it did not seem
to deter those that had come to enjoy the waters, for the
pebbled beach was full of people, particularly of ladies sat in
chairs in fine dresses, wafting fans in front of their faces.

“What an odd place this is.” The warm voice of Lord

Tattershall appeared at Emily’s side. She turned to see him
approach her as he took off his top hat and tucked it under
his arm.
“Let me guess, you cannot quite decide if it is a place of
beauty or odd in design?”

“You have rumbled my thoughts,” Lord Tattershall leaned

toward her, whispering in her ear. It was so close that a
shiver of delight passed up a spine, pulling a giggle from her.

What is happening between the two of us?

“Come on, everyone. Our rooms are all set up!” Archibald
beckoned them all forward. As they hurried inside, Emily
followed beside Lord Tattershall, frequently looking toward
him.

Since he had pulled her out of the water at Henley, things

had changed between them. It was as if neither one was
afraid of saying something to the other now. They frequently
took hold of each other’s hand or arm too, with that
physicality never far away. Even now, Lord Tattershall took
her hand, as if it were second nature to him, escorting her up
the steps and into the lodging house that was framed with
pearl-white marble pillars.

“Let me show you to your rooms, my Lord.” An elderly lady

bustled forward and curtsied to them. “My name is Mrs.
Hall, and I will be caring for you whilst you are staying here.
That reminds me, we had some post arrive for you all early
this morning, in advance of your arrival.”
“Letters?” Charity said in surprise. “Who even knew we were
coming here?”

“Forgive me,” Archibald said with a wince as he took the

letters. “I had to put a forwarding address for any business.
Ah, Lord Tattershall, there is one for you here. Emily, there
is one for you too.”

Emily took the letter with surprise, peering down at the

handwriting with wonder. She could not remember telling
any of her other friends which lodging house they were
going to stay at. The one friend she cared about knowing was
stood beside her.

“You look startled,” Lord Tattershall whispered to her.

“I am.” Yet she did not have time to say anymore. They were
all shown upstairs where one by one they were shown to
their rooms. Lord Tattershall’s room was one of the first,
urging him to take his hand out of Emily’s quickly, and
leaving her longing for that touch again.

Emily was one of the last to be shown to her room and once
she was inside with her lady’s maid hurrying to her task of
unpacking her clothes, Emily retreated to a window seat. She
spent a minute or so looking out at the seaside and the
people gathered there, smiling with joy, before she turned
her attention back to the letter in her hand.

She broke a blank red wax seal, bearing no hint to its sender,
before unfurling the paper and lifting it into the sunlight
that streamed through the window, to read it carefully.

‘Lady Emily,

I warned you to stay away from Lord Tattershall. Consider it a

warning, from a silent friend of yours. Lord Tattershall’s heart
rests elsewhere and your association with him can only end in
heartbreak for you. Remember, he is destined to be a Duke one
day. A handsome man such as he will have to marry one of the
finest debutantes in the ton to be the next duchess. The plain
youngest daughter of an earl, with a little dowry and not much
charm to her, cannot capture his heart. He will choose wealth as
well as beauty, someone who strikes a crowd when they walk into
the room, not someone who disappears into the shadows.

I mean this in the kindest way possible. Stay away from Lord
Tattershall. There is nothing but pain for you there.

Yours etcetera,

A friend.’
Emily felt her fingers begin to tremble around the letter. She
did not know whether anger or sadness swelled within her
more. Either way, the letter before her was crushing. She
read scraps of it again, with her eyes lingering on the most
painful parts.

‘…plain youngest daughter of an earl…’

‘…he will choose wealth as well as beauty…not someone who

disappears into the shadows…’

“Emily? Are you in here?” There was a soft tap on the door
that was ajar.

Emily hurried to hide the letter. She thrust it behind a

cushion in the window seat and plastered a fake smile on her
cheeks as she turned to see Julia and Grace walk in.

“We are going for a walk,” Grace said excitedly. “Arthur and
Lord Tattershall are to come too. Would you like to
accompany us?”

“Y-yes, of course.” Emily stood to her feet, stammering with

the words. Her mind was reeling too much in shock from
what she had read. Who was the letter writer? How did they
know to write to her here? How could they label themselves a
friend in that letter when they said such hurtful things?
“Excellent! Let us be quick though,” Grace said, beckoning
Emily to follow as she stepped out of the door. “Mama and
Papa will want us back for dinner.” As Grace disappeared,
Emily felt Julia’s keen gaze turn toward her.

“What has happened?” Julia asked as she looped her arm

through Emily’s own.

“I am not sure I could explain it if I tried.” Emily shook her

head. How could she speak of what she had read to anyone?

Emily could not stop looking at the reflection. She was

standing on the promenade now that the tide had come in,
staring down at the waves that bobbed the water softly back
and forth. A wavy reflection of her face and figure stared
back at her. Occasionally, the wave made her look even
bigger than she was. The mere sight of it made her clutch her
reticule in front of her, as if she could mask some of the
reflection.

She was so busy staring at it, that she could just about hear
Arthur, Julia and Grace talking some distance in front of her.
They were all walking down the promenade, laughing about
something together. Emily was so attentive to marking
everything that was wrong in her face, all the lines she
wished were different, that she jumped when a figure
appeared beside her.

Lord Tattershall’s reflection stepped beside her own. He was

wearing a long frock coat today with a dress cane in his
grasp and a top hat on his head, with the long coat that
finished around his knees buffeting in the wind. In that
reflection, Emily thought he could have been the captain on
the deck of the ship in the book she was reading. The hero
destined to capture the heart of the heroine.

Then her eyes flicked back to her own reflection. I am not that
woman.

“You are staring at the ocean so avidly, I wonder what you

are really staring at,” he said softly, his voice muffled due to
the wind and the waves. “Are there particularly interesting
fish to capture your attention?”

“I am not staring at anything so interesting,” she said with a

sigh, thinking on what the letter had said about her. “I am
staring at myself.”

“Then I’d say you are looking at something very interesting

indeed.”
“Do not tease me, my lord, not now,” Emily said with a sad
smile, finding any temptation she had to jest, and laugh was
completely gone.

“You are worrying me, Lady Emily. You are always in the
mood to laugh about something.” He stepped closer toward
her, nudging her arm with his and staring down at the
reflections too. “Tell me, what do you see when you look at
that reflection?”

“I see…” Emily paused, thinking on the letter. “Plainness. I

see someone who has unfortunately not inherited their
family’s beauty.” She whispered the words, knowing she was
revealing some of her inner most thoughts to Lord
Tattershall.

“This is maddening.” Lord Tattershall’s voice was

surprisingly fierce. It managed to make her look up from the
water at last, turning her eyes to him.

“Maddening?” she repeated in wonder. “Whatever for? You

asked me what I saw, and I am telling what I see, my Lord.”

“Perhaps you need spectacles for when you look in mirrors,”

he said, shaking his head. “You clearly do not see what I
see.”
“You are very kind to try and cheer me up, my Lord, but I am
afraid it will not work today.” She offered a sad smile and
turned away, walking along the promenade. Lord Tattershall
hastened to walk at her side, still shaking his head back and
forth. The wind whistled off the sea beside them, buffeting
the two of them.

“You have always managed to cheer me up when I am down.

What kind of friend would be if I gave up now?” he asked. “I
know just what to do.” He cut in front of her, blocking off
her path with the dress cane and turning his back on the
others in front of them. “I will do anything to make you
smile, just tell me what it is, and I will do it.”

“Anything?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“How about I perform a jig here in the middle of the

promenade?” he asked. “Or I could recant as many riddles as
I can muster?”

“You would do that? All for the sake of seeing me smile?”

she asked, tilting her head to the side as she watched him.

“I’m beginning to realize I would go a long way to see you

smile.”
“Then you are truly kind,” she said softly. “I fear it is not
something that can be accomplished today though.” She
walked around him again, continuing along the promenade.
“I am lost in my own thoughts. Let us leave it at that.”

“No!” Lord Tattershall said insistently, hurrying to catch up

with her again. “No, I will not let you wallow in any kind of
sadness. What has upset you so?”

Emily turned to him, finding her lips parting, ready to tell

him of the letter and the first note. Yet, how could she tell
him? They were so odd, such strange things. Even the letter
had purported itself to be from a friend, someone who was
trying to put her on her guard and protect her from Lord
Tattershall. She could not tell him.

“Forgive me,” she said, trying to summon a false smile. “We

are in this beautiful place, and we should be enjoying it.
There, I am smiling now, is that better?”

“No, for it is not a genuine smile.” He cut in front of her

again, his movement purposeful in stopping her from
following the others. “I will not rest, Lady Emily, of that you
can be certain. Not until I see a real smile on your face. So,
tell me what is worrying you so?”

“It does not matter.” She kept her voice firm. “It is simply
my own worries; I am being silly. That is all.” She tried to
walk past him another time, but he reached out and caught
her hand, turning her back toward him. The pressure of his
hand in hers was warm and keen, sending a tingle up her
arm, stopping her from thinking of making another attempt
to flee.

“If it is your reflection that bothers you so, then let me put
your mind at rest.” He spoke with vigor, stepping toward her
again so that he was looking down at her, prompting her to
look up at him. “I do not know what you saw just now when
you stared into the sea in such a way, but when I look at you,
Lady Emily, let me assure you, I see what everyone else sees.
I see a young lady of beauty, made all the more beautiful by
the fact that she doesn’t seem to know it.”

“Do not tease me, my Lord.” She looked down, breaking the
connection of their gazes, but he pulled on her hand again.

“I am not teasing you,” he said, his voice pleading. “How

could anyone look at you and see anything else? Believe me.
From the moment I met you I thought you striking, in every
way. You cannot have missed that even in our friendship you
have found me often staring at you.”

“I thought that was just because you were trying to think of

something to say,” she said with a small smile, looking up
toward him.
“Some of the time,” he confessed in a quiet voice. “Other
times, no, I am simply too busy staring at you.”

“But I’m so…” She trailed off, looking down at herself. She
was not slender like the others, nor did she have a gentleness
in her features like Charity and Grace did. “I do not have the
daintiness of my family.” She settled for these words,
amazed when Lord Tattershall pulled on her hand another
time.

“You have a different kind of beauty, Lady Emily. You are

bold, spirited, and more captivating than I think you will
ever realize.” His words caught her by surprise. Unable to
utter any words at all, she stared up at him, blinking. “It
worries me so that someone like you could truly think so
little of yourself.”

“What does it matter if I do?” she asked quietly. “I am

sensible to the truth.”

“No, you are quite blind to the truth.” He argued with her,
yet he betrayed a smile as he did so, shaking his head, as if
he could not believe her words. With her hand still in his, she
felt him lift it.

He glanced beyond them, up ahead to the others, before he

took a step nearer to her and lifted her hand to his lips,
kissing the back. It was far from the formal greeting done by
kissing a lady’s hand, for he lingered, and he held her gaze
over her wrist as he did so. Emily felt her breath catch in her
throat as she watched him, amazed by not only the sensation
that had started deep within her gut but the hypnotic way he
was staring at her.

As he slowly lowered her hand again, he never blinked, he

just kept gazing at her.

“Erm, my Lord,” she whispered softly. “Why did you do

that?”
 CHAPTER TEN

“Y ou two are taking your time, aren’t you?” Lord

Bolton’s voice made Aaron jump back. He released
Lady Emily’s hand, fearful of being caught being so intimate
with her.

Lord Bolton did not appear to have noticed, he was too busy
looking back to where his wife and other sister were talking
further down on the promenade.

“Come on, Emily, you know what our mother is like, she will
be most upset if we are late back for dinner.” Lord Bolton
gestured her forward.

“Yes, I’m coming,” Lady Emily said, her voice a little shaky.
She was busy glancing at Aaron, with those same eyes
widened in surprise. As the two of them turned to walk back
with Lord Bolton, either side of him, Aaron could not stop
looking at Lady Emily, the same way she appeared unable to
stop staring at him. He knew what she was thinking, it was
the same question she had asked, that hovered unanswered
in the air between them since Lord Bolton had interrupted
them.

Why did I do that? Why did I kiss her hand with so much intimacy?

They engaged in conversation with Lord Bolton all the way

back to the lodgings when Aaron paused on the doorstep. It
was with pain he said goodbye to Lady Emily, dispirited not
to be able to explain himself to her as he watched her retreat
inside, ready to change for dinner.

“All well, my friend?” Lord Bolton asked, coming to clap him

on the shoulder.

“Yes, very well,” Aaron said, finding the truth falling from
him. There was something in that moment with Lady Emily,
something so honest that he had loved. Yes, maybe she
couldn’t see the beauty that she had, but he had been
unashamed and unafraid of telling her what he truly thought
of her. “Good lord… I think I have just realized something.”

“Realized what?” Lord Bolton asked.

“I’ll tell you another time. There is another I must tell first.”
Aaron hurried into the lodgings, aware that Lord Bolton was
calling after him, trying to get him to stop, but Aaron could
not.

He went straight to his chamber and pulled down the flap of

the small writing bureau placed in the corner of his room.
With a harried manner, he prepared a fresh quill, with ink
and paper, before he wrote his mother’s name at the top and
began his letter.

‘Dear Mother,

Today, I think something in me has changed. I have thought much

of what you said that day when we took tea in the garden, where
you told me it was possible to fall in love more than once in your
life. To be perfectly honest, I thought such an idea impossible, yet
here I am prepared to rethink everything I have ever thought.

Something happened today with Lady Emily Bolton.

In many ways, I think I am a fool for not seeing it sooner. Since

the moment I met her, I was struck by her. She is so different to
any other lady I know, and her company is something I long for
more than anyone else’s. Her ability to make me smile when it is
the last thing that I feel like doing is powerful indeed. Who knew
someone could have such magic in them?
Here in Brighton, we took a walk on the promenade with her
family, and there together, I felt as if I had been hit by one of
those waves off the shore, for it struck me that suddenly. Lady
Emily is not just a lady I cannot stay away from, but someone I
never wish to be apart from again. She matters to me, more than
any other.

You were right, Mother. It is possible to fall in love again, and I

find myself in the midst of it, so busy falling in love that I cannot
even tell you when it began, only that it is happening at this very
moment.

One broken heart is enough for me. I do not wish to have another,
but perhaps with Lady Emily I have the chance of winning her
heart in a way I never had a chance in the past.

I long to hear your own tale, Mother. What you said in the past
hinted that there must be something. Have you fallen in love more
than once in your life? Perhaps love is not something that is spent
and then used up. Maybe we are all capable of much more than
we realize, like a natural spring where the water keeps flowing,
maybe this feeling is never ending. Maybe we can always find it
again.

I must go now. I am to have dinner with the Dowdings tonight.

Now I have realized what it is I feel, I know I must speak of it. I am
terrified of doing so, but I will not spend months, years even,
hoping for something that might never be as I have done before.
This time, I will know the truth from the beginning. I must ask
Lady Emily if I ever have the chance of winning her heart.

Write back to me soon.

Your loving son,

Aaron.’

Aaron signed the letter with a flourish before he stood up,

ringing for his valet, and choosing the finest suit he could
muster. Everything he had written in the letter was true, and
now was the time to find out if his heart had foolishly risked
itself again.

As he changed, he thought of the way Lady Emily had

blushed as he had kissed her hand that day on the
promenade, despite the wind chill coming off the ocean.
Perhaps his hope was not so foolish. Perhaps, Lady Emily
could be falling for him too.

“Well, it has to be your turn, Lord Tattershall,” Lord

Dowding said as their dessert was tidied away.
Aaron was still busy trying to control his laughter from the
last riddle. Over dessert in the private dining room where the
Dowdings and Aaron were sat, they had begun their usual
game of riddles and it had quickly descended into such
teasing and laughter that Aaron was having to wipe
streaming tears from his eyes. At his side, Lady Emily was
the same, pressing a handkerchief to her own eyes.

“My turn?” Aaron asked, trying to control his mirth.

“Pray, make it friendlier than my brother’s,” Lady Emily

said beside him, turning in her seat to face him fully. Aaron
found himself turning to face her completely too, such a
smile on his face that he thought by now her entire family
had to see the way he was responding to her. Yet none of
them had commented on it. “Otherwise, we will be here all
night!”

“Very well, in which case, I have one for you all.” Aaron sat
backed and folded his arms, pretending to be serious for a
moment.

“Oh, he is playing the game properly, look how hard he is

concentrating,” Lord Bolton teased, pointing at him from
the other side of the table.

“You will put the poor man off his game, Arthur,” Lady
Bolton said at his side, elbowing him for good measure. “Go
on, Lord Tattershall. We are all on tenterhooks.”

“As you wish.” He nodded his head and turned his eyes back
to Lady Emily, finding it almost impossible to address the
riddle to anyone but her. “My second is what sails the seas
and will hurry to port in a storm. My first is where criminals
are tried, with their lives and punishments at stake. My
whole is what lovers share.”

As Aaron finished his riddle, all the faces turned and looked
at each other. Some with squinted eyes and others with
screwed up brows.

“Why are all of these always so hard?” Lady Bolton asked

with a sigh.

“Is it love?” Lady Grace asked from the other side of the
table.

“No, it can’t be,” Lord Bolton said quickly. “That is just one
syllable.”

“Perhaps it is something of the kind?” Lady Dowding asked.

“Something that means something similar. Adoration or
admiration, perhaps?”
“No, that does not answer the sailing part of the riddle. Not
the trial of criminals.”

Aaron smiled as he looked around the table, seeing they were

all equally lost. Eventually, Lady Emily sat forward, her brow
creased in thought.

“Is it courtship?” she asked. Her words cut through the

murmurings and each head turned in Aaron’s direction.

“Yes, it is.” He held her gaze as he said it. He did not care if
he was being brazen, he wanted her to realize something of
what he was thinking.

“Good lord, well done, Emily,” Lord Dowding said. “I had a

feeling we were going to be here forever with that one.”

“Is it my turn again now?” Lord Bolton asked, to which the

others all objected profusely.

Aaron was relieved no one else had noticed his flirtation, but
Lady Emily must have done, for she was looking down at the
teacup in front of her, with that perfect blush taking over her
cheeks again. This was the moment now. He had hinted at
his thoughts, and he could not wait any longer without
telling Lady Emily how he felt.
I do not want this to simply be a friendship anymore. Please,
Emily. This could be everything I ever wanted and yet so much
more!

“Shall we retire to the other room?” Lady Dowding asked,

standing to her feet, and ushering them all to stand. Aaron
took the opportunity, moving quickly to his feet and pulling
back Lady Emily’s chair, offering his hand to her to escort
her to the other room.

He could not speak right away, for there was a hustle and
bustle in the other room. Mrs. Hall was called to prepare
brandies and ports for everyone, whereupon too much heat
was complained of, and a double set of doors that led out
onto the garden were thrust open.

Aaron felt Lady Emily disappear from his arm as she moved
toward these doors, stepping out to breath in the clean
seaside air. It was so late that it was dark out and her figure
was silhouetted by the moonlight.

Aaron glanced between her and the rest of the family who
were all gathering around a card table, setting up cards and
beginning to bicker over what game they should play first.
He took his opportunity. It might be the only chance he had
to have Lady Emily sort of alone.
He hurried out of the doors, following her, glancing back to
see if anyone watched the two of them together, but the
family were all too distracted to take much notice.

“Lady Emily?” he called to her. She had stopped at the edge

of the garden, leaning on the wall, and looking out to the
ocean beyond. She turned back, facing him with such a smile
on her face visible in the moonlight that he hurried forward,
his feet unable to stay away.

“No chaperone?” she said with a mischievous whisper. “We

will be in trouble for this!”

“The door is open,” he reasoned, gesturing back toward it.

“We are hardly committing too much of an offence.” She
giggled before looking up and connecting her eyes with his
again. “Did you come out here to escape?”

“I merely wanted a minute to look at the sea again.” She

gestured out to the ocean, turning to place both hands on the
wall as she gazed upon it. “Do you not think it is a beautiful
place? bewitching.”

“Very bewitching,” Aaron murmured, though he did not look

out to the ocean. This was something Lady Emily seemed to
notice as she glanced back to him with playfully narrowed
eyes and motioned toward the ocean.
“The sea is that way, Lord Tattershall.”

He laughed and stepped closer toward her.

“Surely you realize after what I said earlier today that I

would be looking at you than the sea?” he murmured softly,
gazing at her with wonder. Her lips parted though she
uttered nothing. She merely stared back up at him. “May I
speak freely?” he whispered.

“I hope you will,” she answered hurriedly. “You never did

answer my question as to why you kissed my hand in such a
way this afternoon.”

“Is it so unusual for a gentleman to kiss a lady’s hand?”

“In a formal sense, not at all, but you and I both know there
was nothing formal about what you did.” She stepped toward
him, her eyes widening as if they spoke of a scandal. “You
kissed me as if it was the thing that would keep you alive!”

“I’ll do it again if you let me.” He reached for her hand,

taking the fingers playfully in his own.
“Again? Wait, I do not understand,” she said, shaking her
head and looking down at their connected hands. For one
awful minute, Aaron feared she would pull her hand out of
his, but she did not. She let their fingers twist together in an
intimate grasp. “You are my friend, Lord Tattershall.”

“I am but must that always be the way it is between us?” he

asked in a whisper. At last, she looked up to him again. He
could have sworn those eyes were dazzling in the moonlight,
with unshed tears, but he could not be certain.

“You once told me your heart belonged to another.” Her

voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it above the sound
of the waves from the beach.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” He grimaced in memory of that

moment. “Allow me to set the matter straight, right now. My
heart has been in one place for some time now. In fact, I do
not think I even realized when it first began to reside here,
but it has been here. For goodness knows how long.”

“You are not making much sense, my Lord,” she said softly,
with the smallest of smiles.

“I am clumsy at this; I do not know what to say for the best.”

He ran his free hand through his hair, hoping it would
somehow calm the errant thoughts beneath his head. “Lady
Emily, my heart is yours. Completely. It has been with you
for some time, and I don’t think I even realized what that
meant until this afternoon, but the truth is, I am falling in
love with you.”

The moment the words were uttered he breathed deeply,

realizing exactly what he had done. He was laying his heart
on the line again. The last time had had done this, it had
been shot through, by the woman that turned away from
him. He was terrified of feeling that way another time.

“You know me well by now. You know I have hurt from love
before,” he said quickly, looking down at their hands and
swallowing past his fears before he looked up at her, gazing
at those eyes. “I fear I need to know now, before my heart is
hurt again. Do I stand a chance, Emily?” He abandoned her
title, for just this one time. “Do I ever have the possibility of
winning your heart as you have mine?”
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

E mily thought she must be dreaming, imagining herself

in one of her novels, for how could this be true?

“Emily?” Lord Tattershall whispered, staring at her with

what appeared to be desperate eyes. “Please, say
something.”

“I am afraid of waking myself from this dream,” she said

quietly. He smiled at once, hearing her words and lifting her
hand to his lips. The moment he kissed her hand, she
gasped, knowing without a doubt this was real. “This is all
true?” she asked breathlessly. “How can you be falling in
love with me? With me?” She was baffled by the idea.

“I could explain it all to you, but I have a feeling we would be

out here for many hours whilst I sang all your praises,” he
said with a smile, practically whispering against her hand
and teasing her with his lips on her skin. She giggled, unable
to keep that laughter in. How was it possible that he cared
for her in such a way? “I have a chance then?” he asked.

“A chance? You fool!” she said boldly, tapping him round the
arm with her other hand.

“What?” he asked, pretending to be hurt and affecting a

wince.

“The only reason I have stopped my heart from running

away with you is because I thought you loved another.” She
confessed the truth, feeling as she uttered the words that a
lightness took over her body.

For a minute, nothing else mattered. Not the woman who

had once had his heart, nor the letters up in Emily’s room
that were demanding Emily stayed away from Lord
Tattershall, all that mattered was that the two of them were
here together.

“I only love you,” Lord Tattershall whispered, lifting her

hand to his lips again. This time when he kissed her, he
turned her hand over, kissing the inside of her wrist. It was a
much more intimate area, with the touch of his lips against
her skin making her step toward him, practically into his
arms.
“The riddle you gave.” She laughed in realization. “It was
directed to me, was it not?”

“If you’ll have me,” he said playfully. “If you would consider
a courtship?”

“I…” Emily did not have time to answer for there was a loud
clap from the side of them.

Emily jumped back, but Lord Tattershall did not let her go,
he kept his hand firmly in hers this time as they both looked
toward the doorway that led back into the house. In the space
between the open doors, Arthur stood, looking at the two of
them with his hands clasped together.

