SWNOVELS A Bluestocking for the Duke: Chapter 7
Emma’s hand teetered, a glass of red wine balanced precariously amongst her fingers. Her eyes scanned the room. The majority of the first floor of the Terrell Estate had been cleared of furniture to make room for dancing and socializing. The most important faces of the ton had arrived, each boasting incredible dresses and polished suits. The season hadn’t officially started, but it seemed like a rather long winter had made everyone anxious for any reason to celebrate.
“Is that the unshakable Miss Hale?”
Emma jumped, red wine sloshing out of her glass and dripping onto her satiny white gloves. “Goodness gracious,” she huffed, catching her breath.
“Oh dear,” Adam said, reaching out to take her wine glass from her. She examined the stain on her gloves. Too small to do anything about, yet large enough for anyone to notice. “Oh my, Miss Hale, I really loused that up.”
She looked up and met his eyes. They were darker than his brother’s but less imposing. He always looked a little warmer and more inviting. From what she’d overheard, he had a bit of a reputation for being a rake. Already she could tell he was a little more flirtatious than most. She hadn’t been entirely sure what to think of him. He and Colin’s relationship had seemed just as hard to read. He smiled nervously, licked his lips, and eyed the wine in his hands.
“It is nothing,” she said. “I have a change of gloves upstairs.”
He nodded, cleaning the drip of red wine from the side of her glass before handing it back to her. He tucked the handkerchief gingerly back into his pocket. “The lovely Miss Harriet Hale was just boasting about her older, wiser, unflappable sister,” he said. “So, I am surprised to find you shaking like, um…well, like Lemon Drop.”
Her eyebrow rose. “Comparing me to a dog, are you? What a way to speak to me. And here I was told you were graceful in the face of womankind.”
He shrugged. “Miss Hale, if you are to be joining the family, then I must treat you equally.” He offered her a smile. “In this house, the Duke and his allies receive the brunt of my chaos, all with the purest of affections, of course.”
Emma grinned, stifling a laugh. “Regarding my tenacity, I believe I have every right to be nervous.” And she did. Once her engagement was announced, there was no proper way of going back. “Do you not suppose it is fair for me to feel anxious under the eye of your brother?”
“He is harmless,” he said. “I hate to compare everyone to a dog, but his bark is the most grating thing about him.”
Emma looked around the room again but still had not spotted him. “I would say. He can certainly be vicious.”
“True,” he said. “But I really do live for his insults. He can be funny, although I am not certain that is always his intention.”
“The conversations I overheard were anything but amusing.”
“Why not join me for a dance?” he asked as if it were a way to ask for forgiveness for the part he played in that entire debacle. He had mostly defended her, but he, too, misunderstood her. Emma accepted, offering her hand. They went out to the floor and joined in on a line dance.
Adam nodded, taking her hand carefully. “Well,” he paused, looking out over the ballroom. He breathed in deeply and straightened his collar. “I understand that my brother is…” He paused. “He can be very…”
“He is a wonderful man.”
Adam smothered a grin. “Really? You two are bluffing every man and woman in the room, but I know my brother, and I would venture to say I have my finger on your pulse just the same.”
Emma grimaced, turning away from him, carefully counting the timing of the steps in her head. “Fine, then what is he? Cynical? Distrusting?”
“Precisely.” He nodded. For a moment, they spun with the couples on the floor. Emma glanced down the line of dancers for the Duke, but he was nowhere to be seen. “If you want to have everyone convinced, you have done a fantastic job. Your family is captivated, and my mother and sister are in raptures. And I might have been, too, if I did not know my brother as well. As for Lemon Drop, he remains unphased.”
“I will love him,” she blurted out.
“You do not already love Lemon?”
“The Duke,” she sighed. “I speak of the Duke.”
“Ah.” Adam nodded, taking her hand and eyeing her suspiciously. “He is difficult to understand, but if you give him a proper chance and look well beneath all his blockades, there is someone worth loving there.”
Emma stared back at him; lips parted. She felt compelled to fill the silence but was unsure with what. She could only hope that he was correct because right now, she wasn’t certain whether genuine affection might be in her future with the Duke.
“The same goes for the dog, too, now that I think of it. The two really are kindred spirits. Sort of unnerving if you ask me.”
They continued the dance. He became more energetic, hopping around with abandon. He seemed to enjoy mirth and dancing quite a bit. He was the antithesis of everything the Duke was.
As the song ended, they parted, and he bowed, seemingly grateful for an opportunity to stretch his legs. “I should go change my gloves,” she said, curtsying.
He smiled lightly at her. “You and I both know that there is more going on than a happily-ever-after. But there are some things that he cannot hide. Even if you are lying about your feelings Miss Hale, I believe there is an attachment, at least on his behalf.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she said. She turned away and walked, smiling at familiar faces. The gallery was the largest open space. The domed room was adorned with flickering candles on the walls and breathtaking pieces of artwork. The ceiling was fitted with glass panels. The moon hung in the sky, still, peaceful, as if to remind her that the world should have been asleep. Yet instead, her heart was racing at the thought of a lifetime with a man she hardly understood.
Emma stepped through the archway, and back into the foyer. She hiked up her skirts and made her way up the staircase. She kept her head down, careful not to trip on her beautiful white dress. She stilled at the top of the stairs, seeing a pair of feet before her.
Her body stiffened, cheeks reddening when she caught the Duke making his way down to the main floor. He glanced briefly at her before looking around the dark foyer. The stairs were carpeted with a grand oxblood runner that made the house look expensive yet dated.
The Duke moved to the side to give Emma space to pass him. She had moved in the same direction and then back, their movements mirroring each other. Emma laughed awkwardly to dissipate the tension, but the Duke didn’t reciprocate.
“Your Grace,” she said.
“What are you doing?”
She furrowed her brow. He had a way of discouraging her with even the smallest of phrases. “What are you doing?”
The Duke looked around the staircase to see if they were alone. His gaze snapped back to her, his jaw jutting forward in aggravation. “I had the smallest ask of you,” he whispered sharply. “I have no issue with playing your beloved, but I asked you not to seek me out in solitude.”
“I am going to my bed chamber. I have no interest in allowing you to soil my reputation.”
“Good,” he said, eyes running over her body, head to toe, drinking her in as if he’d never seen a drop of water in his life.
“Quite good, indeed.”
He waited for her to still before he stepped onto the staircase, his shoulder brushing past her. She turned around, wondering if the touch was intentional. He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Miss Hale? Are you coming?”
“I—I have to change my gloves,” she showed off the stain on her wrist. He turned back, reaching out, his fingers trailing over hers. She closed her eyes, letting his touch send flutters through her and hitching her breath at the top of her chest.
He shook his head, lightly tugging at her hand. “Nonsense,” he said. “I need you to dance with me.” He let go of her hand, and it dropped back down to her side as if all the strength and resistance had been zapped out of her body. She nodded, throat bobbing.
She wrapped her fingers around his elbow, and he guided her back into the gallery. As they entered the room, the eyes of the guests were upon them. Everyone wanted a chance to see the Duke’s future bride, especially since, for so long, it seemed like he had very little interest in marrying. Emma felt strange that she might feel so many eyes on her. She knew she’d secured what others considered an enviable match. So many jealous eyes, and yet she herself was unsure of what was to come.
The Duke acted unbothered, as if they weren’t the subject of glances and whisperings. He led her to the floor, where couples were already dancing to a slow string melody. When they arrived on the floor, he wordlessly held out his palm. She matched him, their hands brushing but never quite touching. They followed the music, stepping in circles, their eyes meeting.
Emma had danced with many men before. She had carefully put her hands on their shoulders or on their arms. She had smiled at them politely as the violin trembled and the piano trilled. She had danced in sunlight, candlelight, and moonlight, yet nothing had compared to this.
His gaze was inescapable. Adam had said that there was something more. Perhaps he was the only one who truly knew of their ruse. After all, he knew exactly what the Duke thought of her. How could she ever explain to anyone that it was not affection or love but famine? She felt it too. If she couldn’t have him, she sometimes wondered if the hollowness in her chest would ever go away.
That wasn’t how Harriet described her feelings for Lord Northwick. It was never like that. It seemed that her love was butterflies and sunny days and warmth. This was impossibly different. Emma didn’t know what love was, but she was confident that this wasn’t it. And yet how strange that she still lost sleep over every touch they shared.
“Doesn’t it bother you,” she asked.
He regarded her inquisitively.
“The stares,” she said. “Everyone is watching.”
He shook his head. “Everyone is always watching, Miss Hale. If not the people around us, then God. So why must it bother me? I pay no mind.”
He stumbled. Emma followed suit and corrected herself. She gasped softly. “Are you well?” she asked.