“Hurrah!” he said with humor in his tone. “I have been sent

out here to the two of you as a chaperone.” He hurried
forward toward them. “I’m guessing by the stance you two
have taken that my appearance is somewhat late. Perhaps
that is a good thing.”

“Arthur, please.” Emily winced, wishing she could wish her

brother away anywhere else at this moment.

“You are clutching her hand for dear life, my friend,” Arthur
laughed, reaching their side.
“I had noticed,” Lord Tattershall agreed, smiling despite
Arthur’s jests.

“Arthur,” Emily said in a warning tone, making her brother

laugh even more.

“What? Can I not delight in the fact that you two have
stopped tiptoeing around each other at last?” he asked,
gesturing between the two of them. Both Emily and Lord
Tattershall looked sharply at him.

“What do you mean, tiptoeing?” Emily asked. “This is the

first moment we have discussed anything like this!”

“Do you think I’m blind, Emily?” Arthur asked. “One would
have to walk around like this to think there was no bond
between the two of you.” He turned round and closed his
eyes, walking back toward the house with his hands
outstretched in front of him and pulling laughter from them
both.

“Do me a favor and trip up on that step in front of you.”

Emily called after him.

“What step?” he asked, then promptly tripped on the very

step she had mentioned thanks to his closed eyes.
“That one,” Emily said, pulling a full laugh from Lord
Tattershall in front of her.

“Now, come on you two.” Arthur beckoned the two of them

forward. “Or would you like me to be the one to tell our
parents? Mother, father, guess what!” He turned to step
inside, calling to them.

“Arthur!” Emily called after him, ready to reprimand him,

but Lord Tattershall pulled her back first. “Ooh!” she
exclaimed in surprise as she fell toward him, reaching out
with one hand and finding it planting itself in the center of
his chest to keep herself standing.

“One more moment alone,” he whispered, lifting her hand

another time, and kissing the back. Emily could not stop the
giggle that had escaped her.

“It seems to be your new favorite thing,” she teased him,

earning another smile from him.

“That is because it is.”

“Lord Tattershall!” Archibald’s call from inside the house

made them both freeze and widen their eyes. “It sounds like
you have something you wish to speak to me about.”
“Well, it seems we can’t avoid this anymore.” Lord
Tattershall took Emily’s hand, lacing their fingers together
and led her back toward the house. As they moved, Emily
could not take the smile off her face. It did not seem to
matter that her cheeks were aching, the smile would not
stop.

As they stepped inside, Charity, Grace and Julia were all sat
at the table, whispering excitedly together. Arthur was
restless, appearing like he was barely able to contain his
laughter and Archibald was waiting for the two of them, with
folded arms and a feeble attempt at trying to maintain a
stern expression.

“Papa, please –” Emily began, but her father quickly cut her
off.

“It is about time,” he said with a sigh and gestured to their

clasped hands. “All right, who had a bet on the Brighton
trip?”

“I did!” Julia declared holding up a hand.

“No, you did not,” Arthur said, turning round with an

accusing glare at his wife. “That was my bet.”

“No, Arthur. You said it would be Christmas.”

“Did I really make such a long bet?”

“Yes!”

“Wait,” Emily called louder than the two of them, looking

between them all, agog with surprise. “You have been
placing wagers on the two of us?”

“We have.” Archibald declared first, smiling greatly. “If

you’d held out for one more week, my Lord,” he said,
addressing Lord Tattershall, “I would have won.”

“Ha!” Lord Tattershall laughed so loud that Emily forgot all

her objections to her family placing wagers on the two of
them. She was too busy looking at him, thinking how
different he was to the first night they had met, where he
had worn that sadness upon him. Now, he was truly happy.
In a way that he should have always been.

“Right, do we have an official courtship then?” Charity

asked. “If so, Archie, dear, perhaps we should ask Mrs. Hall
to open a bottle of champagne to celebrate?”
“Mama, we haven’t actually said –” Emily tried to slow
things down, waving a hand in front of her, but Lord
Tattershall beat her to it.

“If Lady Emily says yes, then yes, we do.” He turned to her
with a smile, waiting for her answer. Silence descended
everywhere as heads swiveled toward her.

How is this possible?

Emily’s thoughts could barely arrange themselves. How

could she have gone from fearing a letter that was telling her
to stay away from Lord Tattershall to this very moment
where he wished to court her, declaring that he was falling in
love with her.

“Yes,” she said, realizing how breathy her voice was as she
gazed up at him with her answer.

“Champagne it is then!” Archibald declared warmly, walking

away again. As the others talked excitedly, each one claiming
in turn that they knew there would be a courtship soon
enough, Emily turned her thoughts on Lord Tattershall.

“I hope you realize what family you are connecting yourself

with,” she said with a giggle. “They have been placing
wagers on us!”
“It shows how perceptive they are, doesn’t it? Seeing things
that I should have seen all along.” He lifted a hand to his lips
another time. On this occasion, he was more formal with his
kiss as they were surrounded by others, but that did not stop
the excitement that shot through Emily at that kiss.

As he pulled her toward the card table and the two of them
sat down together, they never once separated their hands,
staying permanently connected, with their fingers entwined
all evening.

“What a weekend it has been!” Charity said as she bustled

into Emily’s room. “I am so happy for you my dear.”

Emily smiled as she turned away from the window, packed

and ready to leave. Wearing her spencer jacket with her
bonnet over her auburn locks, she was ready to leave, though
she found her feet reluctant to part from the room. Her
mother came toward her, taking her cheeks in her hands and
patting her lovingly.

“Two days and already your suitor has to be the most

attentive I have ever seen. It makes me envious,” Charity
said playfully. “It makes me long for the days your father
was courting me.”
Emily giggled, scarcely able to believe what was happening
herself. Since Lord Tattershall had laid his heart bare at the
beginning of their trip, there had scarcely been a moment
where she and Lord Tattershall had been apart.

The first day they had gone sightseeing, wandering through

the Royal Pavilion and the surrounding gardens. The second
day had been spent mostly at the seaside before lazy walks
around the coast. Lord Tattershall had never left Emily’s side
and the two of them had always been jesting together,
constantly smiling.

“Oh, we mustn’t forget these.” Charity stepped away from

Emily and picked up the vase of flowers that was placed at
the side of the room. “Where on earth did he find these at
this time of year? Perhaps he found a hot house in
Brighton?”

“He refuses to tell me. I think he has a few tricks up his

sleeves. Like some sort of illusionist!” Emily said, laughing
as she took one of the red roses out of the vase and inhaled
the perfect scent. Lord Tattershall had brought them for her
the night before, saying the red rose was perfect for her,
beautiful, yet bold and seductive. She practically wriggled
with delight at the description. Me? Seductive?

“I will take them to Mrs. Hall. She may have some paper we
can wrap the stems in.” Charity crossed back to Emily again,
resting her hand dotingly on Emily’s cheek. “I am so happy
for you, dearest.”

“Thank you, Mama. I can tell. Your cheeks have such smiling
dimples I wonder if they have been created with hat pins.”
Her jest brought a raucous laugh from her mother who
bustled out of the room, holding the flowers out in front of
her.

For a minute, Emily could not leave the room. She turned in
a circle, not wanting to escape. This was the place that had
made her so happy. This was where Lord Tattershall had
given her his heart. It made her reluctant to leave at all.

“Lady Emily?” A voice called from outside of the room.

“Yes?” Emily moved to the door, finding Mrs. Hall on the

other side proffering her a letter.

“Another letter has arrived for you, my Lady.”

“Thank you,” Emily said, taking the letter and nodding her
head to the lady. Only after Mrs. Hall had left and Emily
pushed the door ajar again, did she turn her eyes to the
letter, then her smile wavered.
There was something wrong. The handwriting was the same
as in that note she had been given before. Something about
the f’s and s’ were very distinctive, slanting sideways and
curving down as low as y’s and g’s.

“Not another.” Emily felt the happiness leave her in a

woosh, as though it had been captured by a breath of wind
that rattled through the window, sweeping it away and
taking it far out of reach. She sat heavily down on the
window seat and ripped open the plain red wax seal in a
hurry, noting how thick the letter was as she worked. It felt
bulky, as if something had been pressed between the pages.

As the letter unfolded, shreds of material fell out, drifting to

the floor in loose strands. Emily stared, wide-eyed, gazing at
the shreds in wonder. It took a minute to recognize the
material. It was the same Pomona green silk that had been in
her last reticule.

“That’s not possible. I dropped that reticule in the river.”

She tossed the letter to the side for a minute, trying her best
to pick up the material as quickly as she could, grasping each
shred with frantic fingers. As fast as she picked them up,
they began to slip away again. “What is happening?” She
bundled the shreds on the window seat beside her before she
found one particularly strip of green silk. It bore the label of
the maker, the same label that was in her reticule. “It is my
reticule. Who would do this?”
She reached for the letter again, scrambling with such
purpose and panic that she knocked some of the shreds back
onto the floor. Pulling open the letter and flattening it out,
she found this letter was much shorter than the last.

It had to be sent by the same person, for the handwriting

was just the same, yet they made no attempt to hide their
meaning this time. It didn’t even take the form of a full
letter, it was just written hurriedly, in such haste that there
were ink splodges around the side of the page and down the
bottom where they hadn’t even signed off.

‘Lady Emily,

I have told you to stay away from Lord Tattershall and you have
not listened. Such gossip has reached London now that it leaves
me in no doubt of what your connection with him is. This is your
very last warning. Take heed, or you will find more problems as
such has befallen your reticule here. Enjoy trying to sew your
reticule back together.

Stay away from him.’

Emily dropped the letter to the shredded green material,

feeling her fingers were shaking.

“Who is sending these letters?”

 CHAPTER TWELVE

“I s my mother home?” Aaron asked as he stepped

through the doorway, into his father’s house. He
walked with a spring in his step and a practical bounce as he
handed the top hat over to the butler.

“Yes, my Lord. You will find her in the drawing room.”

“Thank you.” Aaron nodded his thanks and hurried off,

having to urge himself not to run as he crossed through the
corridors, winding his way through the house to find his
mother.

Since his return the day before from Brighton, he had been
determined to see his mother in person. Lady Emily had
made him happier than he could say, and he had one person
to thank for that, one person who had opened his eyes to the
fact that falling in love again was possible. My mother.
He tapped on the door of the drawing room, waiting for her
to call him inside before he opened the door.

“Aaron!” she said in surprise, jumping up from where she

had been practicing the pianoforte and breaking off mid
piece. “You’re back from Brighton.”

“I am indeed.” He hurried to meet her in the middle of the

room and embraced her, noticing how much his mother
clung to him in the embrace, with a kind of desperation. “It
is like you have not seen me for weeks.”

“You forget how little you come here these days,” she
pointed out with raised eyebrows as she parted from him and
urged him to sit beside her. There was no surprise there, he
had been avoiding seeing Hugh and Jane. “Your letter…”
Joyce paused and wafted a hand in front of her eyes, showing
how near to tears she was just at the mere thought of it. “I
cannot tell you how happy it makes me!”

“Happy? I feel like I need to lend you my handkerchief for

tears, mother.”

“Happy tears!” she cried, snatching the handkerchief he

proffered to her anyway and dabbing it to her eyes. “Lady
Emily. Oh, I knew how it would be,” she said dotingly. “I
knew you could find another to love. She sounds quite
perfect for you, dear.”
“I’m so pleased you think so.”

“Can I meet her again?” Joyce asked excitedly. “Bring her

here, to this house. Now the two of you are courting, it is
only proper she is brought here, after all.”

“Yes, of course, as you wish it.” He laughed softly at the

warmth of his mother’s reaction. She was gushing with it, so
overjoyed that Aaron found it contagious. “I have you to
thank for this, mother.”

“Me? What did I do?” Joyce asked, falling still in surprise.

“You are the one who pointed out love doesn’t just happen
once. You were right!” he said boldly. “I was so busy closing
myself off to the world, so certain that it wasn’t possible, I
almost missed it. Had Lady Emily not been so striking, had
she not got her humor, her smile, everything about her, I
might have missed this feeling.” As he spoke, he choked up.
He breathed deeply, breaking off in his uncertainty of being
able to continue.

Joyce placed a hand to his shoulder, lovingly, in that way

mothers do, all to give him comfort.
“This is as you always should have been, Aaron,” she said
dotingly. “This happy.” She chucked him under the chin,
making him feel he was ten years old again. He laughed off
the feeling, shaking his head before he turned his focus back
to his mother.

“Can you tell me now, mother?” he asked gently. “Am I right

in my suspicion that I am not the only one to have fallen in
love twice in their life?”

“You are right.” She rested back in the seat, looking abruptly
fascinated by the pattern of her dress as she fiddled with her
skirt and sighed. “It was a long time ago. When I first
debuted, Aaron, I fell in love. With a man that was soon
destined to marry another.”

It sounded so similar to what Aaron had been through that

he reached for his mother’s hand, desperate to bring
comfort. Joyce clung to his hand, looking up to his eyes
again.

“It was a challenging time. Much like what you went

through, when realizing what I longed for could never be, I
had a mourning period. Grief of a kind. I think part of it was
not truly mourning the love that I had lost but mourning the
life I thought was to be mine.” Her words were so apt that
Aaron jerked in surprise.
“That is a perfect description.” He had so long thought Jane
would someday be his Duchess that it was that future he
mourned as much as her, maybe even more than Jane
herself.

“When your father came along, my mourning was drawing

to an end,” she whispered softly. “Yet he made me see how
odd it was to keep myself in misery forever. I know he is a
busy man, always going here and there, and he does not
always have a lot of time, but when he is with me, Aaron, he
is the most loving man. Had it not been for his patience, for
his kindness, I would not have realized it was possible to love
again.”

Aaron could not keep the smile off his face as he held onto
his mother’s hands. Joyce had had her happy ending to her
tale, and Aaron felt for the first time, that he at last had the
chance of his own.

“Thank you for telling me, mother,” he said carefully. “I

know I am not alone in this feeling now.”

“You certainly aren’t.” She tapped his arm in comfort one

more time. “Now, tell me, when can I meet Lady Emily
again? Now I know just how you feel, I am impatient to greet
her. Are we to have wedding bells soon?”
“Wedding bells?” He laughed. “We are courting now,
mother. One step at a time.”

“As you wish, but just so you know, the two of you could
marry in the chapel here on the estate.”

“Mother!”

Emily was nervous, wringing her hands repeatedly together

as she stood in the entrance hall of the Duke of Parson’s
house. It was not what she had expected. Yes, she had
certainly expected it to be grand, yet it was magnificent, with
the entrance hall alone carved out of pink and white marble.
Even white statues and busts adorned the hallway on either
side, flanking anyone entering the building like some army
here for a parade.

“What a place this is?” Charity murmured at her side as she

joined her, accompanying Emily as her chaperone.

“Grand indeed.”

“Invited to teas such as this, soon the whole of the ton will
know of your courtship.”
She is right. This courtship cannot be a secret, can it? That would
be impossible! Whoever wrote that letter would know of it soon,
even if they do not already.

Since Emily’s last letter, she had been trying her best to
cover up her unease and fear. She did not want to be driven
away from Lord Tattershall, not by someone who could
merely be jealous of the two of them. She was happy at last!
Falling in love with a man like Lord Tattershall, how could
she not be? Yet the longer she tried to ignore the letter, the
more she felt it was burning a hole in a reticule back at her
house. She had stuffed all the remnants of her Pomona green
reticule into the other one, hoping to hide it there from view.

Today, those fears were harder to hide than usual. Perhaps it

was time, thinking more and more on the letter as time
passed, or perhaps it was the house before her, impressing
her with its grandness and making her feel very small
indeed.

“Are you here to see my father or my brother?” The voice

made Emily whip her head round to see Lord Hugh stepping
out of a nearby room. There were no pleasantries, not even a
smile or a bobbed bow. He accosted her at once with a
suspicious glare and did not seem to remember that they had
met before.

Charity moved forward and Lord Hugh’s eyes flicked to her,

as if seeing her for the first time.
“Lord Hugh,” she hurried to curtsy. “It is good to see you
again.” She hoped her gentle reminder would handle
matters, but it didn’t. He merely seemed to frown again.
“Lady Emily Bolton,” she explained herself, gesturing to her
chest. “This is my mother, the Countess of Dowding. We are
here to see your brother and mother.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” He nodded, though he still stared at

her, with something of confusion in him. “You are not quite
what I expected.”

The words made Emily freeze, with her fingers clenching

over the reticule in front of her.

“What were you expecting?” she said after a minute when

she realized he was not going to look away, only keep
glaring.

“Someone a little different,” Lord Hugh said with a shrug.

“When I heard my brother was to court a young lady, you are
just not what I pictured. I pictured someone more like…” He
trailed off. Emily did not need to ask him who, for they both
knew who he meant.

Miss Jane Drew. The woman Lord Tattershall thought he would

marry.
The sentiment was all so similar to what had been written in
her letters, that Emily wasn’t good enough, she couldn’t help
wondering if Lord Hugh had something to do with them, but
she dismissed the idea the next moment. Lord Hugh would
have no cause to write such letters to her.

“Perhaps you would be kind enough to take me to your

brother?” Emily asked, decidedly having had enough of this
moment. She was there to see Lord Tattershall, not to be
insulted by his brother.

Charity was bristling at Emily’s side, clearly startled by the

conversation that was passing.

In the distance of the house, a door closed, and footsteps

followed, signifying someone was on their way.

“It sounds like he is coming for you himself.” Lord Hugh

turned away, disappearing through the doorway where he
had first appeared. He had not bothered bowing in parting or
uttering any pleasantries at all.

Emily breathed heavily, glancing down at her attire, and

suddenly feeling so self-conscious that she hurried to
straighten the dress, more than a few times over.
“What was that about?” Charity asked her in a whisper.

“I am not sure I could explain it.”

“Lady Emily.” That familiar voice made her stop and look
up, feeling a smile break through her sadness momentarily
as her eyes met Lord Tattershall’s once he appeared on the
staircase. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” she whispered, feeling warmth spread through

her body as he hurried forward, taking her hand. He greeted
Charity before he turned his focus on Emily once again.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his perception breaking

through her barriers instantly.

“No, it does not matter,” she whispered, glancing toward

the doorway through which Lord Hugh had left.

“Something is wrong. Emily, what is it?”

Emily was saved from answering as the Duchess of Parson

hurried down the staircase next.
“I will escort Lady Emily home, mother.” Aaron took his
mother’s hand in a goodbye before he climbed into the
carriage to follow Lady Emily, where she perched there with
her maid sat opposite.

“As you wish. Lady Dowding can stay with me for a while so
we can discuss our events coming up in the season.
Goodbye,” Joyce said excitedly, waving to the two of them.
Lady Dowding was by her side, staying behind after the tea.
It warmed Aaron’s heart to see what good friends the two of
them had become in so little time. “Come again soon, Lady
Emily!”

As the carriage turned away, Aaron could not wait anymore.

He turned to face Emily with his eyes wide in wonder. He was
not afraid to speak frankly, even with the maid there to see
them.

“That was not quite what I expected,” he said, watching as

Lady Emily crumpled, her body falling forward.

“Oh, please do not look at me like that.”

“Was it nerves?” he asked, trying to take her hands and pull

them away from her face. The entire tea with his mother,
Lady Emily had been polite and kind, but she was missing
her usual vigor and spark. It was plain for anyone to see who
cared to watch her that something was wrong, making her
frown and look down every time she thought no one was
looking her way.

“No, it wasn’t nerves,” Lady Emily muttered softly, at last

allowing him to pull her hands away from her face and gaze
at her. At that moment, he did not care if the maid was there,
watching the two of them intently. He longed to be alone
with her instead, but right now, he would take what he could
get.

“Emily.” He abandoned her title entirely. What was the point

in addressing her as such anymore? They knew each other
better than that. “Please, tell me what is wrong,” he pleaded
with her, leaning forward, and holding her hands in his.

“A couple of things,” she whispered softly, with her face

lacking any of its usual humor. “When I arrived today, I saw
your brother.”

“Hugh was in the house?” Aaron asked, scarcely believing it.

His mother had not mentioned Hugh was there that day. In
fact, had Aaron known, he would have invited his mother to
his house instead, and avoided the risk of seeing Hugh at all.
“What happened?”

“I am not sure he could even remember meeting me before.

Let alone in what circumstances.” She shook her head,
appearing lost. “He said that he didn’t think I was the kind
of woman you would court.”

“He said that?” Aaron asked, feeling his eyebrows shooting

up across his forehead. “Emily, you must ignore my brother.
He is not a man to be trusted, and as far as kindness goes,
well he lacks any skill in that regard. That is something I
have discovered this last year. Please, do not pay any
attention to him.” With these latter words, Aaron made his
voice soft and lifted a hand to Emily’s cheek, finding himself
caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

He was relieved her chaperone seemed to be pretending

interest in what was outside of the window and ignoring the
two of them together.

Emily leaned into his hand, closing her eyes as if indulging

in that touch. The simple act made something stir inside
Aaron. He wanted nothing more than to enfold Emily
completely in his arms, to hold her to him, to keep her safe,
just to adore her and stop Hugh coming anywhere near her,
but he could not with the chaperone sat so close.

“Do not bother yourself with Hugh, Emily. I hardly care for
his opinion these days.”

“There is something else.” Emily chewed her lip and opened

her eyes, meeting his gaze. “Something I was trying to keep
a secret.”

“A secret? Why?” Aaron asked, feeling lost as he lowered her

hand from his cheek.

“I didn’t know what to make of it at first. I guess I just

thought someone was causing trouble, that it was best to
ignore the letters, but with the last one… I do not suppose it
is something I can ignore now. With the threat, I fear it will
only get worse.”

“Fear? Threat? Emily, you are worrying me. What letters are
you speaking of?” he asked, clinging to her hand with so
much passion that he could see his knuckles were turning
white.

“When we get to my house, you must come in,” Emily said

with sudden eagerness. “There is something I must show
you.”
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A aron followed Emily into the library, aware how out of

character she seemed. She was trembling as she lifted a
reticule from its place on the side of a shelf and a book that
had been resting beside it.

“Close the door, my Lord,” she said softly. The maid

followed them inside, hovering in the far corner of the room
and pretending interest in some embroidery in her lap.

Irked to have a chaperone at this time, Aaron closed the door

and moved forward, taking the reticule and the book from
Emily, looking between the two of them in surprise.

“I feel like I should understand more of what this is?” he

said softly.

“Open them.” She urged, waving one of her trembling

hands.
Aaron looked toward the maid another time. Had she not
been there, he would have happily cast the reticule and the
book to the side, embracing Emily. Instead, he gritted his
teeth and opened the reticule first.

“What is this?” he said quietly, peering inside and pulling

out what appeared to be shredded material.

“That was my reticule.”

“Your reticule?”

“I had it the day I fell in the river at Henley. I dropped it. I do

not know how someone had it, but someone must have
found it. Maybe it washed up on the riverbed. Either way,
they sent it back to me. Like this,” Emily murmured, stepping
close to his side and peering into the reticule.

Aaron could not respond straight away; he was too busy

staring at the shredded reticule.

“Someone with a vicious mind, that or petty. Either way,

whoever sent you this does not have a kind heart.”
“It gets worse.”

“What do you mean it gets worse?” Aaron panicked, looking

up from the reticule. Emily took it from him and waved
toward the book, urging him to open it up. He pulled back
the pages, noting briefly that it was the tale of some grand
romance. It pulled the smallest of smiles to his lips.

“You are fond of a romance, Emily?” he asked softly in a

tease, relieved to see she cracked the smallest of smiles
through her fear.

“Well, I suppose you know everything about me now.” She

shook her head. “I like romances. Who doesn’t?”

“Everyone likes romance, Emily.” Aaron spoke softly, loving

the way she blushed at his words.

“Read the letters,” she said, her smile vanishing as she

waved at the book again. He pulled open the pages, finding
three letters stuffed between the pages as a bookmark.
Opening them wide, he found his jaw slacken with surprise.

“Who sent these?”

“They never left a name.”

“This is…” Aaron could not think of the word. It was awful,
abhorrent, and needless to say invasive. He scanned each
one, finding his ire growing by the minute.

Who would dare speak to her in such a way?

“This is madness, Emily. I hope you are not going to start

listening to it and stay away from me?” He felt a leap of fear
in his chest as he panicked. He had found Emily, only just
fallen in love again. He could not bear to lose her.

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “How could I?” She
shrugged as if she was helpless in the matter. That simple
act broke Aaron. He tossed the letters to the side with the
book and reached for her hands, taking them both in his.

“You are scared what their threat means?”

“I know it is just a torn-up reticule, but it is a message, is it

not?”

“It is.” Aaron wished he could deny it, but he could not. It
was brutal indeed coupled with these letters. “Please, Emily,
do not be scared. Whoever has written these letters, they will
not come anywhere near you.”

“You cannot be certain of that,” she said, clearly trying to

brush off her fear as she attempted a smile, and it faded
quickly.

“I can. I will stay by your side, and I vow to you, no one will
come near to you. No one will hurt you.”

“My Lord, you cannot be beside me all the time.” She shook
her head. “What are you going to do? Set up a camp outside
of my bedchamber? I think my maid and my father will have
something to say about the matter.”

A smile cracked through Aaron’s flattened lips.

“I love how you can still make a jest, even at this time.”

“It is what I do!” Emily said, almost looking angered at

herself about the idea.

“I love it, Emily.”

“What?” she asked, jerking her head up to meet his gaze
another time.

“I love that about you,” he said simply, changing the way he

was holding her hands, entwining their fingers together.

The maid on the other side of the room, cleared her throat,
evidently making a signal that they should not be so close
together.

“Oh, Helena, find something fascinating out of the window

to look at for a minute, please,” Emily pleaded with a
desperate tone. The maid offered a smile and stood to her
feet, walking to the window.

“Very well, let us hope it is something very interesting to

hold my interest for so long.”

Aaron took advantage of the opportunity the moment the

maid’s back was turned. He moved closer to Emily, bringing
her hands closer to him, holding them against his chest.
Emily was breathless as she gazed up at him, her lips parted
in such a way that Aaron was finding it difficult to keep his
eyes off those lips. He had imagined enough times kissing
Emily, taking those lips with his own. Yet the maid was
clearly not going to stare out of the window for so long to
give him that opportunity. He snapped his gaze back to
Emily’s eyes again.
“Distracted?” she asked with a mischievous smile on her
lips.

“You have no idea how much,” he whispered playfully back,

prompting her to giggle. “Emily, when did this first letter
arrive?”

Emily’s smile instantly died. She looked down to where her

hands were clasped against his chest, swallowing, as if
trying to move past nerves.

“Before we went to Brighton.”

“Before? What about the reticule?” Aaron asked, growing

increasingly panicked. “When did that arrive?”

“At Brighton.”

“Good lord. Emily, why didn’t you tell me?” he pleaded with
her.

“I do not know.” Emily shrugged. “I guess part of me

thought it was ridiculous. That I was panicked about
someone’s petty letters. Besides, when the first letter
arrived, I never thought you would look at me, my Lord.”

“Aaron.”

“What?”

“Aaron. My name is Aaron, Emily.” Hearing her address him

as ‘my Lord’ was too much at this moment. “Call me by my
name, please.”

She smiled a little, only for a flicker of a moment before it

faded again.

“Please, never be afraid to tell me these things. If someone is

threatening you, then by God, I want to know about it,” he
said boldly. “Where else do you think I will be standing other
than between you and whoever is writing these disgusting
letters?”

“Aaron,” she whispered his name, smiling greater now. It

was as if she was trying out the name, delighting in the
moment.
“I think you like saying my name.” Aaron’s emotions kept
seesawing. One minute he was horrified at what he was
reading in these letters, the next he was thrilled, simply by
the way Emily was looking up at him as she whispered his
name.

“I do,” she confessed.

“Helena?” Aaron called to the maid.

“Yes?” she said, turning back to face them.

“Do me a favor and look out of that window for a bit.” He

gestured to the window on the far side of the room, pulling a
giggle out of Emily.

“Good lord, some chaperone I am turning out to be,” Helena

said, shaking her head at herself as she walked to the far
window.

“What did you do that for?” Emily whispered quietly. Aaron

released one of her hands and lifted it to her cheek, brushing
the crest of her cheek with the backs of his fingers in a sweet
caress. The way her breath hitched at the touch made him
lean down toward her.
“For this.” He could not hold himself back anymore. One
kiss, what would be so bad about that when they were
already courting? She needed this at this moment, to know
that he was there and not going anywhere, despite the horror
in these letters, and he needed it too.

His lips hovered over hers, about to take that kiss when there
was an insistent tap at the door.

“Damn,” Aaron muttered, leaning away from Emily again.

“If we had only had a few more seconds,” Emily said,

looking up to him and chewing her lip.

“Indeed.” Aaron stepped back from her, though he did not

release her hand as Helena turned back from the window.
“Yes?” he called to the door.

The butler opened the door, walking into the room with a
warm smile as he approached Emily.

“My Lady, a letter has arrived for you.” He proffered forward

a silver tray, engraved with vines, on top of which there was
a letter, sealed in red wax.
“Thank you.” Emily took the letter and held it to her chest,
waiting for the butler to bow before he walked out of the
room again. He did not close the door, urging Aaron to rush
forward and close it behind him. By the time Aaron turned
back, he found Emily staring down at the letter in her hands,
her lips parted.

“What is it?” he asked, approaching her quickly.

“The ‘f’s and the ‘s’. Look, they are just the same.” She
pushed the letter unopened toward him. He could see just
what she meant. It was the same handwriting. Something
twinged inside Aaron, something about a recollection.

Have I seen this handwriting somewhere before?

“Maybe do not open it.” Aaron was more than ready to

snatch the letter from her. He turned round, hoping to see a
fire roaring where he could toss the letter and burn it, never
having to deal with this matter again, yet Emily was too
quick. She turned away and broke open the red seal. “Emily!”

She paused, her body going still as she read the letter.

“Well, it is much the same.” She attempted to jest, it was

clear, though her fingers were trembling once again. “This
writer clearly has a lack of imagination as they have said as
much before, simply in a new way.”

“What do they say?” Aaron hurried to reach her side and

peered down at the letter in her hand.

‘Lady Emily,

Break off your courtship. The Marquess of Tattershall is destined

for a match finer than you. He deserves someone of beauty and
greater standing, not you. A lady who pales in comparison to her
family, and who hardly anyone remembers.

This is your last warning. End your courtship at once, or you will
receive more than just letters and a torn-up reticule.’

“God’s wounds,” Aaron muttered. Seeing the anger written

in such a way, it was hardly surprising Emily’s breath
hitched. He could hear the tears even before he turned to
look at her. “Emily, please –”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, sniffing and trying to turn

away, hiding her eyes from him.
“Never hide form me, Emily.” He took hold of her hands,
pulling her back toward him again, at which point Helena
cleared her throat another time. “Helena, forgive me, but
this is important right now. Please find something else to
look at out of the window.”

The chaperone sighed but nodded slowly, turning back to the

window.

“Please,” Aaron muttered, turning back to Emily, and

pulling her so far toward him that she fell into his arms. The
warmth that spread through him with the touch was
intoxicating, making him wrap his arms around the curve of
her waist. “Never hide from me.”

She looked up at him, her eyes going wide, with those

unshed tears still there, making the dark blue glisten.

“Whoever wrote these letters aren’t going to stop, are they?”

she asked, staring at him as she chewed her lip. His eyes
flicked down to her lips, feeling that same urge to kiss her
again. “They do not understand why someone like you would
want to court someone like me.”

“I can answer them easily enough. If we ever meet them

then I will gladly shout it in their ear until they pay
attention. Emily, you make me happy. Happier than I have
been in goodness knows how long. So, here is what we are
going to do.”

He stepped away from her, releasing her, for he feared if he

kept holding her in his arms his resistance would break and
he would kiss her, and this time without the interruption of
the butler.

“We are going to take these.” He snatched up all the letters

from where he had thrown them down and tossed them into
the fire. Grabbing the tinder box off the mantelpiece, he bent
down to the hearth and struck a light. “Now, we are going to
get rid of them for good.” He burned them. The fire took
hold quickly, making the pages curl and blacken, with the
first note disappearing into ash within seconds.

“Why did you do that?” Emily asked, stepping forward and

dropping to her knees, as if she was ready to claw the letters
back out of the fire.

“Because you cannot live in fear of these.” He was kneeling

beside her as he took her hands in his, pulling her toward
him another time. “I won’t let that happen. We are going to
forget about this, and the next time something like this
happens, you tell me.”

“What good will it do, Aaron? They will simply keep

writing.”
“No, people like this become bored eventually. This kind of
thing…” He paused, gesturing into the flames. “It is simply
the work of a mind who takes pleasure in other people’s
misery. I am hardly going to let you be miserable now, am
I?” he asked, releasing one of her hands and gently tapping
her chin, urging her to look up to him.

“You really think so? You think they will stop and grow
bored?”

“I am confident in it,” he said pointedly, finding it harder to

remove his fingers from her face as he began to trace the
curve of her cheek another time. “In the meantime, forget
what those letters said. We are not letting go of each other,
Emily. We cannot let that happen.”

“I do not know what I have done to deserve your kindness.”

Her smile grew wider.

Aaron felt he could never be kind enough to this woman. He

would do anything to make her happy, yet he also knew the
answer to why he felt this way. He had already told her once
that he was falling in love with her, but he had not yet told
her the true depths of what he felt. Now was the time, after
reading these horrid letters, and he was going to risk not
hearing her say it back.
“I love you, Emily.”
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T he air was quiet as Emily stared back at Aaron, uncertain

she had heard him right at all. Her lips parted in wonder,
as she noticed Aaron’s smile begin to grow.

“I was afraid to tell you. You do not have to say it back, I

know it is soon, really quite quick, but it is how I feel.” He
was speaking in a rush, as if desperate for the words to
escape him. “I just wanted you to know the truth, to know
that I am not going anywhere, Emily. Because I –”

“I love you too.” The words came easily from Emily. She had
already known she was falling in love with the man before
her, but this moment right here was the thing that made her
certain. He had taken such efforts to comfort her, to assure
her that he was not going anywhere. How could she not love
him for that?

“You do?” he asked, laughing, in almost a befuddled happy

state.
“I really do,” she giggled, seeing his smile grow so much
wider, it was a wonder his face could contain the grin.

“Is your maid still looking out of that window?” Aaron

asked, nodding his head in the maid’s direction. Emily
turned her head, thankful to see Helena had fixed her focus
on the most distant window in the entire room, looking out
to the garden with her back firmly to them.

“Very much.”

“Thank god for that,” Aaron murmured as she turned back

to face him. He leaned down toward her, lifting those fingers
to caress her cheek one more time, before his lips found
hers.

Emily was frozen to the spot. Her first kiss was something
she had pictured often, but never had she thought such a
chaste kiss could be so enthralling. Her body responded to
his touch, as if she had been struck by a bolt of lightning
delivered by him. She reached up on her toes, trying to
maintain that kiss for as long as possible, with his lips
pressed firmly to hers.

When they parted, with Emily resting back down on her soles
and Aaron placing his forehead against hers, they both
laughed softly.

“I didn’t think a kiss could be so…” She struggled for the

right words.

“Exhilarating?” he offered.

“Oh, so you think your kiss is exhilarating?” she teased him

instantly, loving the way he tipped his head back, lifting his
forehead off hers and laughing warmly.

“Yours certainly is.” He leaned down toward her again. She

forgot any want to tease him, loving this mischievous
moment of a stolen kiss. His lips were hovering over hers,
tempting her with the promise of another. “I realize I have
been bold already, Emily. Permit me to be bold again?”

“I beg you to hurry to do it before we are interrupted,” she

whispered, against his lips. He moved down toward her,
before his body stilled, his eyes going wide.

Emily realized but a beat later what had stopped him. There
were footsteps in the corridor beyond the door.
They both leapt away from each other, stumbling back so
that there was a distance between them.

“Will they know?” Emily asked in a harried whisper.

“Not if your maid agrees to keep a secret,” Aaron said with a

wink as he hurried to a seat nearby, affecting a comfortable
position, as if he had been there all along.

“Helena?” Emily asked, turning her head to her maid as she

copied Aaron on the other side of the room, affecting a
similar pose of nonchalance with her book in her hand.

“Yes, I agree. Though I have proved myself to be a poor

chaperone indeed.” Helena broke off sharply as the door
opened.

“Ah, I thought we might find them in here.” Archibald’s

voice greeted them as he stepped into the room, shortly
followed by Arthur. “How was the tea with your mother, my
Lord?” he asked, turning his focus on Aaron.

“It was pleasant indeed,” Aaron said, his tone perfectly at

ease. Despite the casualness of the conversation, Emily was
fidgeting in her chair, something Arthur clearly noticed, for
his eyes were flicking between them, with a suspicious frown
upon his face.
Aaron must have sensed that look, for he turned his eyes on
Emily and winked, just for her to see. She had to bite the
inside of her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

Scandalous indeed!

“My Lord, would you care to stay for dinner?” Archibald

asked and gestured back through the door. “It is not long
now, after all.”

“He seems to be here for dinner most days, father,” Arthur

said with amusement as he folded his arms.

“If the offer stands, yes, Lord Dowding, I would love that,”
Aaron said, turning his eyes back to Emily as he spoke.

“I could have laid a wager on his answer.” Arthur spoke with

mischief, even as Archibald urged him out the door again.

“Are you trying to cause mischief?” Archibald asked,

following him out of the door.

“Who could resist?” Arthur shrugged with the words.

Emily stood to her feet as Aaron did, with the two of them
following the others out of the room, but at a much slower
pace. Emily took the opportunity to come closer to Aaron’s
side, unseen by her father and brother. He brushed his arm
against hers. It was a small touch, but one that made her
cheeks blush, reminding her of what they had just shared.

“My Lady, shall I put out the fire?” Helena’s voice from in
the room made Emily pause in the doorway and look back,
reminded of the burning letters that were now almost
cinders.

“Yes, thank you, Helena.” Emily nodded her head to the

maid before she turned back to look at Aaron. The simple
reminder of what was in the fire brought back the horror she
had known a few minutes ago.

“About the letters,” she whispered to Aaron as they turned

around and walked into the corridor. “What should we do?”

“There is not much we can do. Without knowing who sent

them, we cannot tell them to stop. We must merely wait for
them to stop and grow bored.”

“That could take a while,” Emily murmured, more to herself

with worry as her hands fidgeted in front of her. It had to be
an action that Aaron noticed, for he took hold of her hand,
stopping her from fidgeting. His touch was warm as he
threaded her hand through his arm, rested it on the crook of
this elbow, and placed his fingers over hers, never releasing
her.

“We will continue as we are, Emily,” he said quietly. “We

will simply have to show whoever is writing these awful
letters that we won’t be scared.” His smile warmed her
heart, reminding her of what had passed, the confession of
love and that one stolen kiss.

If only we could have stolen another!

“Are you two coming?” Arthur’s voice called from up ahead.

“We’re coming,” Aaron called back before he lowered his

voice so only Emily could hear him. “Just at a much slower
pace so we can have another minute alone together. I’m
already looking forward to the next time we can ensure our
chaperone is looking elsewhere.”

She giggled at the idea as they followed the others toward

the dining room.

“Impatient man,” she teased him, loving the way he laughed

warmly at her words.
“You know me well indeed.”

“Emily? Emily, look who has come to see us!” Charity’s voice
was gushing with excitement.

Emily hurried to place down her book. The Captain and

Elizabeth’s relationship absorbed most of her free time at
the moment, though in those roles she firmly pictured
herself and Aaron. She was the maiden these days atop the
ship’s deck, defying her father’s wishes by pursuing a
courtship with the Captain, and the Captain was Aaron,
dressed in a fine uniform, but quiet and mysterious, with
longing stares shared across the deck.

“Who is it?” Emily asked, closing the book, and hiding it

behind a cushion beside her on the settee.

“The Duchess of Parson,” Charity declared as she walked

into the room, followed closely by Aaron’s mother.

Emily instantly stood to her feet and hurried to curtsy, just

as the Duchess bustled into the room.
“Lady Emily.” She crossed the chamber, followed by Charity,
with her arms outstretched in Emily’s direction. “It is so
good to see you again.” She took Emily’s hands, treating her
instantly like the oldest of friends or family, even though
they had but shared one tea together. “I do not think Aaron
has stopped talking about you since you came to see me for
tea. I must thank you.”

“Thank me? Whatever for, your Grace?” Emily asked, aware

that Charity was calling for a maid to bring tea for the three
of them.

“For what you have done for my son.” The Duchess’ words
stunned Emily so much that she did not move for a minute,
she just continued to hold onto the lady’s hands, staring
back at her in wonder.

“Your Grace, please, take a seat, tea will be brought shortly,”

Charity’s words reminded Emily of propriety and urged her
into action. She made room for the Duchess on the settee,
being careful to hide her book away as she did so, keeping it
firmly behind the cushion as she tucked it behind her back.

“Your Grace, your gratitude is very kind,” Emily said,

turning her focus on the Duchess, “but I have done no great
thing for your son.”
“You have! You do not know what a changed man he is since
he has known you.” The Duchess had tears in her eyes as she
spoke. Emily found herself reaching for a handkerchief and
offering it to the Duchess. “Oh, aren’t you sweet. Here I am
come to issue an invitation, and within the first few
sentences I am crying with happiness on your settee. Pray,
forgive the ways of an old woman, like myself. I live purely
for the happiness of my children.”

“That is sweet indeed.” Emily urged the Duchess to keep the

handkerchief after she dried her tears and attempted to give
it back. “You said A –, I mean, you said Lord Tattershall was
much changed?” She spoke quickly, trying to cover up her
error of nearly addressing him as Aaron, much to the delight
of the Duchess and Charity, who had clearly both heard her
slip and shared an amused smile between them.

“A shell of a man, he was. I am quite convinced of it. No

doubt he has told you his own tale already, so I will not go
into it,” the Duchess dismissed the idea away with a wave of
her hand before she looked back to Emily another time.
“What I do want to say is what lightness you’ve brought to
his life. These last few weeks, he has always had a smile on
his face. He is either humming some joyous tune or
recounting some tale of you. He is genuinely happy. For that,
you are entirely to thank.” The Duchess tapped Emily’s
hand, warming her heart.

“I am?” she asked, almost stammering with the words,

scarcely able to believe it.
“The happiness of two people in love,” Charity said with a
wistful smile. “Sometimes I wonder if there is a greater
thing in this world.”

“I quite agree,” the Duchess declared with glee.

In love… The words made Emily blush and look down. She
longed to make some jest to lighten the moment, but she felt
she could not. She was so happy, with her heart soaring too
high to make light of the matter. She adored Aaron, which
was plain for her to see, and it seemed he was so besotted
with her that his own mother was practically in tears at the
idea.

Emily turned her eyes on her gown and her figure, finding
she was looking at herself in a new light. She was wearing an
ivory white gown, one she had once feared showed off her
plump figure, but the last time Aaron had seen her in that
dress, his expression had suggested she looked different to
how she thought she appeared. His eyes had wandered over
her figure before returning to her face. He had promptly
moved toward her, whispering in her ear that she should
avoid wearing the gown again whilst they were courting. It
made his imagination run wild.

“Now, I long to hear more of how your courtship with my

son is going,” the Duchess said, bringing Emily’s thoughts
back to the moment. She blushed all the more, realizing just
where her thoughts had wandered to whilst talking with his
mother. “Yet first, I must deliver my invitation.”

“What invitation?” Charity said as the Duchess fished in her

reticule and pulled out a sealed strip of thick paper, sealed
with red wax and emblazoned with the Duke of Parson’s
emblem.

“It is to a ball, to be held at our home,” she said, looking

between the two of them with hope. “My husband so rarely
holds such events. He is always so busy with his tenants and
the land, but he is quite determined to hold one this year, to
celebrate our sons. It will be quite a spectacle. He has even
arranged fireworks for the evening.”

“Fireworks?” Charity murmured in wonder. “How

marvelous!”

“Indeed.” The Duchess turned in her seat as she spoke,

fixing Emily with her gaze alone. “It is imperative to us both
that our sons have the guests they truly desire there. I know
Aaron would not be happy unless you, Lady Emily, and your
family were there for the event.”

“When is the date?” Charity asked as she broke the seal on

the paper and opened it up, only to frown a little. “There is
no date on the invite.”
“Oh no, we couldn’t pick a date, not yet, not until we can be
sure the date will work for you all. So, what do you say, Lady
Emily?” the Duchess asked, addressing Emily alone again.
“Pick any date you like, and we will arrange the ball for then.
Say you will all come?”
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“N ew gowns for everyone,” Charity declared as the

carriage door was swung open, and the footman
helped her down. Emily waited for her sister to descend
before she turned her eyes on Julia at her side.

“I do not think I have ever seen my mother so happy,” she

whispered to her sister-in-law. “Do you think it has
something to do with the promise of fireworks at this ball we
are to attend?”

“Ha! Do not tease her today,” Julia said, trying to hold in her
laughter as she too clambered down from the carriage, with
Emily close behind her. “She is thrilled for you, that is the
truth of the matter.”

Emily laughed too as Julia took her arm. They followed

Charity and Grace toward the modiste’s shop on Bond Street,
peering in the window for a minute at the fabrics that were
stretched out on bolts before them.
“Is it really necessary to have new gowns, mother?” Emily
murmured as she stared at the material. There were such
patterned and elegant materials this season, replacing much
of the plain and pastel materials of previous seasons. Each
one stretched out before their eyes was expensive and
illustrious. “These fabrics… they will make any wearer stand
out in a crowd.”

“Exactly,” Charity said with glee. “Come, girls, hurry.” She

led them inside, even as Emily tried to dig her feet into the
ground. She usually avoided buying such dresses as her
mother was describing. It was an action clearly noticed by
Julia who was jolted back beside her with their arms
connected.

“Is there something wrong, Emily?” Julia said quietly, trying

to urge her to move into the shop.

“Perhaps they have something a little plainer,” Emily

whispered as she chewed her lip, at last letting Julia lead her
into the shop.

“Why are you so fond of a plain dress? If you do not mind me

asking.”
“It is not that I am fonder of them. It is simply that I think
they suit me well.” Emily’s hands began to fidget around the
reticule in her grasp as they walked further into the shop.

“Oh, Grace, this one would look beautiful on you.” Charity

held up a silken blue material, one that went perfectly with
Grace’s beauty.

“Do you think?” Grace asked excitedly, holding the sample

over her current gown. “It is extravagant indeed. Look at this
lace detailing across the front. I think it quite perfect.”

“Emily? Which material do you like?” Julia led Emily away

from the others. Together, they walked around the shop,
where Emily made a beeline for a small corner that was filled
with the plainest of materials. She released Julia’s arm and
reached for some of the duller fabrics. “These?” Julia asked
in surprise.

“Yes,” Emily said quietly, glancing back to her mother and

Grace together. “Those extravagant materials suit Grace,
they do not suit me so well.”

“What on earth makes you say such things?” Julia asked, her
manner surprisingly firm as she placed her hands on her
hips.
“Julia, you’d think I had threatened to kick a puppy the way
you are glaring at me.” Emily’s jest made Julia briefly smile,
but it did not last long.

“I think you would suit the bold materials as well as the

plain.”

“I am not so sure.” Emily shook her head. It was always the

way. Ever since she could remember she had opted for the
more muted colors, leaving Grace to have the gowns that
were more eye-catching. The boldest gown Emily owned was
her Pomona green dress, the one she had been wearing the
first night she had met Aaron.

“What would Lord Tattershall say, I wonder?” Julia said,

walking a little away as she perused the materials. “What
material would he put you in, do you think?”

Emily paused with the plain white material she had in her
hands and looked up at the other materials.

“In truth, I do not know.” She could not answer the question
for he had been kind indeed and admired practically every
gown she wore these days.

“Why do you like the plain colors, Emily?” Julia asked, her
tone more somber once again.
“Because they help to blend into a corner.” She picked up
another sample, feeling the chance to be playful return. “Or
maybe I should pick something like this, then I can blend
into the curtains.” Her jest did not even manage to pull a
smile from Julia this time, who merely folded her arms as
she stared back at her.

“Do you want to blend into the curtains, Emily?”

“No.” The answer came from her surprisingly honestly. She

lowered the two samples in her hands and turned back to
wander across the room. She hovered a hand over some
much grander materials, inlaid with such details of
embroidered lace that her eyes were lost in tracing the
curves and swirls of each one.

“Then, what would you like to wear?” Julia asked, reaching

down to one of the samples beside Emily. “I think you would
look nice in this.” She picked up a midnight blue sample,
with white lace detailing, designed to brighten the material.
She held it up to Emily’s cheek, checking the color against
her eyes.

“How about this one, Emily?” Grace hurried over, startling

Emily by throwing a much larger sample over her shoulder.
It was satin purple, almost regal and royal in its rich color.
“I could not wear that!” Emily declared, trying to push the
material off her, but Grace would not let her.

“Why on earth not? I think you would look quite stunning in

it.”

“How about this one?” Charity’s voice interrupted their

conversation as she walked over with a fresh bolt of material
that had just been handed to her by the modiste. This one
was white, but it was embroidered with dark red thread,
almost the color of Emily’s auburn hair. It was both a
delicate and equally bold pattern, one that made Emily walk
toward it, reaching out a hand and dancing her fingers
across the embroidered material. “What do you think, Emily?
Would you like to try something a little different for a
change?”

“Maybe, just this once,” she said, hearing Grace clap her
hands together behind her.

“Hurrah!” Grace declared. “Quick, get her fitted before she

changes her mind.”

Emily stepped out from the curtain toward the mirror,

finding she could not quite look up into the mirror just yet.
“Oh my…” Charity practically breathed the words, fluttering
a hand beside her chest. The move was just visible out of the
corner of Emily’s eye. “You are quite stunning, Emily.”

“She cannot look,” Julia’s voice wafted nearer as she came to

stand behind Emily. “Go on. Take a look.”

Emily breathed deeply before lifting her chin and looking

into the mirror. The modiste had spent a long time pinning
the material over her stays and chemise, until a gown was
formed. As Emily finally looked at the mirror, she was
uncertain she was looking at herself at all.

It was as if a different woman was staring back at her,

wearing such a striking gown that her own eyes couldn’t
move away. The neckline was deep and square, with the
waistline accenting what appeared to be a slim waist
between curves. If anything, it emphasized the subtle swell
of her hips, down to her legs with floating soft material
falling delicately to the floor. The color perfectly matched
her hair, leaving Julia to stand beside her and fuss with her
hair.

“How about doing your hair like this for the ball?” she
suggested, pushing more curls to the front of her head so
more color was on show.

“I like it,” Emily muttered, smiling into the mirror.

She could so easily picture the day that Aaron had brought
her the dark red roses, she felt for the first time that she was
perhaps good enough to receive one of those roses.

Maybe I am not quite as bad as I always thought…

“The red rose is perfect for you.” That is what Aaron had said as
he had presented them to her. “Bold and seductive.”

“Oh, we simply must have that one.” Charity was on her feet
already, hurrying toward the modiste as Grace came near,
fluffing out the skirt of the gown.

“Emily, I think your suitor might swoon when he sees you in

this,” Grace said, fussing with her skirt a little more.

“Do not tease me.” Emily waved off the praise.

“I am not teasing you,” Grace insisted. “Have you seen

yourself in that mirror?”

Emily turned her eyes toward the mirror again, finding a

smile take up place at last.
“Maybe it is not so bad,” she said aloud, much to the joy of
Julia and Grace who shared a smile of their own.

“Good lord, Emily,” Grace said with a sigh. “If you wear this,
I think I’ll fade into the background.”

“You? Never!” Emily laughed off the idea. “You could never
fade into the background.”

Yet Grace went on at length of how it was not true, and Emily
looked back at her sister in surprise. Emily had always felt
inferior to her sister’s slim and very elegant beauty, but
Grace was the one who sounded as if she felt inferior now.

Perhaps things are not as I always thought them to be.

Emily twirled round in the mirror one last time, examining

the back and the short train with the red embroidered
material shining strongly in the daylight. Her last thought
before the modiste took it off again was of Aaron. I hope he
likes it.
“They are here!” Grace’s excited call made Emily look up
from her book. She had been hiding in the library once again.
She was so close to finishing off the Captain’s and
Elizabeth’s story, she was intent on ending it soon, for she
so longed to know if their love came to fruition or not, yet it
seemed she would not be given satisfaction that day.

Julia’s head appeared in the doorway of the library.

“Found you,” she declared, hurrying inside.

“Damn, and I was hiding so well,” Emily mocked herself,

gesturing down at the chair where she had been sitting.
“Perhaps if I had built up a bigger pile of books in front of
me you would not have been able to find me. Though it
would have to be a very big pile indeed.”

“No more of that.” Julia brushed off her words and reached
for her hand. “Put down that book.”

“Where are we going?” Emily asked as she closed up the

book and stood to her feet, following Julia out of the library.

“Did you not hear Grace? They are here.”

“Who is here?”

“Not who. What.”

“Very well, then what is here? You are still not giving me an
answer, despite my ineptitude at asking the question.”
Emily’s tease made Julia laugh again just as they stepped out
into the entrance hall of the house.

“The gowns are here,” Julia said, gesturing toward where

the modiste’s delivery had been made.

In the middle of the entrance hall, the maids were holding up

dress boxes, each one pinned with paper to say who the
gown belonged to. Grace and Charity were beside the maids,
already delving into their own boxes with speed.

Charity’s dress was the first to come out. Elegant cream with
soft embroidery, it was both regal and demure, quite perfect
for Charity. She held it up against her body and turned round
to the younger women, clearly longing for their opinions.

“Oh Mama, it is beautiful.” Emily rushed forward and fussed

with the skirt. “That modiste is a wonder, what she can do
with this material.”
“It is true. Quick, open yours,” Charity urged Emily forward.
Yet she did not open her gown just yet. Instead, she watched
as Grace opened her dress, of light blue silk rimmed at the
bottom hem and along the bust with white lace. Grace was so
busy gushing over it, spinning around in a circle that she
nearly fell over some of the other boxes.

“Careful, Grace,” Emily said with a giggle. “You are so

excited you are like a newborn deer, walking for the first
time.”

“I feel like one.” Grace pretended she was struggling to

walk, making them all laugh before Emily turned to her own
box.

She lifted the lid, just as something felt wrong. The tissue
paper that covered the gown was ripped. Thinking it must
have been damaged in transport, she pushed the tissue paper
to the side and reached for the sleeves of the gown. Yet as
she pulled it out of the box, a beautiful gown was not
revealed.

It was still intact, but barely. Huge cuts and slashes had been
made in the material, cutting it through to such a degree
that in some places, sections were barely hanging on by a
thread.
“My goodness.” Julia practically tripped on the marble floor
in her effort to reach Emily’s side. “How can this happen?”

Emily could not answer. It was plain to see the slash marks.
Someone had taken tailoring scissors to the material, cutting
it up beyond all recognition.

“Has there been some awful accident?” Charity asked,

stumbling forward too.

“An accident? How can it be an accident?” Julia mumbled in

wonder as she took the material from Emily’s hands.
“Someone has cut it. They have vandalized the gown.”

In their harried movements, what was left of the dress

holding itself together tore apart, leaving part of it in
Emily’s hands and the other part in Julia’s.

“God’s wounds,” Julia muttered, almost letting what was

left of the dress in her grasp fall to the floor.

“This is outrageous!” Charity’s anger was so loud and

sudden that even the maids took a step back. “Send a
complaint to the modiste at once. A replacement gown must
be made.”
“Mama, there isn’t time.” Emily cleared her throat, trying to
soften the erratic beating of her heat in her chest. “There is
only three days until the ball now.”

“Then she will have to work quickly to see the task done. We
paid for this dress, and I will not have it delivered to you like
this.”

“I do not understand.” Julia kept shaking her head as she

turned to Emily, gesturing at the torn-up pieces. “The
modiste would surely not do this, not to her own work. Who
would do this, Emily?”

She could not answer. Her hands were beginning to tremble,

and she tried to hide that shaking movement behind the
shredded material. She had a feeling she knew exactly who
had done it. Whoever was behind those awful letters had
found another way to scare her. A ripped reticule was clearly
not enough, and they had proceeded to tearing up gowns.

“I do not feel that is the right question,” Grace’s voice was

shaky as she moved to Emily’s other side, her head shaking
back and forth in wonder. “I want to know, why would
someone do this?”
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“G od’s wounds.” Aaron breathed a sigh of wonder as he

stepped into the ballroom.

There was not an inch of the hall that was not decorated.
Warm summer blooms had been brought into the house,
trailing along the white stone archways and pillars that
bordered either side of the room, with dark purple wisteria
petals and long green leaves, interspersed with white roses.
Every now and then amongst the greenery candles were
discretely placed, complimenting the candle chandeliers that
hung down from the ceiling.

“Mother, I think you have outdone yourself,” he called

ahead into the ballroom.

The room was abuzz with activity. As footmen bustled

around Joyce, asking where to place all the crystalware, she
turned her head, looking for Aaron.
“You like it?” she asked, extricating herself from the staff
and hurrying to his side. “It has taken so much planning and
organizing. I understand why your father is so loathed to
hold events such as these. So much effort goes into them.”

“Why are we holding this ball exactly?” Aaron asked as he

looked around the ballroom. The tables were lined with white
and embroidered cloths, where the staff were currently
placing out the crystal and silver ware.

“For you.”

“For me?” Aaron jerked his head back toward his mother,
cricking his neck from the suddenness of the movement.

“For you and Hugh.”

“Ah, I see.” Aaron placed his hands in his pockets, feeling he

knew what was about to happen. “Father is to toast Hugh’s
and Jane’s betrothal tonight, is he not?”

“Yes.” Joyce looked discomforted as she spoke, fidgeting

with her hands.
“Mother, you do not need to tiptoe around me.” Aaron
rested a hand on his mother’s shoulder, trying to bring her
comfort. “I am quite at ease with the idea, and I will lift my
hand to toast them with the rest of the guests tonight.”

“I am pleased,” Joyce said with a sigh. “Your father wishes

to make a second toast tonight. To you and your future.”

“My future.” Aaron could not stop the smile that overtook
his features. “On that note, there is something I wish to ask
you. I need your advice.”

“Ask away.” Joyce encouraged with a wave of her hand. “But

may we speak and walk, dear? The maids are in need of my
attention with the flower arrangement.”

“You have more flowers coming?” Aaron asked in wonder,

following her around the room. “It’s a wonder there is
anything left in the garden and the hot house from how
much is in here.” As he spoke, some maids hurried in,
carrying tall vases of flowers with them. Some were bursting
with more white roses, but there was one particular vase
blooming with red roses. Aaron found himself lifting one of
the blooms out of the vase and lifting it to his nose, inhaling
the scent.

They will always remind me of Emily now.

“Aaron? You seem somewhat distracted,” Joyce’s teasing
words made him look up from the rose and lower it in his
grasp. “Did your thoughts wander elsewhere? Perhaps to a
certain lady?” Joyce took one of the vases from the maid’s
hands and placed it in the middle of one of the tables, behind
a circle of tall crystal glasses.

“They did,” Aaron confessed, stepping up to the other side

of the table and catching his mother’s gaze. He was ready to
ask his mother’s advice. “I was thinking of asking Lady
Emily to marry me.”

Joyce knocked over the vase of flowers. There was a bustle of

the maids who ran forward to catch the vase, narrowly
stopping it from knocking over the crystal glasses around it.

“You are?” Joyce asked.

Even as he said the words, Aaron felt a new smile take up

place on his face. He could picture the wedding day, standing
at the altar as Emily walked toward him, carrying a bouquet
with a few red roses hidden within. He could envisage the
way she would smile up at him and the jests she would
whisper in his ear as their congregation sang their hymns. At
the end of the service, he would take a kiss, sealing their
marriage.
It was the perfect wedding, something he had thought for so
long was out of his reach, but it was there at last. How he
wanted to make it a reality.

“I am. What do you think?” Aaron asked. “I know it is fast,

but I feel it is so right.”

“Oh, Aaron.” Joyce hurried round the table, leaving the

maids to fluster even more to try and take the vase from her,
but they eventually did, leaving her free to throw her arms
around Aaron’s waist. He laughed as he embraced his
mother, holding the rose behind her back to keep the bloom
out of harm’s way.

“May I guess you think it a good thing then?” he teased her,

receiving a warm laugh somewhere in the middle of his
chest.

“I am thrilled,” she gushed as she stepped back again,

crying tears of happiness. She lifted her fingers to dry those
tears, talking very fast. “Now your father will have two
betrothed sons to toast tonight.”

“Wait, mother, I have not asked Emily yet. Let us see if she
says yes first.” Yet the memory of the way Emily had kissed
him gave him good reason to hope. She had kissed him so
sweetly with such barely restrained passion that he struggled
to keep his imagination at bay these days. He knew what he
wanted. I want to spend my life with her.

“I am sure she will say yes,” Joyce said as she dried more
tears. Then her eyes flicked behind Aaron, as if noticing
someone for the first time. “Hugh! Hugh, have you heard the
good news?”

Aaron stiffened and slowly turned round, startled to see that

they were not alone with the maids as he had thought. Hugh
was standing behind him, with Jane at his side, both wearing
such astonished looks that they did not utter any words at
all. Hugh’s jaw had dropped nearly as far as the floor and his
posture was somewhat slumped. Jane’s eyes unblinkingly
stared at Aaron, with her lips opening and closing, clearly
searching for words that would not come.

“You have come to help me with the preparations for the

ball? Hugh?” Joyce stepped forward, practically elbowing
Hugh in the waist to make him speak.

“Did I hear that right?” he asked, his voice strained, looking

squarely at Aaron, and practically ignoring their mother’s
latest words. “You are going to ask Lady Emily to marry
you?”

“I am.” Aaron turned away, making a pretense of helping

the maids with the vases of flowers.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Joyce was speaking to Hugh and Jane
alone. “You will all be wed, all ready to start families of your
own.”

“Wait, mother, it is not cause for cheer yet.” Hugh’s voice

made Aaron stiffen, though he purposely busied himself with
rearranging some of the crystalware, needing to focus on
anything other than Hugh’s voice.

“Yes, I agree.” Jane was the next to speak. She hurried

forward, moving to Aaron’s side and pulling on his arm to
get her attention.

“Yes?” he said, trying to tear his arm out of her grasp but
she would not let it happen.

“Aaron, I must speak to you openly,” she said quietly. It was

the last thing he wanted. He could remember a time when he
thought he would tell Jane anything, indulge in his most
private thoughts with her, but that time was long past.
Looking at her now, he was startled to feel that whatever she
had to say, he had little interest in hearing.

“If it is to object to my intentions, then I have no wish to

hear it.” This time Aaron managed to tear his arm out of her
grasp, as he walked around the table, trying to put distance
between them.

Joyce hurried off, called to attention by some of the footmen,

but neither Hugh nor Jane was so distracted. Hugh joined
Jane by the table, staring across the flowers and crystalware
straight at Aaron.

“Are you certain of this?” Hugh asked, his scowl so deep that
thick lines formed in his brow.

“Perfectly certain.” Aaron returned the red rose to the

bunch. He would gather one later to give to Emily.

“Please, Aaron, let us discuss this openly,” Jane murmured

softly. She held a sweet tone as she looked up to him, almost
batting her eyelashes in his direction.

There was a time I would have fallen at her feet with that look.
Not now.

“What do you wish to discuss?” Aaron asked, looking

between the two of them.
“It is not wise to rush into a decision like this,” Jane said,
shaking her head. “Is it, Hugh?”

“No, Jane is right.” Hugh seconded her opinion, leaning on

the table that separated Aaron from the two of them.

“I am not rushing into anything. I am doing this because it

feels right. I do not wish to discuss the topic any further with
the two of you.” Aaron turned to walk away, but he only
managed two steps before his brother was speaking again.

“How can you say such a thing?” His sudden loud voice
made Aaron freeze and look around the staff. He would not
allow his mother to be embarrassed by the two of them
arguing so loudly in front of others, so he was forced to turn
back and walk to the table again, urging Hugh to lower his
voice with a wave of his hand. “I am your family. Who else
can discuss this with you?”

“You do not act like my family, so why should I treat you as

such? Emily told me what you said to her the day she came
for tea with our mother. You couldn’t even remember her
name,” Aaron practically spat with the words he was so mad.
“You have not taken an interest in my life for months, Hugh.
Do not pretend to do so now.”

“You are not rushing into marriage then in the hope to make
us feel guilty?” Hugh’s words made a deadening silence drop
between the three of them. Aaron stood straight, feeling his
spine go rigid.

“Hugh,” Jane murmured after the silence stretched out for

what felt like a full minute. “We should not say such things.”

“It is true though, isn’t it?” Hugh asked, addressing her

alone. “He is still so angry at the two of us, all he is doing
this for is to make us feel guilty.”

“How little you know me, brother.” Aaron scoffed, shaking

his head. “You two can run off to Gretna Green and marry
tomorrow for all I care.”

“Aaron! How can you say such a thing?” Jane’s words made
both Aaron and Hugh snap their gazes toward her.

“Quite easily,” Aaron shrugged, as if it was no big deal to

him. It is the truth now. I do not care anymore. “If I wish to ask
Emily to marry me, then that is my business, it is neither of
yours.”

With these final words he turned away, aware that behind

him he seemed to leave an argument, with Hugh trying to
call after him to stop him from leaving and Jane urging him
to be quiet.
Aaron could not bear it. Enough was enough. Hugh had gone
behind his back to secure Jane’s affections in the first place,
now Hugh had the audacity to accuse Aaron of manipulating
the situation for his own ends.

“They think everything revolves around them,” Aaron

muttered to himself as he hurried out of the ballroom. “That
ends today.” He was quite convinced of his future. Maybe his
relationship with his brother could never be mended by this
point, but that was not what he needed for his happiness.
What he needed was Emily, and the warmth that her family
offered.

“Aaron?” Jane was calling after him.

Aaron did not stop at first, he walked all the way through the
house and out onto the drive before she managed to catch up
with him. Aaron was reaching toward a horse that awaited
him, ready to ride home to change for the ball when Jane
reached his side.

“Please, Aaron, tarry for one more minute. I must say

something to you.” Jane reached out a hand toward him, but
Aaron stepped back, refusing to let her touch him. She let her
hand fall between them before she looked up into his eyes
again.
“I know you may not forgive me for the past, but please,
Aaron. Let me not suffer the pain of seeing you rush into a
marriage too fast. It is for life. You will be committing
yourself to a woman you barely know.”

“Barely know?” Aaron repeated, turning to face Jane fully.

“That shows how little you have known me recently, Jane. It
may have been only a matter of months since I met Emily,
but I know her better than any other woman alive.”

“Not every woman,” Jane muttered, folding her arms. “We

grew up together, Aaron.”

“And we grew into very different people to those I thought

we had become.” He turned away from her and pulled
himself up into the saddle of the house. “I thank you for your
concern, but it is misplaced. Good day, Jane, you need not
worry yourself with me again.”

Before she could say anymore, Aaron dug his heels into the
horse’s sides and urged him forward. At once the steed leapt
to his bidding and rode him home. Aaron did not think of the
conversation with Jane and Hugh his whole ride home,
instead, he rehearsed what he was going to say to Emily. How
do I ask her to marry me?
Emily stared down at the box that had been delivered,
breathing deeply and feeling her hands begin to quiver. It
had only just arrived and feeling incapable of opening it in
front of others, she had hurried to her own chamber and
hidden herself there, to open the box alone.

“Please,” she whispered into the air. “Do not let it happen
again.”

Trying her best to quell her shaking fingers, she reached

forward and lifted the lid off the dress box. The tissue paper
beneath was intact, leaving her to slide it back and reveal a
perfectly made gown.

“Thank the lord.” She released a breath she had not realized
she had been holding as she lifted the gown from the box.

It was just as it should have been. The white material inlaid

with red embroidery, creating small birds dancing across a
meadow of flowers. It was a stunning dress, leading her to
hold the gown against her body and turn to face the nearest
mirror, holding it up.

“I still do not understand.” Even as she lowered the dress

back down onto the bed, relieved the modiste had managed
to produce another in time for the ball, something bothered
her. How was the last one cut up?
Julia had been right. No modiste would do this to her own
work and Emily barely even knew the woman. It would not
make sense for the modiste to do this. The only conclusion
was that the dress had been harmed whilst it sat in the shop
and awaited its collection by Emily’s maid.

So many ladies had been in and out of that modiste the last
week in preparation for the ball that it did not slim down the
number of suspects. What was more, enough ladies were
escorted to the modiste by gentlemen, that Emily could not
even be certain it was a lady.

For one awful minute as she sat on the bed beside the newly
made dress, pulling it into her lap, she remembered the way
she had been greeted at the Duke of Parson’s house by his
youngest son, Lord Hugh.

“When I heard my brother was to court a young lady, you are just
not what I pictured.”

Lord Hugh’s words created a sting, deep within her chest. It

was just possible that Lord Hugh could have had the
opportunity to harm the dress. He may have escorted his
betrothed or even his mother to the modiste shop. If he had
found Emily’s dress box there, with her name pinned to the
lid so easy to read, he may have taken the opportunity to
destroy it whilst the modiste was busy with a fitting.
“Why though?” Emily could not understand it. Maybe Hugh
didn’t want his brother to be happy, and that was why he
was intent on driving Emily away.

“My Lady?” a voice called from the door followed by a soft

tap.

“Come in, Helena,” Emily called, recognizing her maid’s

voice.

“Ah, I see the dress has arrived. Thank goodness for that.”
Helena scurried forward, admiring the dress before she
turned to Emily with a letter she proffered. “I’ll return soon
to help you dress, but I thought I should deliver this now. It
just arrived at the door. The messenger didn’t leave a name
of the sender.”

“Thank you.” Emily affected a smile and waited for Helena

to hurry out of the room again. The moment she was gone,
that smile vanished, and Emily turned her focus down to the
letter. It was the same handwriting, with the ostentatiously
curved f’s and s’.

“Not again,” Emily whispered, already knowing the truth of

the matter. She tore open the letter, feeling the red wax seal
crumble into shards in her lap before unfolding the letter.
There was barely anything to this latest note, just the
smallest of lines, which appeared to have been written in a
hurry judging by the slanting of the scrawl and how it was a
little untidier than usual.

‘End your courtship tonight at the ball. I will not issue another
warning. This is the last of them. Beware of what is to follow if
you do not end things tonight.’
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“T here you are,” Aaron declared as he stepped forward,

finding Emily at last. He had lost track of just how
many people he had greeted at the ball that night, for he had
searched each face with eagerness to find Emily.

She was stunning, in a white gown inlaid with red

embroidery that had Aaron’s eyes wandering. It was a bolder
gown than she usually wore, and Aaron loved it.

“Here I am,” she said with a playful smile on her lips. Aaron
momentarily forgot to greet her family and took her hand,
lifting it eagerly to his lips to kiss the back. The way the tops
of her cheeks blushed at the kiss made something in his
chest warm.

I will ask her tonight.

“Do you think either of them can see us now?” Lord Bolton’s
voice made Aaron and Emily turn to face the family at last.

“Barely,” Emily answered, pulling a laugh from them all.

“You’re all very welcome tonight,” Aaron said before he

went round the family and greeted them all in turn. He was
careful to tell Lady Dowding how he had ensured her favorite
cake was on offer that night, and he even told Lord Dowding
he had stocked his favorite brand of port.

“Good lord, it seems everyone is here tonight,” Lady Grace

murmured in awe as she stepped forward on her brother’s
arm, looking over the people that were gathered.

“I reckon you are right. My mother was quite determined to

invite everyone of her acquaintance.” Aaron shook his head,
marveling too at just how busy the place was.

“There is barely room to dance!” Lady Bolton said,

practically whistling at the sight before her. “You promised
me a dance tonight, remember Arthur?” she asked, turning
to her husband.

“We’ll barely fit on that floor.” He shook his head too,

gesturing to where couples were already gathered.
Aaron turned his eyes on Emily, seeing the way she had been
staring at him throughout this conversation made him
certain of what he was going to do next. He was determined
that she would enjoy every part of the night, so, he offered
his hand to her.

“Care to brave the busy dancefloor with me, Emily?” he

asked. In answer, she placed her hand in his.

“Come on, leave the courting couple to their time together,”

Lord Dowding said as he beckoned his family away. “Though
I hope you will be there later, Lord Tattershall, for our usual
riddles.”

“You can depend upon it,” Aaron nodded his head in Lord
Dowding’s direction before leading Emily toward the
dancefloor.

They took a few steps away from the family before she subtly
pulled on his hand, urging him to stop. He turned his gaze
on her, noting the way her bold smile faltered. At that look,
he adjusted his hold upon her, so that his fingers entwined
with hers.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

“I received another letter,” she whispered, clearly using
their time alone to tell him of the secret.

“Another? I hope you burnt it.”

“Not yet.” She shook her head, defiantly. “It said this was
my last warning, that I had to end our courtship tonight or
else.”

Aaron gripped her hand harder.

“Emily, please tell me you are not going to end this –”

“Of course not!” she said quickly, making him sigh with
relief. Fear had struck him so hard at the thought of losing
her, it only made him more determined that what he wished
to do tonight was right. Once they were married, he would
not lose her. “I just wanted you to know.”

He lifted their connected hands to his lips again, but decided

to steal a private moment, whilst all the guests were busy
with their own conversations. He turned her hand over,
pulling the fingers back to reveal her wrist and kissed the
exposed skin there. It was quick and fleeting, to prevent
anyone seeing them, but it had the effect he so desired,
making Emily smile up at him again.
“We will not be cowed by whoever wrote that letter, will
we?” he asked with a soft deep voice. She seemed to respond
to his tone, practically shivering with delight as she took a
breath.

“I quite agree.”

“Thank god for that.” He looped her hand through his arm
as he led her across the ballroom. “Then come with me. I am
determined to see you smile as much as possible tonight.”

“You are?” she asked in surprise. “That is hardly a great

challenge when you can so easily make me smile.”

“Ha! Maybe not to your mind. I would still do anything to see

it happen though.” He turned her toward the dancefloor just
as the violinists were finishing their first tune of the night.
As they struck up their second, he led her onto the floor and
took up their places in the middle, never releasing her hand,
even as they bowed and curtsied to her. “I intend to start by
asking you to dance many times tonight.”

“Ask me to dance three times and you’ll start your guests

whispering, Aaron. They will think we are betrothed.”

“Then I’ll let them whisper.” His playful words were uttered
as he took hold of her, ready for the waltz to begin. With his
hand resting on her waist and his other hand in hers, he
could feel the way she had flinched in surprise, then her
palm had warmed in his grasp.

“I have a feeling you are setting something of a riddle for

me, Aaron,” she said quietly with a small smile. “Care to
give me another clue as to what you are intending tonight?”

“Perhaps there is one other clue for this riddle I can offer.”
As he led her into the dance, he drew her closer, whispering
in her ear. “I have a question I wish to ask you later tonight.”

“A question? Are we talking of a simple question, such as

where shall we go this week, Somerset House, or the Tower
of London? Or is it something much more important than
that?”

He laughed at her jest before turning her around one more

time.

“Something much more important.”

Aaron stepped away across the ballroom, having to bend his

head to bow beneath some of the lowest hanging decorations
and avoid colliding with them. It was a busy room, leading
him to circle the dancefloor, squeezing past young couples
that were waiting to take their place in the next dance.

Remembering how Emily had felt in his arms as he danced,

Aaron smiled. He knew it would not be long before he invited
her back to that dancefloor this evening. He was certain to
set tongues gossiping then, to dance with her so many times
in one evening.

When he reached the drinks table and began to pour them

punch, he grew aware of a shadow moving over the punch
bowl, blocking out some of the candlelight.

“Aaron?” Jane’s voice made him still with the punch and lift
his head from the glasses to meet her gaze.

“It is probably best if you call me Lord Tattershall these

days, Miss Drew.” The formality felt necessary to him.
Addressing her as ‘Jane’ reminded him of times past. That
was a part of his life he did not wish to revisit after all.

Jane’s eyes widened as she stepped closer to him, startled by

his request.

“After all that passed between us, you really wish for such a
formality?” she asked quietly.
“I think it best, do you not?” he asked, dumbfounded by her
surprise.

“We are too close for that,” she insisted.

“We once were. That was a long time ago.” He dismissed the
idea, turning his focus back down to the punch glasses in
front of him and pouring them out from the silver and
enameled ladle placed in the punch bowl.

“As you wish,” Jane murmured, hanging her head a little. “I

need to speak to you.”

“Now?” Aaron queried, his brow furrowing. “It is not the

best time. My father will be making his toast to you and my
brother soon, and I wish to return to Emily’s side.”

“It is important, Aaron.”

“Lord Tattershall,” he repeated his title through gritted

teeth, waiting for her to utter the words, but she did not. She
just kept staring at him, never correcting herself.

“It’s about Hugh,” she whispered, glancing over her

shoulder at the other guests, as if nervous of being
overheard. “It’s important. If you love him at all, surely you
would not deny me this now. Please, let us speak.”

Aaron felt something curdle in his chest as he lifted one of

the punch glasses to his lips and took a small sip. Of course,
he still loved his brother, he always had done, it is just that
love had been smothered by resentment and the callousness
of Hugh’s words over the last few months.

“As you wish,” Aaron gave way and turned to face Jane
properly. “Speak as you wish to.”

“Not here.” She shook her head. “Come, follow me. We must
be somewhere private.”

“Private?” Aaron did not like the idea. His gaze flicked
toward Emily and her family on the other side of the
ballroom, his thoughts moving quickly. She was gathered
with her brother and his wife, the three of them laughing
warmly about something. He longed to be a part of the joke
and return to her side. Soon!

“Aaron? Please.” Jane was insistent. Aaron thought of

correcting her again, demanding that she use his title
instead of his name, but he figured it was best to get this
conversation over and done with as soon as possible, then he
could return to Emily’s side.
“Fine, I am coming, but at least bring a maid to ensure we
are not alone for this conversation. I will only let privacy
stretch so far.”

“As you wish,” Jane murmured softly. She retrieved a maid

from the side of the room, and he followed the two of them,
traipsing out of the ballroom and along the nearest corridor
where Jane led them through the garden door that opened
onto the terrace.

Aaron stepped out, feeling the frigid wind of the evening

take hold of him. It bristled across his hair and his cheeks,
just as the door was closed behind him by the maid. Jane
stood in the middle of the terrace with her figure bathed in
moonlight as she looked back to him.

“So?” Aaron said, trying to urge her on. “What is so

important that we have to come outside at this time of
night?”

“I will tell you all.” Her words were strangely fierce as she
stepped toward him.

“Lady Emily?”
The voice made Emily frown a little as she turned round to
greet the person addressing her name. She recognized it
instantly – Lord Hugh. With Julia at her side, she linked
arms with her, finding she needed that support of a friend
when looking at a man who so obviously disliked her.

“Lord Hugh, how are you?” she said politely and offered a
curtsy. He hurriedly bowed to her, though he did not respond
to the words. There was something off in his expression,
something that suggested concern. “Have you met my
sister-in-law? This is Lady Bolton.”

“A pleasure to meet you, my Lord.” Julia curtsied to him

with her words. Lord Hugh was careful to bow back, perhaps
a little deeper than he had done for Emily, but his eyes
returned quickly to her. He still said nothing, with the
muscles in his jaw strangely taut.

“Is something wrong?” Emily asked, not wishing to waste

time.

“I do not know.” Hugh glanced over his shoulder, searching

the crowded guests’ heads before he looked back to Emily.
“Has my brother spoken to you this evening?”

“Yes,” Emily narrowed her eyes with the words, wondering

where Lord Hugh was going with this conversation. “We
have spent much of the evening together.”
“What did you speak about?”

“If I am to repeat every conversation I have with your

brother, we shall be here all evening,” Emily’s jest brought a
small smile to Julia’s cheeks beside her, but Lord Hugh was
clearly not humored. He took another step toward her, his
manner frantic.

“Has he spoken to you about anything particular?”

“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you.” Emily

shook her head. “Besides, what I discuss with your brother is
my business only, my Lord. It is no other’s matter.” Her
words did not please him. He ran a hand across his waxed
hair with frustration before looking back to her again.

“I must speak to him. Have you seen him?” Lord Hugh

asked.

“He went to fetch us some drinks.” Emily lifted a hand to

point in the direction of the punch table, but to her surprise,
Aaron was no longer there. Other guests were crowded
around the tables and Aaron was nowhere to be seen.
“I thought I saw him leave the room,” Julia said slowly. “I
may have been mistaken, but I thought he went to get some
air.”

“Thank you,” Lord Hugh bowed his head to the two of them
and walked away, clearly intent on following his brother.

“How odd,” Julia murmured to Emily. Emily moved forward,

suddenly desirous of following Lord Hugh. “Where are you
going?”

“To see where Aaron has gone,” Emily said distractedly. She
walked through the ballroom with Julia following closely
behind her.

It was difficult, with Emily having to squeeze her way around

some of the groups of guests, moving past them all and
trying not to be caught in conversation. More than one
person tried to stop her, attempting to ask her about Aaron
and commenting on her recent closeness with the Marquess
of Tattershall. She extricated herself from them all as quickly
as she could.

As they reached the door of the ballroom, they caught Lord

Hugh up who looked at them, questioningly.
“I need to speak to my brother alone, Lady Emily,” he said
warningly, but she was not cowed by his words.

“As do I need to speak to him too.” She pushed through the

door before he could and stepped out into the corridor,
determined not to be left behind. When she reached the
garden terrace door, she was aware of Julia speaking, trying
to calm down the tense and awkward exchange between
Emily and Lord Hugh.

“I am sure there is plenty of time tonight for you to both

speak to Lord Tattershall. This is a joyous event, is it not? No
need for any worry.” Julia’s words faded into the distance
though as Emily pushed open the garden door.

She stumbled to a stop on the paving, feeling Lord Hugh do

the same beside her, just as a sight came into view.

She had found Aaron at last, only he was not alone. A maid
was standing at the edge of the terraced garden, with her
gaze turned away. In the middle of the terrace, Aaron was
with someone. He was with Miss Drew, with her arms
wrapped around his neck, locked in a passionate embrace,
and a kiss.
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

E mily could not blink. She was too busy staring at the
sight before her, of Miss Drew’s arms around Aaron and
their lips pressed together. Aaron was jerking backward as he
saw the others on the terrace. He shoved Miss Drew hard,
pushing her away and breaking their connection.

“How could you!?” Lord Hugh practically roared the words,

directing them purely at Aaron.

Emily felt her hands shaking as she stared at Aaron, barely

understanding what had happened herself. He was kissing
her… He crept outside of the ball to kiss her. Oh, my Lord…

Every book Emily had ever read that talked of heartbreak

flashed in her mind. Even the description the author had
given on the Captain’s and Elizabeth’s separation from each
other could not compare to this moment. It felt like her heart
was wizened and shriveling up fast, like an old, dried piece of
fruit.
“No…” she said breathily, still scarcely able to understand it.

Aaron did not reply to his brother. Instead, he turned his

gaze straight to Emily.

“It’s not how it looks,” he spoke with a kind of desperation

and stepped forward.

“Really? That is what you are going to say?” she muttered in

amazement. “There is no other way this can possibly be
interpreted.”

“You kissed her!” Lord Hugh was furious. “You kissed my

betrothed, Aaron. How long will it take you to understand
that she does not want you. That Jane wants nothing to do
with you.”

Emily flicked her gaze to Jane. She was not so sure about
Lord Hugh’s words. To Emily’s mind, Jane had been as
involved in that kiss as Aaron had been.

“Emily, please listen – what are you doing?” Aaron had tried
to reach Emily, but Lord Hugh stepped in the way, blocking
off his path.
“I cannot believe you,” Lord Hugh muttered, advancing
forward, and forcing Aaron to step back. “Don’t you know
brothers should be happy for each other’s happiness? Yet
you never could be, could you? You were always so jealous.”

“Me? Jealous?” Aaron gestured to his chest, looking baffled.

Emily could not handle it. Her mind was a whir with
thoughts, each one blending into the next in horrid
realization. He was never truly over Miss Drew. She was always
there, in his heart, she had to be. Despite everything. Then… what
do I mean to him?

She had been so certain he was hinting that he wanted to

propose to her, now she was unsure about everything.
Clearly, she had misinterpreted him.

Was our courtship all just to make Miss Drew jealous? All leading
to this moment of a reunion between them?

Emily flitted her eyes to Miss Drew, watching her actions.

She was stepping away from the brothers and coming to
stand by Emily’s side, but Julia stepped between them,
blocking her off.
“Jane was right.” Lord Hugh was in his element, his words
so filled with rage and volume that Emily thought it a
wonder people could not hear him from the ballroom. “You
were always jealous of me, weren’t you? You were so
desperate to ensure I wouldn’t be happy, that you would
actually stoop as low as to do this.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Aaron asked,

shaking his head so fast back and forth, he had to be cricking
his neck. “Will you let me talk for one minute, Hugh –”

“Talk? So that you can do what? Spin this round to make you
look like you are in the right? That is not possible right
now.” Lord Hugh advanced toward him again, but this time
Aaron did not back up. He held his ground, staring down his
brother.

“If you would let me speak –”

“Ever since Jane told you we cared for each other, you have
gone out of your way to separate us, haven’t you?” Lord
Hugh’s words were accusing as he thrust a finger in Aaron’s
chest.

Emily stumbled back, finding a longing to escape.

Is that what this has all been about? The thought crushed her.
“You are not making sense to me.” Aaron snapped. “The
first I knew about you two caring for each other was when I
found you two together, that fateful night. She never told me
anything of it.”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you?”

“I am saying that!” Aaron barked the words. “As for what

you just saw, she kissed me.”

Emily wanted to believe it. The words broke through the mist
of sadness, longing to believe it was true. As all eyes turned
on Miss Drew though, looking for her to confirm it, the
atmosphere between them all began to shift.

“I cannot lie, Aaron,” Miss Drew said, fidgeting and sniffing,

as if she was warding off tears. She turned her body to face
Emily completely, addressing her alone. “It seems Aaron’s
heart will always belong to me, Lady Emily. He kissed me.”

“I did not!” Aaron was trying to reach Emily again.

The will to believe him was fading. How could she? She had
seen them kissing with her own eyes and before Aaron had
pushed Miss Drew off, there was a beat where they were
there together, kissing one another.

“Emily?” Aaron attempted to push round his brother, but

Lord Hugh held him back.

“I…” Emily stumbled back so far that she collided with the
wall of the house. Julia followed her, before taking her hand
and trying to prize her away from the scene.

“Come away, dearest,” Julia murmured softly.

“How could he?” Emily whispered.

“You are blind, Hugh.” Aaron was arguing with his brother,
the two practically locked hand in hand together, with a
physical fight inches away. “Can’t you see what your
betrothed has done to us? Can’t you see who she really is
now?”

“Julia,” Emily murmured. “Take me home.”

Julia did not need telling twice. She took Emily’s arm and
steered her back into the house.
“No. Emily!” Aaron was calling after her, but he could not
escape his brother and Emily had no wish to come back to
hear it all again.

I know the truth. I saw the truth.

As they hastened back into the building, Emily felt the

shaking take over her body. It was out of control – her body
was responding to the broken heart even before her mind
could catch up with what had happened.

As they moved back into the ballroom, the violin music

sounded louder than before, each laugh was more of a
witch’s cackle, like something out of Macbeth, each one
laughing at her misfortune.

“We need Arthur,” Emily managed to murmur. The memory

of seeing Aaron about to fight his own brother had seared
itself onto her mind. Even as Julia had hold of her, Emily
freed herself as soon as she caught sight of Arthur. He was
standing by the punch table, clearly retrieving drinks as she
approached him, hurrying forward. “Arthur!”

“Good lord, Emily. I’m right here, you do not have to shout it
–”
“Not now, Arthur.” Her voice was sharp, commanding his
attention. At once he lost his usual humored smile and
lowered his punch glass down to the table, looking between
Emily and Julia as she arrived at his side.

“What has happened?” he asked, his voice instantly grave.

“You need to stop him,” Emily spoke quickly.

“Stop who?”

“Aaron. I mean, Lord Tattershall.” She waved a hand toward

the door they had just walked through. I cannot call him Aaron
now. “He is about to fight his brother. You must stop it.”

“Why are they going to fight?” he asked, his gaze searching.

“Not now, Arthur. Just go and do it. They are on the garden
terrace.” Julia urged him forward with a shove in his arm. He
went at once, asking no more questions.

“Now, we need to find your father and get you home.” Julia
took Emily’s arm again, leading her through the crowded
guests. She found she was growing increasingly weak, unable
to lift her gaze to meet Julia’s as they walked. Instead, she
fixed her focus on walking, her eyes marking the bejeweled
slipper shoes she was wearing that kept appearing out of the
bottom of her gown.

“Could I really have been so deceived in him?” she

whispered, barely realizing she had said the words aloud
until Julia answered her.

“I do not know. No one who has seen you together could

doubt he has a strong affection for you.”

“Then explain what we just saw, Julia.” Emily’s words shook

with her fury. “Explain how he can be caught in such a
scandalous position with the very woman he once told me
his heart used to belong to.”

“Used to. You just said the words yourself.”

“Maybe that love is not as old as he claimed it was. Clearly it

is not.” Emily lifted her gaze at last, finding they were
nearing her family on the other side of the room. “Julia, I…”
She could not say the words. How could she confess that she
loved him now? How could she put into words that her heart
was cracked in two? Like chipped marble that had developed
a long crack through the center.
“I know, Emily, I know.” Julia took her arm tighter, urging
her not to have to explain herself, just as they reached the
family.

“Emily? Is something wrong?” Charity was the first to turn

her eyes on her daughter. She did not need telling something
was wrong, she could sense it. She put down her punch glass
straight away and took Emily’s other hand.

“Mama, I need to get out of here,” Emily whispered.

“What has happened?” Archibald was the next one there, his
manner and body so taut, he looked ready for a fight.

“I cannot explain it.” Emily shook her head and closed her
eyes, unable to utter the words. Yet with her closed eyes the
thought of what she had seen was back. It was dancing there
in the darkness, the sight of seeing Aaron kissing Miss Drew.
Her eyes shot open once again, dissipating the image. “I
need to go home.”

“Trust me,” Julia spoke up, looking between Archibald and

Charity. “We need to get her home. I can scarcely believe
what we have just seen.”

“Say no more. I will arrange it.” Archibald nodded with the

words and walked away, with purpose in his every step.
Charity did not ask what was wrong, but she took Emily away
from the middle of the ballroom. They walked to the very
edge of the floor, hovering by the door to the exit before she
embraced her daughter. Emily buried her head on her
mother’s shoulder, finding with desperation she needed that
comfort, yet somehow it broke her as well. Her mother’s
comforting embrace was the thing that tore down the last of
the walls she had built around herself, and tears came.

“Whoever has done this to you, Emily, I will not forgive

them for it,” Charity whispered, holding tightly onto her.
“My daughter should not be reduced to such tears.”

“How could he do it?” Emily murmured between her tears.

“Who? Who did what?” Charity asked, clearly addressing her

question to Julia at their side.

“I cannot tell them. You will have to tell them, Julia,” Emily
said, turning her head away. As a handkerchief was thrust in
front of her, she took it, using it to hide her face from the
people at the ball that were looking their way, than
bothering to dry her tears. What is the point in drying them?
More will come along to replace those I dry.

“In the carriage,” Julia said calmly. “I will tell you there.”
Emily drowned out the words of her family as Archibald
returned and arrangements were discussed. The carriage was
being brought round for the family, but a separate phaeton
carriage that belonged to the Duke of Parson would bring
Arthur home later, who could not leave at this moment, not
whilst he was needed.

Emily was too busy replaying what she had just seen. She
was comparing the feeling of Aaron’s kiss, with how he had
looked when he had kissed Jane. The two of them had fitted
well together, with Aaron’s dark handsome looks and tall
stature, beside Miss Drew’s fair-haired beauty and almost
equally tall frame. They fit. I do not fit Aaron.

“Time to go,” Charity murmured softly, urging Emily out of

the ballroom.

She eagerly trod the path out of the door and along the
driveway to the waiting carriage. Inside, lit by one candle
lantern, she sat between Charity and Julia, with Grace and
Archibald perched opposite. Once the carriage lurched
forward, Grace was the first to speak.

“Why did we have to leave like the fire of hell was at our
heels?” Grace asked in panic. “Pray, tell us what has
happened.”
“Well, it’s difficult to explain…” Julia fidgeted, clearly
struggling with the words. Emily knew she could not ask
Jane to speak of it for her, it was her task to do. She sniffed,
halting her tears momentarily as she lifted her gaze to her
family, ready to explain herself.

“It seems I was deceived in Lord Tattershall,” she said

succinctly, to which her father shook his head, sitting back
on the carriage bench.

“No, that I cannot believe, Emily. Any man can see he is

besotted with you.”

“Then he is either a good actor or we will all mistaken,

perhaps seeing what we just wished to see.” Emily explained
as she looked down at the handkerchief in her grasp. “Julia,
Lord Hugh and I found Lord Tattershall in the garden with
Miss Drew, Lord Hugh’s betrothed.”

“What were they doing?” Charity asked.

“Charity!” Archibald’s word was sharp, but Charity would

not back down.

“We must know. It is scandalous, yes, but we must know.”

She looked back to Emily again. “Go on, sweetheart.”
“They were kissing, mother.” Emily’s words had a collective
reaction on the carriage. Charity went off into a string of
curses and Grace’s jaw dropped so far it was in danger of
falling in her lap, meanwhile Archibald hung his head
forward, hiding his face in his hands.

“I do not want to believe it,” Archibald said, his words

muffled by his hands. “Lord Tattershall always seemed so
genuine to my mind.”

“Then we were all mistaken,” Emily declared, sniffing, and

trying to stop her tears for a short while. “This night is the
proof of it. The courtship between Lord Tattershall and
myself is over.”

As she uttered the words, a dark realization set in over her

shoulders.

Whoever wrote those letters has gotten what they wanted; they
just cannot have known this was how it would happen in the end.
 CHAPTER NINETEEN

“H ugh, stop!” Aaron barked the word but little good it

did. He had to duck down to avoid the blow that was
aimed by his brother. Hugh narrowly missed him, with his
fist skimming past Aaron’s hair before he could stand
straight, hurrying back again. “Hugh – stop this now. I will
not fight you over this.”

“It has been coming for ages, hasn’t it?” Hugh asked,
reaching forward, and trying to grab Aaron’s lapels.

“We have not fought since we were boys.” Aaron pushed

Hugh off. Aaron was both the taller and the stronger, but he
knew with the venom that was clearly lodged in Hugh’s chest
at this moment, he would take some beating in a fight. “I am
not fighting you now.”

“That is not your decision.” Hugh aimed another blow at

Aaron, but he was too slow. Aaron was able to vault over the
terraced garden wall behind him, landing on the lawn just a
foot beneath them. In the scramble as he turned back to look
out onto the terrace, he saw Jane’s expression standing a few
feet away from them.

Is she smiling?

She was. It was plain to see. She was smiling as she looked
between them, watching on.

“Are you enjoying this?” Aaron asked her, practically

shouting in her direction. For one awful minute, Aaron was
reminded of when he was but a boy, a memory that he had
lodged deep within him and forgotten all about.

He and Hugh had been playing out on the lawn with toy
soldiers when Jane had been brought round by her parents.
She had claimed to Hugh that Aaron had stolen one of his
soldiers. It was hours later before they realized Jane had had
the toy all the time.

“You did this all,” Aaron murmured in realization, pointing

straight at Jane. She lost her smile and affected an innocent
look, but he was not fooled.

When he had come out here to talk with her, the last thing he
had expected was the way she had advanced toward him,
saying that there would always be this bond between them,
despite what had happened. Aaron had denied it, explaining
that whatever he had once felt for Jane was gone, but she
would not have it. That is when she had reached up and
kissed him. He had been too shocked to push her off at first,
not until he realized they had an audience. Then he had
shoved her away.

“Aaron! Come back here.” Hugh was hurrying to the steps in

the terrace garden, trying to hurry down to the lawn. As he
reached the steps, Aaron clambered back over the wall,
determined to keep distance between them. “Stop this now.”

“You stop, you fool,” Aaron called back to him. “I am not

fighting my own brother over something this pathetic.”

“Pathetic? You kissed my betrothed!”

“She kissed me!”

“I reckon this was a tough time to walk into this

conversation.”

Oh no… Aaron turned around, recognizing the voice that had

entered at that moment. Lord Bolton was standing in the
doorway that led back to the house, his expression perfectly
grave, despite the humored words.
“Miss Drew, is it?” Lord Bolton asked, turning his gaze on
Jane. “And your maid?”

“Yes,” Jane said and affected a curtsy, with the maid closely
behind her.

“I think it best you both go inside.” Lord Bolton hurried the

two of them away.

“Aaron? Get back here.” Hugh was back on the terrace again,
advancing toward him.

Aaron held up his hands, trying to ward off Hugh like a wild
animal as he backed up.

“Hugh, I didn’t do anything wrong. She did it!”

“What kind of fool do you take me for?” Hugh asked,

reaching for him and trying to grab his jacket another time,
to pull him back for a strike.

“A great one indeed as you will not listen to me.” Aaron’s

words made Hugh’s face turn a darker shade of purple in the
moonlight. As Hugh wound his arm up to deliver a blow,
Lord Bolton appeared at their side.
“All right, that’s enough.” He easily took hold of the scruff
of Hugh’s jacket and jerked him backward. As tall as Aaron,
he was able to stop Hugh advancing anymore as he stood
between them.

“Step out of the way,” Hugh ordered. “This is between my

brother and me.”

“Wrong, I’m part of this now as Lady Emily is my sister,”

Lord Bolton said, folding his arms. These words made Hugh
pause, his gaze settling on Lord Bolton. “You,” Lord Bolton
looked back to Aaron. Aaron felt seared by that gaze, never
having seen his friend so serious or so irate. “I will deal with
in a minute. First, you,” he looked back to Hugh, “need to
calm down.”

“I will not.”

“How do you expect to resolve this with fists?” Lord Bolton

asked. “They don’t do much good for explanations.”

“I am not looking for an explanation. I am looking for

retribution.”
“What for?” Aaron asked wildly, spreading his arms open
wide. “She kissed me.”

“Is that true?” Lord Bolton asked, looking back to Aaron.

“On my life, Lord Bolton.” Aaron was careful to put enough

seriousness and somberness into his tone as he could
muster. “I would never do this.”

Lord Bolton looked him over before offering the smallest of

nods, seeming to believe him. Thank God for that!

“Explain more,” Lord Bolton urged and jerked his head in

Hugh’s direction. “If you expect your brother to believe you
before he tries again to hit you. I might not be able to hold
him off next time.”

“Hugh, please listen.” Aaron begged, walking to Lord

Bolton’s side to meet his brother’s gaze. “I think Jane has
been lying to the both of us.”

“How can you say that?” Hugh was not listening, still in his
rage. Aaron knew he had to cut through that rage, somehow.
“You said she told you of a conversation that we shared, one
where she told me the two of you cared for each other.”

“Yes. Enough of this.” Hugh was ready to advance forward

again when Aaron lifted his hands, palms out, in a pleading
gesture.

“Hugh, she never told me that. We had no such

conversation.” The words at last seemed to break through.
Hugh did not believe him, that was evident, but his body had
frozen, and his eyes had narrowed. At least he is listening now.
“Jane said she cared for me.” Aaron held a hand to his chest,
trying to make his meaning plain. “She even talked about
being my wife someday.”

“She did?” Hugh’s feathers were clearly ruffled as he took a

step back, horrified at the idea.

“Hugh, I thought she cared for me as I did her. The first I

knew that there was anything between you was the night I
caught you alone with her, in that particularly passionate
embrace you were sharing.” Aaron could remember it so
clearly; it was something much more intimate than what he
had just shared with Jane.

“She said you knew.” Hugh was insistent, even as Aaron

shook his head.
“I never did.” Aaron judged it safe to take another step
forward, closer to his brother. “When did you tell her you
cared for her?”

“Years ago.” Hugh’s words shook Aaron to the core. It

suggested that Jane had been holding onto a deception with
the two of them for a long time. “She always talked of
marrying me.”

“It sounds like this woman has manipulated the both of

you.” Lord Bolton’s simple words struck home, making
Aaron walk toward his brother again, taking Hugh’s shoulder
in his grasp.

“I think Lord Bolton is right, Hugh,” his quiet words made

Hugh shake beneath his touch.

“I don’t understand. Why would she do it? Why would she

tell each other such things?” Hugh asked, looking up to
Aaron with his face draining of color.

“Is she someone that takes pleasure in others’ pain?” Lord

Bolton’s question made them both look toward him. He was
stoic indeed with folded arms.

“No, I will not believe her capable of that.” Hugh shook his
head, insistently.
“Hugh, be serious,” Aaron spoke gently. “I didn’t think she
was, but as children, she was always setting us against each
other, wasn’t she? What of when she took our toy soldiers?”

“We were just boys.”

“We were.” Aaron agreed, when he recalled another

memory. “We were teenagers when she told me that you
kept scaring her and making her jump, weren’t we? She
encouraged me to go and argue with you, only for us to
discover you had done no such thing.”

“Perhaps she grew bored easily. It’s how she takes her
amusement in the world.” Lord Bolton’s words were making
such sense that Aaron found himself reaching for the low-
lying wall surrounding the terrace and sitting down. Hugh
sat beside him; the two brothers silent for a minute as the
truth washed over them.

“I am telling you the truth, Hugh,” Aaron muttered as gently

as he could. “Jane brought me out here. She asked to see me
and brought the maid too, who can confirm what happened
if you need to ask her. Jane claimed there would always be a
connection between us, and when I told her the truth, that I
feel nothing for her now, that I love Emily, she kissed me.”
Hugh hung his head forward, resting his elbows on his
knees. Aaron could see his brother believed him at last, even
as horrible as it was to acknowledge. Aaron rested his hand
on his brother’s back, offering the only support he could
give.

“I need to return home and look after my sister,” Lord

Bolton said taking a step back. “May I trust that you two will
not start fighting again?”

“I give you my word,” Hugh said slowly.

“Good.” Lord Bolton turned away, exchanging one slow nod

in parting with Aaron before he hovered at the door. “Before
I go, might I suggest you two talk through just about
everything this Miss Drew has done? The time is done for
confusion. Before anyone else ends up carrying a broken
heart with them.”

He left, closing the door behind him, and leaving Aaron

wincing. The sight of Emily’s pain and those tears she was
keeping at bay cut through him. I must speak to her. I have to
mend this. I will not let this be ruined. Not now!

“I think he is right.” Hugh was the first to speak as he sat

straight on the wall. “Let us talk through everything, see
where the inconsistencies lie. I do not like the idea I’ve
believed in lies for so long.”
“Neither do I.”

“How are you feeling?” Aaron asked as he woke his brother.

They had slept in the smallest parlor in the house after they
had talked into the early hours of the morning. Aaron was sat
in an armchair with his feet resting on a stool, whilst Hugh
was prostrate on a chesterfield settee, with a nearly empty
carafe of whisky beside him.

“I will indeed,” Hugh said with a sigh as he clutched his

head, clearly feeling the aftereffects of the alcohol.

“Feeling better about the world yet?” Aaron asked with a

grimace as his brother’s gaze met his.

“No.” Hugh shook his head, sitting up on the settee. The

conversation had been long and arduous. It took hours but
they had realized together just how many lies Jane had told
the two of them. “I can’t believe she so easily played me. I
believed everything she ever told me. She claimed you were
jealous, merely out to make the two of us miserable, and
that’s why you pursued her in the first place.”

“None of that is true.”

“I know that now,” Hugh cursed another time as he reached
for the whisky carafe before thinking the better of it and
pushing it away. “What do I do, Aaron? I said I’d marry her.”

“Do you still want to?” Aaron shuddered at the thought. The
mere idea of Hugh being beholden to someone who had
manipulated them both in such a way was crushing.

“No.” Hugh’s answer was simple but powerful. “I think I’ve

realized I’m betrothed to someone I don’t really know at all.
How can I marry her now? Then I have a problem, don’t I?
To break off our betrothal, it will be scandalous. It will drag
our names through the scandal sheets.”

“The question is which would you. A life spent married to a

woman who cheats you and lies to you? Or a few months
with your names in the scandal sheets?” Aaron asked as he
stood to his feet and rang a bell over the fireplace. They
would need their valets to help them tidy up after such a
heavy night of drinking.

“Put like that, you make it sound easy.” Hugh sighed as he

too stood to his feet. “I need to talk to her, don’t I?”

“First, let us clean up. We’re both in such a state she’ll run
away from either of us the way we are.”
“Would you come with me?”

“What?” Aaron jerked to a stop as Hugh held his gaze, with a

pleading look.

“She stayed here last night in the guest chambers. She will
be here somewhere. Come with me to see her. I think it’s
about time we both spoke to her honestly.”

“As you wish.”

It took them a while to get cleaned up and sorted by their

valets before they searched the house. They eventually found
Jane in the sitting room with their mother, with the two of
them bent over thank you notes they were to send out for the
ball the night before.

“Mother? Could you give us a minute with Miss Drew

please?” Aaron asked, watching as their mother looked up,
her body instantly tense.

“Is all well?” she asked nervously.

“It will be. Hugh needs to speak to her alone. I will
chaperone.”

“As you wish.” Still, Joyce looked nervous as she stood to her
feet and walked out of the room.

Hugh sat down beside Jane as Aaron made his way across the
room, determined to put some distance between them. Once
the door closed behind their mother, Jane was the first to
speak.

“What is going on? I do hope the two of you have calmed

down after your incident last night.” There was something in
her words that riled Aaron instantly. He looked back to her,
seeing there was a smile on her face, one she was trying her
best to flatten.

“You took amusement in seeing us fight like that, didn’t

you?” Aaron asked, slowly stepping back toward her. At
once, that smile vanished.

“How could you say such a thing, Aaron?” she wailed, as if

he had truly hurt her.

Aaron was about to turn away again, unprepared to put up

with anymore of her behavior when his eyes flicked down to
the thank you notes she had been working on and the
lettering. He snatched up one of the cards, noticing the way
she tried to snatch it back, but she was too slow.

“God’s wounds,” he muttered in realization, tracing the

familiar ‘f’s and s’. “You are the one who wrote all those foul
letters to Emily.”
 CHAPTER TWENTY

“W hat letters?” Hugh asked, before Jane could

possibly deny it.

Aaron dropped the thank you note back down to the coffee
table in front of Jane. There was no point in her arguing
against it. He knew he had seen that handwriting somewhere
before and here was the proof of it.

“What else has she done?” Hugh asked, his tone growing
wary indeed.

“Emily has been receiving horrid letters telling her to end

our courtship, threatening her too. Her reticule was cut up,
torn into shreds, and sent back to her. Even a gown of hers
was ripped, made by the modiste in Bond Street and
delivered to her like it.”
“Bond Street?” Hugh jerked backward on the settee before
turning his eyes on Jane. “Jane, I took you to Bond Street for
your dress fitting earlier in the week. I dropped you at the
door.”

She looked between the two of them, her eyes frantic.

“Surely you do not believe me capable of doing such a thing

as that?” She laughed off the idea before Aaron snatched the
card up again.

“Why do you bother denying it? This is the same

handwriting, Jane. You cannot escape this now. Why on earth
would you do something so cruel?” Aaron snapped the words
as he waved the note card in her direction. Her smile
vanished, replaced with such a harsh look, the kind he had
never seen in her face before. “Admit it.” He demanded; his
voice so sharp that she flinched on the settee.

“She isn’t right for you.”

“What?” he snapped at her. “You do not even know her.”

“It’s not the way it is supposed to go.”

“Jane,” Hugh spoke up, leaning toward her. “You are making
no sense.”

“I thought the letters would scare her off,” Jane said,

gesturing down at the quill beside her. “It wasn’t difficult. A
few letters, and I could not believe my luck when I saw that
box in the modiste shop with her name across the front. I
just wanted her gone, out of our lives.”

“Why?” Hugh asked wildly. “She had done nothing to you.”

“She was taking Aaron away,” she gestured madly in

Aaron’s direction.

“Why would you care when you were marrying me?” Hugh
asked, motioning to his chest.

“If he was married, what fun would there be left?” Jane

asked with a shrug. The truth settled on Aaron’s shoulders,
realizing just how right Lord Bolton had been with his
guesses the night before.

It is all for her amusement, playing with our hearts.

Aaron turned away, rubbing his hands across his face as he
gathered his thoughts.

“That’s what we are to you, aren’t we?” he asked, unable to

look back at her. “Pawns for your own amusement. Do you
really take so much fun in setting Hugh and I against each
other?”

He looked back to her at last, noting the way her face was
impassive.

“That is not how I would describe it, but…” Her words made
Hugh slowly stand to his feet, walking toward Aaron’s side.
It was a symbolic moment, with Hugh moving away from her
and coming to stand beside Aaron. “Where are you going?”
Jane asked, addressing Hugh alone.

“Away from you.”

“Why? We are to be married, aren’t we?”

“You expect me to marry you now?” Hugh asked in

amazement, looking back to her with a shaking head. “After
it is plain to see that you have lied to the both of us for years
on end, telling each of us you cared for us, all for what? Just
for you to take some twisted pleasure in seeing us become
enemies.”
“She must have been that bored with her own life to do
something like that.” Aaron leaned back on the nearest
windowsill, finding it was the furthest point at which he
could distance himself with Jane. Hugh perched beside him,
similarly, wanting the same distance.

“Tell me this, Jane,” Hugh paused, lifting his gaze to meet

hers. “Did you ever really care for either of us?”

“What?” She stood to her feet, so fast that she knocked the
coffee table in front of her and nearly sent all the thank you
cards flying. “Of course, I care for you. Both of you. You are
practically my family.”

“Jane, I was to be your family.” Hugh’s words were sobering

as Jane rounded the coffee table, hurrying toward the two of
them.

“Why are you talking in the past tense?” she cried, flicking
the blonde curls that had escaped her updo back across her
shoulder and offering a sweet smile. It was an attempt at
manipulation. “Hugh, darling, we are not going to let this
destroy what we share, are we?”

“Do not speak to me in that way anymore.” He leaned

further back toward the glass window behind them. His
words made that smile on her cheeks falter. “Did you love
me?”

“Hugh, I –”

“Did you ever love me?” Hugh demanded, cutting her off. “A
yes or no will suffice.”

She did not answer, not at first, before she attempted

another one of those smiles and tilted her head to the side.

“Of course, I love you, Hugh.”

“Oh, that was quite a delay,” Aaron pointed out, looking to

his brother. “I told Emily I loved her, and she cut me off in
her eagerness to tell me she loved me too.”

“She did?” Hugh asked, looking to Aaron with hope. It was

clearly what he had been hoping for, even expecting, but it
was not to be.

“If I was to place a wager on this matter, Hugh, I’d say that
Jane cares for you. After all, she chose to marry you after the
two of you were caught together.” Aaron kept his gaze on
Hugh as he spoke, not wanting to give Jane the satisfaction
of looking at her again. “But maybe all that she really loved
was the control and the manipulation of how you felt. How
often did she provoke you into being angry at me? How often
did she bring up the subject of me when you were courting?”

Hugh’s face said it all with the eyes widening in realization

before he jerked his head to look back at Jane.

“Hugh, surely you are not going to listen to him.” Jane

moved forward, reaching for Hugh’s hand, but he drew it out
of her reach. “You know what he is. We have been over this.
He is simply jealous of you; he doesn’t want us to be happy
together.”

“Then why did you kiss him?”

“I didn’t. He kissed me.”

“He did not.” Hugh shook his head. “We spoke to your maid,
Jane. She confirmed all that Aaron said.”

Jane stumbled away, clearly horrified that she had been

betrayed by her own maid. Aaron smiled for the first time. It
felt like a victory, as if Jane’s high and mighty position was
beginning to tumble a little. She did not look so sure of
herself now.
“Aaron?” She looked to him. The way she so quickly turned
her pleading attempt on him disgusted him.

“Don’t you dare try to be nice to me now.” His words made

her back up even more, until she was halfway across the
room.

“This is not how it was supposed to go,” she was muttering,

speaking more to herself than anyone else. “This is not fair.”

“I think it’s very fair indeed,” Aaron declared as he folded

his arms. “It’s a good job we discovered this all now, before
you married Hugh.”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked, her eyes on Hugh again.

“No, do not call off the wedding. My name will be ruined. My
reputation!”

“It will recover a little in time,” Hugh said, adopting a

coldness to his tone. “You have had what you wanted for
long enough, Jane. I have danced on your puppet strings
until now, I won’t’ do it anymore. The betrothal is off, and I
am more than happy to see my name dragged through the
mud of the scandal sheets just to avoid being married to
someone who would lie to me so.”
Jane had no words as she covered her mouth. The tears were
there, and they were evident to see, yet Aaron felt no pity.
Not after the discovery that she was behind all the letters to
Emily, how could he? She deserved any heartbreak coming to
her, though Aaron was not convinced she was capable of
suffering heartbreak at all. It implied she had a heart in the
first place.

Jane hurried out of the room, leaving the two brothers

together, listening to her distant wailing through the
corridors. Hugh bent down, resting his hands on his knees
and breathing deeply.

“That can’t have been easy,” Aaron said, taking his

brother’s shoulder comfortingly. “Well done.”

“Thank you. My turn is done. Now it is your turn?”

“My turn?” Aaron repeated.

“Are you going to go to Lady Emily?” Hugh asked, looking

up to meet Aaron’s gaze.

“My horse is waiting outside for me already.”

“Please, let me in to see Emily.” Aaron was pleading with the
butler, but it was getting him nowhere. The butler was
refusing to let him into the house.

“I have my orders, Lord Tattershall, they are clear to follow.

I am not to let you in under any circumstances.”

Aaron cursed under his breath, pushing the wet hair back
from his forehead. The heat of the summer months seemed
to be breaking and rain was come at last, yet it was pouring
it down. Within a few minutes of his ride, Aaron was soaked
to the bone. Now he was getting wetter still, standing on the
porch steps in front of the Dowding’s house and being
refused entry as fresh globules of water splattered his skin.

“Can I at least leave a message for her?” Aaron asked in

desperation.

“No.” The butler held the door only open a little, clearly
refusing Aaron entry. Aaron was debating barging the door
open to go in when he heard a voice he recognized. It
belonged to Lord Bolton.

“I’ll talk to him,” Lord Bolton said to the butler, quickly

replacing his position in the open door. Aaron took a step
forward with hope. “I am not sure this is the best time.”
“Please, Lord Bolton, I must speak to her. She needs to know
everything that really happened.”

Lord Bolton looked back into the house, as if hearing

someone coming. He took the decision to step out onto the
porch with Aaron and closed the door behind him.

“I believe you. After seeing what I saw last night, there is

little chance I could not.” He spoke plainly, breathing deeply.
“Yet I cannot persuade my mother to see it any other way.
She is as distraught as Emily is. Whenever I open my mouth
to defend you, my mother will have none of it. I fear we must
let things cool down before you try to see my sister.”

“No.” Aaron shook his head. He could not allow it. “She will
hate me for what happened. How can I let that go on? It is
not the truth, my Lord. I love your sister; I wouldn’t do
anything to hurt her.”

“I know that, but –” Lord Bolton was prevented from

answering as the door was opened. In the doorway Lady
Dowding stood, her gaze going straight to Aaron.

“Leave,” she demanded.

“Please, Lady Dowding, I must speak to your daughter.”

“I will not let her see you. Not now. You have hurt my
daughter enough, Lord Bolton. I won’t see her heart hurt
anymore.” The words cut Aaron deeply. How was he
supposed to mend the wound he had caused if he was never
allowed to see Emily again?

“Lord Tattershall, go.” Lord Bolton urged him back down the
porch steps, further out into the rain. “Today is not the day
to fight for her.”

Aaron accepted it with a reluctant nod as he moved back to

his horse, with his gaze constantly searching the windows
for any sign of Emily, but she was nowhere to be seen. In the
end, he made a decision as he climbed back into the saddle,
meeting the gaze of Lord Bolton and Lady Dowding in the
doorway of the house.

Maybe today is not the day to fight for her, but I’m not giving up
yet. I’m coming back.

Aaron stumbled into the house with his clothes soaked to the
bone. For some reason, he had felt unable to go home and
ended up at his parents’ house instead. As he walked into the
hallway, Jane passed him. She said nothing, only directed her
maid forward with a flick of her hand, carrying the bags for
her.
Aaron watched as she hurried out to the carriage that had
awaited her with a footman and a driver ready to take her
away.

“She’s leaving. For good.” Hugh’s words made Aaron turn

round to see his brother standing in the middle of the
staircase, with his arms folded. “She’s going home to her
parents. I have already written them a letter. I am not having
her tell them some lies about why the marriage has been
called off. I have told them the truth.”

“Good. They should know the truth.” As Aaron stumbled

further into the entrance hall, shaking some of the excess
water off the sleeves of his jacket, Hugh flicked his gaze to
him.

“What on earth happened to you?” he asked, hurrying down

the steps toward Aaron. “Havers! Bring a towel if you
would.” One of the nearby footmen was sent off in search of
a towel as Hugh steered him further into the house. “You’re
soaked.”

“I had noticed,” Aaron said wryly. “They wouldn’t let me

in.”

“What?” Hugh asked, his body recoiling at the idea.

“They refused to see me.” Aaron was startled by the way his
throat closed up. It was the first time he had been tempted to
cry in years. Feeling embarrassed in front of his brother for
it, the moment the footman returned with the towel, he
threw it over his face, making an appearance of drying his
hair, though in fact he was also trying to mask his eyes from
view. “They wouldn’t let me see her.”

How could I let this be so ruined?

“Aaron, I am so sorry.” Hugh steered him into the sitting

room and urged him to sit in a wooden chair they had, so not
to stain the furniture with the dampness on his clothes.
“Even Lady Emily wouldn’t see you?”

“I didn’t get anywhere near her,” Aaron said as he lowered

the towel from his face. “Lord Bolton said this wasn’t the
right day, though at least he believes me, but Lady Dowding
refused to let me in. She said I had hurt her daughter too
much.” The words made him veer forward, practically
leaning out of the chair.

He hated the thought that he had offended the family. They

were a family he cared so much for, and wanted to be his
own, yet they now thought he had betrayed them.

Emily.
She was the thought that crushed him the most. The pain
etched into her features when she had found him with Jane
kissing him; it was a look he was certain he would never
forget.

“She means everything, Hugh,” Aaron whispered carefully,

almost afraid to make the admission aloud to someone he
had not been close with for a good deal of time now.

“Good lord, you are besotted,” Hugh said, almost laughing.

“I am not laughing, Hugh. I have lost her.”

“I am not laughing at the situation, merely marveling at the

strength of your affection.” Hugh tried to explain himself as
he took a chair and sat opposite Aaron. “Were you honest
yesterday? When you said you wished to ask her to marry
you.”

“Completely honest,” Aaron said with sincerity as he met his

brother’s gaze. “She makes me happy, Hugh. Now look at
how things lie? Jane may have ruined my best change of
happiness in this world. If I get to see Emily again, I will
gladly fall to the ground on my knees and beg her
forgiveness, and pray that she believes the truth, but how
can I even get that far? They won’t let me see her.”
Silence stretched between them as Aaron focused on the
towel in his hands. He was breathing carefully, being certain
to keep the threat of tears at bay and not let it envelop him.
Eventually, the silence was broken by Hugh sitting back in
his chair, making it creak beneath him.

“I’ll talk to them.”

“What?” Aaron said, jerking his head up in surprise.

“Let me talk to them.” Hugh spoke with certainty. “I am the

reason this mess has occurred.”

“You are not. That blames rests on Jane’s shoulders.”

“Yes, but I was led around like a puppet by her for long
enough. If I was smarter, maybe I could have seen it sooner,
but I did not.” Hugh stood to his feet, his manner suggesting
determination had taken hold of him. “Tomorrow morning,
we shall go first thing in the carriage. You will wait inside
whilst I go in and plead for them to hear you out. Maybe I
can get you in through that door.”

“You would do that?” Aaron asked, trying to keep some of

the surprise out of his voice.
“It’s about time I did something to mend the past. Just you
wait before you let your heart break too much, brother. Let
us see what tomorrow brings.”
 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

E mily had the handkerchief bundled in her hands as she

read the book stretched out in her lap. The Captain and
Elizabeth were reaching the end of their tale, back on dry
land and separated from each other.

‘Elizabeth waited all day at the tavern window, but he did not
come. No matter how long she gazed upon the streets of the port
town, they remained firmly empty.

“Why do you sit there for so long, Elizabeth?” her father called to
her. She had a feeling he knew the truth deep down.

“I am waiting to see if I have placed my heart with the right man,

father.”

“Foolish girl,” her father spat as he turned away, snatching his

jacket and swagger stick from his valet before reaching for the
tavern room door. “I warned you not to give your heart to a man
like him.”

“It is not something we have a choice in father. It is not like we

choose to give our hearts away; they wander out of our chests at
their own free will. They find alone who they want to love.”’

Emily broke off, looking up from the book as another tear

slid down her cheek. Since the ball, she had intermittently
found herself crying, sometimes barely realizing when she
was.

It was moments like these that hurt the most, when she
knew how close she had come to being happy, only to have it
taken from her. She had a feeling Elizabeth was right in the
text. Emily had never chosen to give her heart to Aaron, yet
it had happened anyway. He had earned it until the ball,
where he had discarded it like used up paper.

Beyond the library walls she could hear movement in the

corridors, suggesting someone had come to call at the house,
but she took no notice. Her family had been very kind but
seeing so many happily married couples only reminded
Emily of what she thought she’d had. She was glad to retreat
to the library for a while and hide there, alone with her book.

‘Her father was soon gone, and Elizabeth was left alone in the
tavern room, with her maid asleep in the corner and one candle
beside Elizabeth to keep her company.

That is when she saw movement in the street up ahead. It was

sudden, with a figure there one minute then gone the next. She
moved her face closer to the glass before she realized just to whom
that shadow belonged.

“It is the Captain!” Elizabeth muttered as she jumped to her feet.

He was striding out toward the tavern, with his horse behind him,
still wearing his uniform. His gaze searched hers at the window
until he found her, and his face spread instantly into a smile.

Elizabeth returned that smile before she hurried away. She

grabbed her bag from beside the maid, being careful not to wake
her before hurrying out of the tavern, rushing to meet the Captain
in the street. He was there waiting for Elizabeth, reaching toward
her and taking her free hand to pull it to his lips, to offer one kiss.

“Gretna Green?” he asked, his voice barely containing his

excitement.

“Let us go now.”’

Emily broke off. than her heart being warmed by Elizabeth’s

happy ending, it broke even more.
“Some people have the ending they want,” she murmured,
closing up the book.

“I must see her.” A voice came from the corridor, making

Emily look up. She turned round in the seat, making herself
presentable, just as the door opened.

Lord Hugh was standing in the doorway, with Charity at his

side.

“Emily, I tried to stop him, but he was insistent on seeing

you.”

“Mama, it is fine.” Emily held up a hand to calm her

mother’s anger. He was as betrayed as she was at the ball,
she found she did not hold him ill will at this moment. “Lord
Hugh, how are you?” she asked, standing to her feet and
curtsying.

This time, he offered her a deep bow indeed, a sudden mark

of respect he had not really shown her before.

“I must speak openly to you, Lady Emily.” Lord Hugh

hurried to her side, speaking fast indeed. Charity stayed in
the room at all times, clearly acting not just as a chaperone
but a watcher, fearful for her daughter’s happiness.
“Then speak,” Emily encouraged him, knowing the sooner
this matter was concluded, the sooner Lord Hugh would
leave.

“What you and I saw at the ball was not the truth of the
matter.”

“I beg your pardon?” Emily asked, with disbelief. “You were

so furious at what we saw you tried to strike your brother,
Lord Hugh. You are now going to pretend it did not happen?”

“No, it did happen, but not as we thought it did.” Lord Hugh

ran his hands though his hair in apparent stress before
finding her gaze again. “I am going about this all wrong. Let
me start another way. I have ended my betrothal with Miss
Drew.”

“You have?” Emily found her attention had been captured

now.

“Aaron and I talked through everything, and we realized just

what went wrong between us. Miss Drew has manipulated
the two of us, for years on end, maybe even our whole lives.
She set us against each other, for nothing but her own
amusement.” He breathed deeply as he spoke. It was clear
for Emily to see he was genuine, suffering in pain as he
poured his heart out to her. “Seeing how she has lied to us
both, I have ended our betrothal, and Aaron and I agree that
we should keep her out of our lives. For good.”

“You mean… he does not wish to marry Miss Drew?”

“Marry her? Good god no, he cannot stand the sight of her.”
Lord Hugh stepped toward Emily with eagerness. “No man
could be more devoted to another. He is devoted to you, Lady
Emily.”

Emily was not sure what to believe. Lord Hugh seemed so

genuine, but he was here, and Aaron was not.

“Then why is he not here?” she asked softly.

“Because your mother would not let him see you yesterday.”

“What?” Emily looked sharply at her mother in surprise.

Charity shrugged, clearly, she had thought it the best thing.

“He is here with me now, waiting in the carriage and he is

desperate to see you,” Lord Hugh spoke fast. “Please, Lady
Emily. Speak to him.”
Emily looked between Lord Hugh and Charity for a minute.
She could see Charity was as lost as her, uncertain what to
think.

“Very well,” Emily said, chewing her lip with nerves. “I will
see him.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Lady Emily.” Hugh bowed

hurriedly and hastened from the room, leaving Emily and
Charity stood there together, exchanging questioning looks.

“Do you believe him?” Emily asked her mother.

“He seemed genuine. Do you?”

“He is a man hurting. I see no reason to disbelieve him.”

Emily paced for a minute, uncertain what to think and feel as
she waited for Aaron to arrive.

When his footsteps sounded at the doorway to the library,

she looked up, finding him walking in with his blue eyes
fixed to her. He was pale with deep shadows under his eyes,
suggesting he had barely slept at all.
“Lord Tattershall,” Charity was the first to greet him. Emily
followed, curtsying too.

“May I speak openly?” Aaron asked, looking between the

two of them.

“Please do,” Emily encouraged. The change was instant. He

discarded his top hat on the nearest chair and rounded
Charity, heading straight for Emily. He took her hands in his,
a gesture she had once loved that now made her nervous.
“Why are you here?” she whispered.

“Because Miss Drew kissed me, I did not kiss her.” Aaron
spoke with wide eyes, not blinking once as he held her gaze.
“She drew me into the garden saying we needed to speak
about Hugh. That was why I was there. Then she kissed me. I
was shocked and pushed her off, just as you arrived. If you
want the proof of it, then you can speak to her maid. She saw
it all! She can concur exactly what happened.”

“She can?” Emily asked, feeling a jolt of hope within her.

“Emily, there is much I need to tell you.” Aaron held tightly

onto her hands. “Hugh and I stayed up for most of the night
talking about what Miss Drew has done. It seems she has set
us against each other for years, telling each of us she cared
for us, all for her own amusement, simply to make us
enemies. Yet when I moved on, realizing that I did not love
her anymore, but loved you, she couldn’t stand it.”

Emily could not find words. That hope was beginning to

bloom and all she wanted was for Aaron to keep talking.

“She was determined for me to stay away from you. Simply

so that she could cause more trouble between Hugh and me.
She took a sadistic pleasure in it. She is the one who wrote
you those horrid letters.” The words cut deep, making
Emily’s lips part.

“The reticule? The gown?”

“All Miss Drew.” Aaron confirmed with a nod. “Hugh even

took her to Bond Street for her dress fitting with a modiste
this week. He confirmed dropping her at the door and I heard
it from Miss Drew’s own lips how she couldn’t believe her
luck when she saw your named pinned to the box.”

Emily could see it all so easily in her mind’s eye, the way
that Miss Drew would have pulled back the lid of that box
when the modiste was looking elsewhere and taken some of
the tailoring scissors off the side to cut the dress into shreds.

“We have sent her out of our lives and Hugh will no longer
marry her,” Aaron’s words brought her back to the moment.
“Please, Emily, I need you to know the truth of how I really
feel.”

“You do not care for miss Drew?” Emily asked, feeling her
excitement return as a small smile appeared on her face.

“Not a jot.” He confirmed, his own smile appearing as he

recognized hers. “I love you. No other.”

“You do?”

“I do. Please say you believe me.” He begged of her, lifting

her hand to his lips. Just like the night before, he turned it
over, placing one of those stolen kisses to the inside of her
wrist. Emily felt a tear slide down her cheek at the touch, but
it was a tear of happiness this time, not of sadness.

“I believe you,” she whispered breathily. “And I love you

too.”

At her words, there was a whimper on the other side of the

room. Both Emily and Aaron looked toward Charity, who was
waving a hand madly in front of her face, apparently trying
to quell her own tears.
“I think we have had quite an effect on my mother,” Emily
said in jest, pulling a warm smile from Aaron as he turned
back to her.

“I want to prove how serious I am about you, Emily. Just how

much I love you.”

“This was a good start,” she said, gesturing at the way he

was holding onto her hands.

“I am just getting started.” He adjusted his hold on her, so

that one of her hands was firmly in his grasp before turning
to Charity. “Lady Dowding, where is your husband?”

“I-in his study,” she said, stammering as she tried to hold

back the tears. “That was very romantic indeed.”

“Why are we going to see my father?” Emily asked as Aaron

towed her out of the room. Charity followed the two of them,
bustling on behind them as they crossed the hall, heading
toward the study.

When they reached the door they found it ajar, with

Archibald looking slowly up from paperwork on his desk.
“May I guess from the way you are clutching to my
daughter’s hand, Lord Tattershall, that whatever led to the
tragedy the other night has been forgiven and explained?”
he asked slowly. Aaron looked to Emily, clearly hoping she
would answer to confirm it was the truth.

“It has been,” she said softly, startled as Aaron drew her
fully into the study to face her father, with Charity watching
from the doorway.

“Then I truly hope you will not hurt her again, my Lord,”
Archibald said as he stood to his feet. “Courtships can end in
many broken hearts, after all.”

“I do not want that to ever happen again,” Aaron spoke with

conviction, drawing Emily’s eyes toward him as he stood
taller. “What that in mind, Lord Dowding, I would like to
make sure at this moment that it can never happen again.”

“What do you mean?” Archibald asked, his brows knitting

together.

“I would like to ask for your blessing, for your daughter’s

hand in marriage.”

Emily reeled, half stumbling back. She thought she might fall
over had it not been for Aaron’s grasp upon her hand,
pulling her back to his side.

“I realize it is hardly orthodox to ask your blessing with

Emily present, but I wished her to be here,” Aaron said
quickly. “I also know I have not coveted myself in glory these
last couple of days, but I will do anything to prove myself
worthy of her, my Lord, and to have your approval.”

He wishes to marry me? Emily stared at him in wonder, not

missing the eagerness and the passion with which he spoke.
Is this possible?

She could have been Elizabeth in her book, feeling that rush
of love as the Captain appeared outside of the tavern. Aaron
had come for her after all, and he was indeed the man she
had always thought him to be, the man she had fallen in love
with.

“Well, Emily?” Archibald said with a small smile as he

turned to face her. “I prefer to let my own children make
their decisions in these matters. I’ll only give my blessing if
she says yes.”

Aaron turned toward her, his eyes lighting up with hope as

he clung onto her hand.
“Marry me, Emily? Please?” There was something so soft
and pleading in his tone that she was reminded of the night
in Brighton when he had confessed what he felt for her.

The last few days may have been turbulent, but because of it,
she had come to see the true strength of what he felt for her.
He wanted her for life at his side, and that gave her
confidence in the fact she had fallen in love with the right
man, more than anything else.

“Emily?” he asked, his tone nervous indeed, until she

smiled. That smile seemed to set all his worries at bay as he
entwined his fingers with hers.

“Yes.”
 EPILOGUE

Two Months Later

“W hat do you think?”

Emily was nervous. She still had not looked into the mirror,
not yet. She was too busy fiddling with her hands and
looking down at the pristine white gown.

“Oh, my Lady, you look truly stunning, please do not be

afraid to look.” Helena’s words were a comfort, making her
smile a little.

“Is that what the problem is?” Julia asked, placing her hands
on her hips and standing in front of Emily, drawing her gaze.
“Look soon, or I will be forced to drag the mirror round here
so you can see yourself.”
“I’m looking,” Emily assured her. “Just give me a minute.”

These days, Emily was happy to look at herself in the mirror

more. It was all to do with the sweet things Aaron whispered
to her. The fact he thought she was beautiful had changed
much for her, made her feel comfortable at last within
herself, but sometimes it was difficult to shed her old ways,
and every now and then she felt those same nerves. Now was
one of those moments.

Of all the days, today, I wish to look well.

Breathing deeply, she turned round at last to greet her

reflection. The person that looked back to her startled her so
much she nearly dropped the bouquet.

“For heaven’s sake, do not drop that!” Grace’s voice

appeared, revealing she was making her way into the room.
“I spent hours overseeing that every red rose was placed
perfectly in the bouquet.”

“Apologies,” Emily said hurriedly as she held the bouquet up

again. A mixture of red and white roses, it was the perfect
selection to compliment her gown.
The white dress hugged her figure, showing off every curve.
The deep neckline and short sleeves revealed her neck and
her arms a little more, elegantly. Each hem was patterned
with soft white lace, perfectly embroidered to resemble more
roses.

Emily’s auburn hair had been gathered into a pristine

chignon with just a few teasing curls to frame her cheeks.

“Well, I do not look too bad,” Emily muttered, scarcely able

to stop her smile.

“Too bad?” Grace laughed. “To look like you on my wedding

day, I will need a wish granted from some fairy. Now, come
on! Our father is waiting impatiently at the bottom of our
stairs.”

“Let me guess, he is pacing back and forth and staring at his

pocket watch that many times he’s in danger of dropping
it?” Emily asked.

“Quite so.”

“So, are you ready?” Julia asked, beckoning Emily toward the
door.
“I’m ready,” she said with glee, walking quickly out the
door. Ever since Aaron had asked her to marry him, she had
pictured this day, now that it was here, it scarcely seemed
real.

She knew she was making her way toward the chapel on the
Duke of Parson’s estate, one laden with flowers for the
occasion. It would be beautiful, but as much as she was
looking forward to the ceremony, she was looking forward to
the time after it. She longed for the celebration and the
wedding breakfast, for time alone with Aaron, where they
would no longer need a chaperone, and all that the future
had to bring.

As she hurried to the stairs, with Julia and Grace behind her,
talking excitedly of what the wedding would be like, Emily
tried to quell her beating heart, for it was going so fast, she
thought it might burst out of her chest. When she reached
the top of the stairs, Archibald’s attention was alerted and he
looked up the steps, his pacing falling still as he found her.

“Emily. You are quite stunning.”

“You are kind to me, father,” Emily murmured as she

hurried down the stairs. When she met her father at the
bottom, he kissed her warmly on the cheek and stepped
back, the better to look her in the eye.
“I am so happy for you, Emily.”

“Thank you,” she said, sighing, still trying to soften that

rumbling heart.

“Just as when I welcomed Julia into the family, I couldn’t be

happier to welcome Aaron into the family. He is a kindred
spirit, a kind soul, and he sets better riddles than the rest of
us, I am sure of it.”

“I think you are right, father,” Emily said with a laugh as he

threaded her arm through his.

“Well, if you are ready, let’s get you to that chapel.”

“Yes, I do not want to be late.”

“Have no fear of that. I am certain he would wait for you as

long as it took.”

“Would you stop fidgeting? Anyone would think you’re

nervous.”
“I’m impatient, Hugh,” Aaron said hurriedly, glancing back
to the door. He had waited so long for this moment. The two
months since had had asked Emily to marry him had felt like
an eternity to him. He looked to the closed door on the other
side of the church once again, only to find it remained firmly
closed, with no sign of it being open. “Where is she?”

“She’ll be here. Not expecting a runaway bride, are you?”

Hugh teased.

“Not remotely,” Aaron assured him. He could still remember

the last he saw Emily. It was just the day before. She had
come to the church to see over the decorations of red and
white roses, interspersed with evergreens. There, they had
rehearsed their wedding by the altar, hand in hand.

“I hope I am smiling that much when I get married,” Hugh

said with a whisper as he turned back to face the vicar, in his
place as Aaron’s best man.

“You will,” Aaron reassured him, fixing Hugh with a firm

gaze. Hugh clearly chose not to answer. Aaron knew his
thoughts – after Jane, Hugh feared he would not attempt
marriage again. “I cared for two women, Hugh. We are not
limited to one love in our life. Remember that.”

“Yes, I am sure you are right,” Hugh said with a smile as he

looked at the congregation. “Everyone is here.”
“Yes, I think our mother is going to break our father’s hand
from how tightly she is squeezing his hand,” Aaron pointed
toward the front of the pews where Joyce was clinging to
Frederick’s hand so much, he was wincing.

“I think your bride’s wife is in tears already,” Hugh

chuckled, drawing Aaron’s gaze toward the other side of the
church.

Lady Dowding was sat with her son, Lord Bolton, already
dabbing around her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Thank goodness they are tears of happiness,” Aaron felt

relieved. After he had asked Emily to marry him and received
Lord Dowding’s permission, he had gone to each family
member in turn to check that they approved and gave their
blessing for him to join the family as well.

Having been witness to his proposal, Lady Dowding had

given her blessing in tears and thrown her arms around him.
It was a heartfelt and touching moment that Aaron would
treasure with him.

The sound of the door opening made Aaron flick his gaze to
the door. The organ music began just as the doors opened,
revealing Emily at last.
As soon as she stepped through with Lord Dowding on her
arm and her bridesmaids behind her, Aaron felt at peace. All
sense of fidgeting left him with Emily moving toward him,
with such a smile on her face that she looked ready to run
down the aisle toward him.

“She is beautiful,” Aaron murmured, startled that Hugh

could hear him.

“You have fallen in love with someone quite wonderful,

Aaron,” Hugh said softly.

“I know.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I would have done

without her.”

As Emily moved nearer, Aaron’s eyes flicked toward Lady

Bolton stood behind her, as he remembered just how he had
met Emily. That night at the ball, Lady Bolton was the one
who had introduced them both.

“Remind me to thank Lady Bolton later,” he murmured to

Hugh. “Without her, I wouldn’t have met Emily.”
“Did she set the two of you together?” Hugh’s words made
Aaron stiffen in realization before he left.

“Do you know what, that might well have been her intention
when she introduced us. A little matchmaking. Thank god for
it!” he beamed as Emily reached his side and he took her
from her father’s arm, drawing her toward him. “What took
you so long?” he playfully whispered to Emily.

“The clock says a minute past,” she murmured, rolling her

eyes. “Impatient man.”

“To be married to you? Very impatient indeed.”

The End?
 EXTENDED EPILOGUE

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evolved? Then enjoy this free complimentary short story
featuring the beloved couple!

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PREVIEW: A DUCHESS BY
CHRISTMAS
 CHAPTER ONE

R ose Byrd admired the effect of the glass drop earrings

her maid, Leah Pritcher, had just attached to her ears.
“You look lovely,” Leah said. “Just like a princess, only much
kinder.”
“I hope you are right, Leah. I need to find a suitor who is
sufficiently well-off to pay Father’s gambling debts, or we
are likely to spend Christmas in the poor house.”
“Surely it is not so bad as all that,” Leah said
sympathetically.
Rose thought of her carefully kept book of household
accounts, and of the bills that were crammed into a
pigeonhole in her grandfather’s battered old desk. “I’m
afraid it is,” Rose replied. “The cook is ready to give notice
because he has not been paid since the beginning of the year,
the footmen and maids have already left for better positions.
You and Mrs. Pritcher are the only household staff who are
left.”
Mrs. Pritcher, a young widow with Leah at her breast, had
been hired as hired as a wetnurse when Rose was a baby. She
had advanced through the household ranks as Rose grew and
as the household staff was steadily reduced.
Mrs. Pritcher had kept the house going through many
seasons of want. But even her canny skills were hard pressed
this winter to keep food and fuel in supply. As they went
deeper and deeper in debt to the tradesmen, the Marquess of
Nott, Rose’s father, bet ever more heavily on the horses. He
said he was hoping to recover their fortunes, but Rose could
see nothing but ruin staring them in the face as the reserve
money, supposed to be her personal allowance, grew lower
and lower in the little carved box where she kept her most
precious things. Most of the bank notes were gone, and only
a few coins rattled in the bottom of it.
“Mother loves you, as do I,” Leah said. “No sister could be
dearer to me, and I know that she regards you as a daughter.
She could have a different position, but she says that this is a
better place to work than the finest houses of the Ton.”
“That is kind of her,” Rose replied, a tear threatening to
escape and smear Leah’s careful application of kohl beneath
her lower eye lashes. “But I am so afraid that her devotion
will mean that she will join us in that horrible domicile
reserved for those who cannot keep up their rent. My only
solace is that our creditors will gain very little from
auctioning off our estate, for I have sold or had the footmen
pawn nearly everything of any value.” Rose forestalled
Leah’s protests with a raised hand. “No, do not say that I am
wrong. we both know how it is.”
Leah’s sigh was so soft it was almost unnoticeable. “Yes, I do
know. I also know that you did not eat any dinner. There is
still some bread and butter, and a little stew. Will you have
some before we go?”
“No, I would rather leave it for Mrs. Pritcher. There are likely
to be refreshments at the ball. I have just enough money to
pay the hackney when he comes to pick us up, and to get
back home. So, in a very true sense of the word, we are
gambling a great deal on this one event.”
“I am so sorry,” Leah said. “I know that you had hoped to
marry for love. But that is not to say that it could not happen.
You might meet the perfect gentleman to capture your heart
as well as one likely to open his pocketbook for you.”
“Leah, you give me courage,” Rose replied.
“Oh, Rose, it is you who have the courage,” Leah comforted
her. “Besides, you are so beautiful. You will outshine every
other young lady there.”
“That is all thanks to you, Leah, with your clever way with a
needle. No one would guess that we purchased our gowns
from a reseller store in Cheapside. In fact, I doubt if the
original owners would recognize them.”
“That was the idea,” Leah replied. “After all, it would not do
for someone to discover that you were wearing their
discarded frock.”
“No indeed. That would be disastrous,” Rose agreed.
“But come, let us put on our pelisses and hats. Only the rich
and famous can afford to be fashionably late.”
“But one still should not arrive too early,” Rose pointed out.
“For then you look, oh, what is the word I want?”
“Importunate? Needy? Pushing?” Leah suggested.
“All of those, and gauche besides. I cannot afford any flaws
tonight. I must attract a husband who can and is willing to
take on my father’s debts.”
Mrs. Pritcher appeared at the door. “Your hackney is here,
Miss Rose.” Rose would have been perfectly happy for her
former nurse and her companion to call her by her first
name. Properly, she should have been Lady Rose, but ‘miss’
was a compromise they could all live with.
“You are perfect, and everyone will love you. Now, let us go
quickly before the Tommy decides not to wait.”
Rose took Leah’s advice, and hastened out the front door of
their small, shabby townhouse. The cabby gave a whistle and
tipped her a wink. “You’ll turn all their heads, Lady Rose.
No, nope, not a penny tonight. You fed me often enough
when I was on the streets with no job. This one is on me, and
I’ll check back around at midnight to see if you need a ride
home.”
“Thank you, Tommy. You are a true friend.”
The rattletrap little hackney carriage set off at a sharp clip.
Rose rode in silence, watching the lighted windows of more
affluent houses go by until they reached a block where every
streetlamp was alight, paper lanterns were strung from
posts, and every window in the imposing house shone out
over the scene below.
Tommy reined his horse and the shabby cab settled in
behind an imposing carriage. He looped the reins so the
horse would stand, then helped Rose out of the vehicle onto
the boardwalk that had been laid out for guests.
Rose very nearly asked the young driver to take her back
home again, but Tommy commented quietly, “Don’t you let
them scare you none, Lady Rose. You are prettier and kinder
than any of those puffed-up mushrooms. You just hold your
head up and walk proud.”
So that was what Rose did. She straightened her shoulders,
lifted her chin and “walked proud”, with Leah right behind
her, up the sidewalk into the mansion.
Rose looked around as she entered the high-ceilinged hall.
Filigree at the transoms, and other ornamental features
shone a mellow gold in the bright candlelight. Crystal
chandeliers caught the light and refracted it, creating
dancing sparkles across the ceiling and down the walls.
Rose stopped short. “Is it too late to go home?” she
whispered to Leah.
“Tommy has already gone,” Leah whispered back. “He will
need some paying fares to make up for not charging us. Let’s
at least find the refreshment table and have something to
eat.”
Rose worked her way through the press of people. It was not
quite one of those crushes where people could scarcely pack
themselves into the structure, but the rooms were certainly
well-filled. Between the roaring fires in every hearth, the
candles, and the guests, the rooms were quite warm.
By the time Rose and Leah found their way to the table that
was laid out with punch, little sandwiches, biscuits, and hors
d’oeuvres of all sorts she felt that she had earned a treat or
two. They each picked up a napkin and stacked it with tiny
sandwiches, biscuits, hors d’oeuvres.
Rose paused at the punch bowl, wondering whether to hand
Leah the napkins and carry cups or whether it would be
better the other way around, when a gentleman’s voice said,
“Allow me. It is so difficult to manage a decent treat and a
drink. My friends and I have found a table in the corner. I am
sure they will not mind sharing.”
Bemused by this masterful ordering of their comfort, Rose
and Leah followed the gentleman to a small table in one
corner. Another gentleman and an older lady were already
seated there. Their impromptu host set their drinks on the
edge of the small table, then with complete disregard for the
room’s organization, he scooted another small table over
against the first and pulled over two more chairs.
“Here we are.” he said, “Allow me to present my
grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Galpin, and my
cousin, Lord Archibald Egerton. Grandmother, you have been
nagging me to find a dance partner, now here she is.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Rose murmured, dropping a curtsey
of precisely the right depth, Leah following suit only have a
beat later.
“Sit, sit!” the Duchess waved a hand. “I cannot abide people
hovering around.”
Obediently, Rose sat, delicately placing her napkin on the
edge of the table. The other occupants of the table, she
realized, had their refreshments on plates. Refusing to admit
fault, she carefully unwrapped the napkin, displaying her
selections. Leah imitated her actions as if this was their
normal way of behaving.
“A unique approach to solving the slippery plate problem,”
the Duchess remarked, peering at the opened napkins
through her lorgnette.
Rose felt the color rise in her cheeks. “It seemed only
sensible, Your Grace.”
“Indeed.” The Duchess turned to her seat companion, “Why
did we not think of that, Archibald?”
“I suppose it was because we are not quite as socially secure
as, uh, I did not catch your name?” He focused his gaze on
Rose, allowing his voice to up tilt into a question.
“Rose Byrd, daughter of the Marquess of Nott, and my
companion, Leah Pritcher.” Rose tried to keep the tremble
out of her voice, and mostly succeeded.
What am I doing here among these people? I need to be perfect,
and I know I have already made at least two mistakes in the way I
behave.
“Harry, where did you find this gem?” The Duchess fixed a
gimlet glare on the gentleman who had fetched drinks for
her and the other two people at the table, as well as for Rose
and Leah. The words were coated with her disapproval.
“Hovering by the refreshment table wondering how to carry
loaded napkins and drinks,” the gentleman replied
cheerfully. “I suppose I should introduce myself, Lady Rose.
I am Harry Egerton, the Duke of Galpin.”
Rose nearly choked on the bite of biscuit she had in her
mouth. She recovered herself, chewed, swallowed, and took a
sip of the punch. She nearly choked again. The stuff had only
a nodding acquaintance with fruit juice. It seemed to contain
a great deal of wine and possibly something stronger.
“Aw, now, you’ve surprised her,” Archibald commented.
“Before you ask, Lady Rose, yes, he is that Galpin, and I am
his heir until he marries and has a son to succeed him.
Which I do wish he would hurry up and do, because I have
other things in my life to do besides run Galpin.”
The Duchess tapped Archibald lightly on his knuckles. “I am
the only one allowed to chide Harry for not finding a suitable
wife.” The way she primmed up her mouth and bit off the
words let Rose know that no daughter of a mere Marquess,
and that Marquess in particular, would be good enough for
her grandson.
“There will be dancing,” the Duchess said. “You should find
a suitable partner, Harry. You will not find a wife sitting with
your reluctant heir and your grandmother.”
“To be sure I will not. Lady Rose, would you care to dance?”
 CHAPTER TWO

H arry nearly burst out laughing at the look on his

grandmother’s face and at the wistful look Lady Rose
cast at the hors d’oeuvre still on her napkin. “Finish your
treats, Lady Rose. The music will continue throughout the
evening.”
Throwing caution to the winds, she popped the thin, crisp
wafer into her mouth and chewed cautiously. An expression
of bliss spread over her features, despite her embarrassment.
“Oh, my! That is delicious.”
“Are they not?” Harry said encouragingly. “Our hostess sets
an excellent table, even for an indeterminate number of
guests. It is fortunate that you visited the refreshment table
early. Later, all of the best foods will be gone.”
Rose put aside her embarrassment to reply, “Then I am very
glad I decided to sample one. I was not at all sure I would like
it.”
“You would not have wanted to have missed it,” Harry
assured her. “Would you care to dance?”
Rose took a sip of the wickedly spiked punch, then replied, “I
would love to.”
Harry led Rose out onto the dance floor, Archibald gallantly
followed with Leah. Fortunately, it was a country dance that
Rose knew well. Even so, it had been a long while since she
had danced with anyone besides Leah as a partner. When she
and Leah danced, Rose usually led, so there was a moment of
confusion as she tried to go the wrong way. “Follow me,”
Harry murmured in her ear. “I am not the world’s best
dancer, but I will try not to lead you astray.”
The other dancers quickly realized that they were sharing
the floor with novices and helped steer them through the
figures with little nudges and suggestions.
As the set finished, Harry could see his grandmother
approaching. “I feel as if I have run a marathon, Rose. Why
don’t we seek a different refreshment table? We will pick up
Archibald and your companion on the way. I think I can find
something a little more to your liking than that ratafia
punch.”
“So that is what that was. Something different would be
wonderful.”
“Never let our hostess hear you say so. She dotes on that
punch. But I think I know a table that has plain tea and
lemonade.”
“Oh, lemonade would be wonderful!”
“Glad to be of service,” Harry said, smoothly guiding Rose
off the dance floor and toward a nearby archway, with
Archibald and Leah trailing behind. Another refreshment
table was set up here, displaying several sorts of thin wafers
with a variety of toppings.
Tables and chairs were set up in front of casement windows,
overlooked the garden where a well-lighted set of waxwork
tableaus illustrated key events in the life of St. Nicholas. “So
lifelike,” Rose commented. “I wonder what the good saint
would have thought of all of this?”
“He would probably have taken a leaf from the New
Testament and have driven us all into the street with a
scourge or have demanded that we pay a tithe to support the
poor before we proceeded with our own merriment.”
Rose’s gaze dropped to the well-laden little plate that he had
set before her. “I wonder how many children are going to
bed tonight without food or even enough rags to keep them
warm.”
It came to him then that slender was very much akin to thin,
and that her delicate fingers and defined cheekbones might
indicate something other than good breeding. This is personal
to her, not just speculation about the many homeless, hungry
children in the city.
“Tell me, Lady Rose, why you were languishing beside the
refreshment table instead of having suitors clamoring to
dance with you?”
“Perhaps I am not a very good dancer?”
“No, I think there is something more than that. You are too
lovely to be a wallflower. Truly, you can tell me,” he coaxed.
Rose nibbled pensively at one of the little crackers that were
smeared with meat paste. He watched with fascination. She
truly seemed to favor the things over the sweets.
“Very well, but it is not a pretty story.”
“All right. I have braced myself for the worst.”
“My father has fairly well brought us to ruin. He is, indeed, a
marquess of naught, for we have nearly nothing. He goes to
the races, sits in on extravagant card games, and entirely
neglects to provide me or the housekeeper with funds for
upkeep of our home. My only hope is to secure a rich
husband, or at least one who is willing to purchase my
father’s gambling debts and to provide money for at least a
portion of the bills.”
“A far too familiar story, but one frankly told without
dissembling. Not many young ladies would be so bold or so
brave.”
“It is easy to be brave when you have nothing to lose.”
“Ah, but most young ladies would have dissembled. Your
honesty about your need is refreshing.”
“And futile. I knew that this was a mad venture as soon as
my hackney drew away. For all that my name is as old and
honorable as any here, no one is likely to make me an offer. I
have simply wasted time and money that could have been
better spent on fuel or food.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Meanwhile, let me see what might be
done on your behalf. I scarcely think you would be sent to the
poorhouse, regardless of your state of penury. Still, your
situation seems somewhat dire. I would not like to think of
anyone being forced into marriage through circumstance. I
can assure you, I know a great deal about that.”
“You do?” Lady Rose seemed a trifle skeptical.
“Do you know why I whisked us over to the refreshment
table and then out here to view the waxworks?”
“No. I will admit that I found it somewhat surprising.”
“The reason is quite simple. My grandmother was heading
over our way. She is a marvelous lady, a power in her own
right, and of late she has been pressuring me to marry and
get myself an heir other than Archibald.”
“He said something about not wanting the title.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “I can assure you, he does not. Archie
wants to travel, to explore the world. He might be persuaded
to oversee a branch of our shipping, but he does not want
what he calls the burden of the estate. Some days, I do not
want it either, but I have it anyway.”
“What would you do instead?” Lady Rose asked.
“Honestly, I have no idea. I grew up with the understanding
that this is what I would do. But sometimes I do think it
would be nice to have a choice.”
“Choices are lovely things to have,” she agreed. “I can see
why you might wish for it. I have read about you in the
papers. It would seem you have a great many serious
decisions to make.”
“Fortunately, I do not have to make them alone. Tell me,
Lady Rose, do you have anyone to share your burdens?”
“Yes, and no. I have my companion who is dearer to me than
a sister, and her mother who is my housekeeper. They have
chosen to stay on despite not receiving any wages. But their
presence puts an even greater burden on me to find some
way to provide for the household.”
“Then you truly do understand. You have people who care
about you and help you, but ultimately you are responsible
for them.”
“Yes. And that is why you have accepted your title and the
responsibilities it confers.”
“Yes.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. Harry had
never felt quite so much in accord with anyone. She
understands the responsibility that goes with position. So much
better than any of the dissembling beauties that have been
thrown at me day after day.
“Lady Rose, I will truly look into your situation.”
“Will you have time for my small affairs? I am sure you have
much greater concerns.”
“I will make time. Perhaps we could meet and discuss your
options further. Would you do me the courtesy of walking
with me in Vauxhall Gardens?” Seeing the look of dismay
that spread over her face, Harry quickly added, “We can
meet at the entrance, and I will take care of both our fees.”
“Why, then, yes. I would be happy to walk with you. I am
told it is decorated to be especially festive for the season.”
“Ah, Lady Rose! I was told I might find you here tonight.”
Harry could see by the way Lady Rose’s hand tightened on
her napkin that this was not a person she wished to see.
He turned and looked at the speaker. The fellow wore a
lavender suit made up from an exceptionally busy satin
brocade. His puce waistcoat sported more buttons that the
back of the most expensive wedding gown, and a heavy chain
watch fob dangled from his pocket. His hair was slicked back
into a queue and tied with a matching ribbon. His slippers
were impeccable, and his stockings sported glittering clocks.
A mushroom if ever I have seen one. I wonder how he knows Lady
Rose?
“Good evening, Mr. Everly. I trust you are well?”
“I am very well whenever I behold such beauty as yours,
Lady Rose.” The fellow smiled wide, displaying quite an
expanse of gold capped teeth. He exuded an unpleasant
aroma of bay rum, flavored tobacco, and tooth decay.
“Please, do not let me keep you, Mr. Everly. I was just on my
way out.”
The fellow took a step closer to Lady Rose. “Perhaps you
would let me escort you home?”
“No, thank you. I have someone meeting me. I’m sure my
small affairs are of no concern of yours.”
“But Lady Rose, I think they are. I would be most desirous of
discussing them during a dance. The waltz is coming up
shortly after dinner, I believe.”
Lady Rose rose from her seat and took a step backward. “No,
thank you. I have an escort for dinner.” She threw a
desperate look at Harry.
Gallantly, he stepped up to the occasion. “I’m afraid I have
commandeered all Lady Rose’s dances for the evening. A
terrible breech of etiquette, I know, but what can one do in
the face of such beauty?”
Leah gave a small gasp. Claiming more than one dance was
reserved for a betrothed couple and even they should dance
no more than three dances together.
Mr. Everly again treated them both to that solid gold grin
and a blast of halitosis. “I would be glad to rectify your social
gaffe, Your Grace, by taking a few of those dances off your
hands.”
“No, no I am afraid I cannot allow you to do that. I am so
captivated that I would be devastated to relinquish a single
one.”
Just then a bell began to chime with soft silver tones. “That
is the call to dinner,” Harry said. “Shall we, Lady Rose?”
“I would be delighted,” she responded placing her hand on
his arm.
Harry skillfully steered her away from Mr. Everly, trusting
Archibald to bring Leah along, as well. When they were
sufficiently distant from the fellow’s eye-searing sartorial
magnificence and his dreadful halitosis, she whispered,
“Now you’ve done it. He will report back to my father, and
Father will expect you to appear in my life.”
“What of it? It has occurred to me that I might want to see
you again, at least once or twice. If you then wish to cease
contact, I am an amiable sort of man who can take no for an
answer. Besides, did you want that fellow dangling after you
all evening?”
“Indeed, I did not. But . . .”
Harry sighed. “Let me guess. Your father owes him money.”
Wordlessly, Lady Rose nodded. “He purchased some of
father’s debts. There was a man that was about to call him
out over them. I should be grateful, but he makes my skin
crawl. I can scarcely stand to be in the same room with him.”
“That simply shows that you have a good sense. I do not
even want to get close enough to him to dunk him in the
nearest gutter. Have no fear. I can act your defender for the
evening. Tomorrow, we will discuss doing something a little
more permanent about your situation. No lady of gentle
breeding should have to fear the loss of her home.”
“I fear I am no more vulnerable than many others. But I will
take the shelter of your escort to dinner, at the very least.
Perhaps he will grow tired of hanging about and leave.”
 CHAPTER THREE

R ose tried to keep her hand from trembling where it

rested on the back of the Duke’s wrist. She could feel
Mr. Everly’s eyes upon her. In her mind, it seemed as if they
were boring holes into her back while he threw a giant
fishhook and dragged her back to him.
Overall, she knew that this was likely to prove terribly
embarrassing for both of them, but she felt grateful not to
have to deal with her father’s associate. She would not call
him a friend, for she did not feel that the fellow had any
friendly feelings toward her father or herself. Rather, she felt
sure that he had some purpose that would prove
disadvantageous to them both.
As they approached the table that was set for four, the
Dowager Duchess frowned at them.
“Well! Still here? I would have thought you might have found
someone more frivolous by now.”
“Grandmother,” the Duke said gently, “I am rescuing the
lady from a slimy weasel who has managed to enter
disguised as a guest. I could not abandon her to him.”
“Hmph,” the duchess snorted indelicately, but she did not
protest further.
Rose was beginning to rather like the old lady, irascible as
she seemed, but it was clear that the feeling was not mutual.
If I had set my cap for the duke, she would be a challenging border
guard to cross.
Harry pulled out one of the heavy carved dining chairs and
seated her at the table. Here, at least, Rose felt sure she could
maintain good manners. Mrs. Pritcher had worked in enough
of what she called the Great Houses to drill both Rose and
Leah in correct table manners. She need not fear using the
wrong fork.
They had scarcely reached the desert course before the
Dowager Duchess attacked. “So, daughter to the Marquess of
Nott. Now, how exactly do you spell that? Is it N-o-t, or N-
a-u-g-h-t? These new houses, so difficult to keep up with.”
“We are not new,” Rose said, “Merely very small and usually
both unseen and unheard.” And likely to disappear, at the rate
my father is going.
“Country cousins?” Archibald asked.
“In a sense,” Rose replied. “Sufficiently important in our
own district, but scarcely heard of in London. When I was
younger and my mother was still alive, we rarely came to
London, even for the season. Nott is largely self-sufficient,
even though it is small. We have sheep, grow flax and oats,
and have sufficient woodlots to keep the main house and the
tenants in firewood. Most of the cots have their own garden
space, and the main house has both ornamental and
vegetable gardens.”
“What changed?” Harry asked.
“The weather, mostly. The growing seasons have not been
good of late. A sickness took two of the flocks of sheep. The
tenant farmers had little enough to feed their families, let
alone pay tithes. Father brought me to London so that I could
have a season, but there was no one to sponsor me to the
private balls. Meanwhile, he took to gambling to ‘better our
fortunes’, which predictably made them worse.”
The Dowager nodded. “An all too familiar a tale of late. Truly
Harry, Something Should Be Done.” The capitals on her
statement could almost be heard.
“There are some plans underway, but as you say,
Grandmother, this is becoming quite a familiar tale. Rose, I
will look into your case in particular, but I am part of a
committee that has been looking for ways to solve the
difficulty.”
She nodded, a little wearily. “Thank you.”
The Dowager Duchess eyed the two of them for a moment,
then said abruptly, “I will sponsor you to Almacks. If the
patronesses accept you, that should open at least a few
doors. I suspect you came here tonight hoping to meet some
eligible bachelors?”
At Rose’s shy nod, the Dowager Duchess snorted indelicately.
“Do not expect to latch onto my grandson.”
“Grandmother!” Harry protested indignantly. “I am hardly a
callow youth.”
“Quite so,” his grandmother observed. “But you have
immersed yourself in work to the extent that you scarcely
step outside Parliament long enough to know what the
general populace looks like, let alone what their specific
troubles might be. While that is not youth, it is still not
social experience.”
Harry, to his credit, did not roll his eyes but his face
developed a remarkably patient look. Archibald grinned.
“What my cousin is refraining from commenting is that to
Grandmother we are scarcely out of short pants.”
“Neither of you are frequently seen in company,” the
venerable lady observed. “You might as well be fresh out of
the schoolroom for all of the social experience you have
gained of late.”
“I do know the difference between someone who is genuine
or is ‘on the take.’ I do not believe that Lady Rose is of the
latter sort.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” the Dowager observed. “You have
just met. I know the type. Pretty, helpless, dependent, and so
appreciative. No, no, do not bridle or color up, my dear. Most
of us who are wed had our moments that are very like that.
Do not think that even at my age I have forgotten.”
Rose looked down at her plate. How miserable. I cannot even
dispute the need for a protector. She looked up again. “Thank
you, Your Grace, for offering to sponsor me to Almacks. I had
no hope of being admitted to that august presence. Such an
event would, indeed, be of benefit to me.”
The Dowager’s expression softened a little. “That is a
sensible child. Good for you, my dear. You recognize an
advantage when you see one.”
“I appreciate the honor, Your Grace. It would be highly
unwise for me to turn it down given my current situation. I
would be glad to make an alliance with someone who is kind
and I have no illusions about my current situation. Not only
do I need to find a protector who will take care of my debts, I
need to locate someone who will defend me from the suitors
my father sends to me.”
The Dowager Duchess raised her eyebrows. “Well, Harry, you
are right about one thing: she is refreshingly forthcoming.
You do realize, young lady, that such honesty will not endear
you in all circles.”
Rose looked at her hands where they were clenched together
on the edge of the table, then looked back up at the Dowager
Duchess. “I do understand that. But even though you do not
wish me to connect with your grandson, you have offered to
help me. Even though I do question why, I need the help. It
would seem to me that honesty with you would serve me
better than prevarication.”
“Quite right. Given half a chance I and the patronesses
should be able to discover a suitable husband for you.
Preferably one who is kind, monied, and willing to deal with
your father. It is something of a tall order, but not
impossible. Fortunately, in spite of that unfortunate dress
which I think I have seen on someone else a year or two ago,
you present a good appearance. I think I shall invest in you.
Will you kindly receive my modiste tomorrow?”
“I cannot pay her, Your Grace. I am truly reduced to penury.
Even the cook has given notice. Only my companion and my
housekeeper remain out of loyalty to me.”
“Is it so? Well, you will not be able to receive guests since
you have no proper chaperone at your home. Or do I mistake
your father’s habits?”
“You have assessed them quite accurately, Your Grace. He is
rarely at home unless he is hosting a card game.”
“In that case, you will receive callers at Galpin House. It
establishes our connection and will avoid such creatures as
the one I saw trailing after you just now. Harry, I am ready to
quit this place. Lady Rose, I would strongly suggest that you
should leave, as well. Can we drop you somewhere?”
Feeling that she could scarcely sink any lower in their
estimation, Rose gave her unfashionable address, adding, “If
a message could be left at the One Horse Hackney stand, I
would be obliged. It would keep the friend who provided my
transportation here from worrying.”
“Your friend picks up messages at the hackney stand?”
“My friend owns the hackney stand,” Rose explained. “He is
very kind to me.”
“But not husband material.” The Duchess made a statement
of it.
“Since he is barely sixteen, not in the least. He is, however,
quite reliable should you ever require a public conveyance.”
Harry broke into the dialogue between the Dowager Duchess
and Rose. “I will take care of that, Grandmother. It is just
possible that he is the sort of person I have been seeking to
cultivate as a means of shoring up local failing economies.”
“Thank you, Harry. Now, shall we all be off? While our
hostess sets a good table, I would as soon have my new
protege away from here before she is seen by many more
persons while wearing that dress.”
“I understand. Thank you, Your Graces, for your help. And
for your assistance in avoiding Mr. Everly. If I see him again
tonight, I shall be obliged to discover an excuse why he
should not see me home.”
But getting away from Mr. Everly was not quite so simple as
that. As they left the dining room, he came bustling up. “Oh,
good! I have caught you before you have left. Your father
desires for me to call on you tomorrow, Rose, and I am
prepared to give you a ride back to your lodging.”
The Dowager Duchess froze him with a look. “Lady Rose is
riding with us, and she will be otherwise engaged tomorrow
as I have requested her attendance at breakfast in the
morning. I’m sure that you understand that my
requirements take precedence.”
Mr. Everly looked a bit startled. “Of course, Your Grace. I
would not dream . . .”
“Of course you would not. Now, if you would excuse us, we
must be on our way.”
In the carriage, the Dowager ordered the seating so that Rose
sat between her and Leah, and across from Archibald with
Harry in the opposite corner. “Quite an adroit extraction,
Grandmother,” he said. “But I fear that draper’s model will
not take no for an answer.”
“He is quite persistent,” Rose agreed. “I have resorted to
such ruses as being out shopping, even though I was upstairs
in my room, and even pretending to have a headache when I
was perfectly well. Mrs. Pritcher simply is not enough
authority to tell him to leave, so he hangs about drinking tea
that we can ill afford to share while supposedly waiting for
Father.”
“Ah, the infamous father. Will we meet him?” Archibald
asked.
“I doubt it,” Rose replied. “He was intent upon some game
or other that he was convinced would save our fortunes. It is
a good thing that I hid the rest of the housekeeping money,
including my personal allowance, such as is left of it.”
“You’ve been paying your housekeeping staff out of your
personal money?” the Dowager asked shrewdly.
“Yes. There was nothing else with which to pay them. I have
a tiny income from my mother’s dowery, which was set up in
such a way that my father cannot touch it.”
“Interesting,” Harry remarked. “It is unusual to deny the
husband access. One must wonder what your grandfather
was thinking, although it doubtless has proved fortuitous.”
“I suspect that he was thinking that my father was an
exceptionally feckless young man who was incapable of
managing his own affairs, let alone those of his wife.
Without his forethought, we would be in dire straits.”
“It would seem so,” Archibald declared.
The carriage then rolled to a stop in front of the shabby
rental accommodation where Rose and her father currently
lived. She was deeply grateful to her housekeeper at that
moment because Mrs. Pritcher had insisted on sweeping the
front steps and on paying the dustbin collection, even when
it meant they lived on bean gruel and oatcakes. Unlike the
neighboring domiciles, their front steps were clean and free
of refuse.
“Good night,” Rose said, once she and Leah stood on the
sidewalk.
“Good night,” Harry replied. “I will meet you at Vauxhall
entrance tomorrow.”
Rose hurried up the steps, not sure whether to look forward
eagerly or to dread what might happen on the morrow.
Want to know how the story ends? Tap on the link below to
read the rest of the story.

A Duchess by Christmas

Thank you very much!

 ALSO BY TIFFANY BATON

Thank you for reading The Marquess and the Wallflower!

I truly hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! ♥ If you did,
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Some other bestsellers of mine:

A Duchess by Christmas
A Governess to Heal the Earl
The Scars of the Icy Duke
A Fake Courtship with the Marquess
A Misunderstood Duchess for the Unloved Duke
A Marquess to Call Her Own

***

Your support is what allows me to keep doing what I love most, and I’m forever
grateful!

Tiffany Baton
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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Like all true romantics, Tiffany had always been fascinated by the great love
stories of the past. The only child of two historians, she had always felt a pull
towards British History and the epics that it spawned. But, instead of following in
her parent’s footsteps, Tiffany chose to express her love of history in her own
way: by writing about her favorite era.
After obtaining a degree in English Literature, Tiffany decided to write her first
book and never looked back. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time
with her own Prince Charming, and their two beautiful children, enjoying
Massachusetts’ natural wonders.
Hop on for a unique journey in Regency England, filled with intensity and
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