He smiled sheepishly. “Two left feet,” he said, pulling her towards him while she backed away. They stumbled again, and Emma placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.
She laughed, snorting sharply as she tried to stay quiet. “It seems so!”
“Shh!” His cheek creased with smile lines as he laughed along with her, starting the dance back up. “I cannot let everyone know.”
“I thought you didn’t care what they thought.”
He swallowed his lips sheepishly. “Maybe that was a slight untruth.”
“Mm, because they can see you, Your Grace, in all your brick-footed elegance.”
He pursed his lips, smothering a smile. “Yes, but do you not reckon me clever enough to make it seem your fault?” he asked. “What is another foolish woman melting before my feet? You would not be the first.”
“I do not melt for you,” she said.
“Hm.” He nodded through half-lidded eyes. “Really, Miss Hale? That is what heat does.”
They quieted, getting back into the dance. Emma looked over her shoulder. Her eyes caught on another couple looking back at her and the Duke. They were being noticed, and from their point of view, it must have seemed that the two really were in love. The Duke made a good show of it.
And even so, Emma couldn’t help but furrow her brows in disappointment. “Is this—” She paused. “It is all part of the show?”
The Duke tilted his head. “The room is certain that we have formed an attachment.” He slipped his hand around her back, and she stiffened at his touch, his hand running up the fastenings of her dress and dancing across her bare skin. Her breath caught once more; every feeling of him against her made her desperately crave more than such a fleeting touch. “They are so certain, so can we be fooled along with them?”
She breathed in softly, fingers pressing into his shoulder blades as they spun. Perhaps with anyone else, she wouldn’t have danced so closely, but as he said, it was all part of the performance. His eyes wandered down to her mouth, and she turned her head away if only to avoid the frustration.
“I think that is impossible, Your Grace,” she said. “Why must we waste our time on fairytales? Should we accept the reality now, we will be better off for it.”
His smile dropped. “This is what you wanted, and now you have cold feet?”
“I do not,” she declared. “I would rather not let a simple game of pretend lead me into disappointment later.”
“How would that be?” he asked. “What would disappoint you?”
“As soon as we are married, you will cease to show me this regard.”
“Why assume that?” His fingertips brushed across her back once more. It was a secret touch. So small that only she knew it. For any other gentleman, it would have been brushed off as a simple mistake, but for the Duke, it was painfully intentional. “You are so firmly planted in reality. Let us make the best of this. Could you call off the guards for one evening?”
“Shall I remind you, Your Grace, that I did and found myself in a most disgraceful situation?”
“Mm.” He nodded, tight-lipped. The mention of their lack of control stilled him. “Rest assured that it will never happen again.”
Emma couldn’t help but look at his mouth. She caught herself, turning her cheek. “How can you be so convinced?”
“Miss Hale.” He smiled. The way he’d said her name with such a deliberate pause made her choke up. She breathed in sharply through her teeth, and his fingers brushed across her back, wrinkling the white dress beneath his fingers. “Can you not wait?”
Her nose wrinkled. But she quickly turned the look into a smile. She laughed pointedly, and only he could tell it was more biting than a slap across the face. “How droll.”
The music ended, and she curtsied at him. He led her off the dance floor. She looked around at the prying eyes. She spotted Harriet excitedly peeking over Lucy’s shoulder.
“Do you believe us to be convincing?” Emma asked.
“I am not convinced you love me,” he leaned into her ear.
“Not you.”
“Not to me? We must be the most fortunate couple alive, then.”
Adam smiled and waved them over. He raised an empty wine glass and tapped the stem with a butter knife. After some clinging, the room quieted and turned to him. Emma and the Duke stood beside him.
“Good evening,” Adam smiled. He waved back at some friends. “Good evening. Just a moment of your time.” He cleared his throat and waited for the room to still. “This is truly a wonderful evening of celebration. I want to extend my good wishes to my dear brother on his engagement with the lovely Miss Emma Hale.”
There were gasps of excitement and light clapping fluttering throughout the room. Emma looked up at the Duke, and he glanced down at her. He was stiff beside her, but he held her hand up as if it were the most delicate thing he’d ever held.
“To the Duke of Radford and the future Duchess!” Adam shouted, and at this, the crowd cheered excitedly. The quartet began playing an upbeat melody.
The Duke turned to Emma. “For this to be convincing, we will have to dance once more this evening, do you agree?”
She nodded, but inside, she wondered if she could withstand the torment of his hands holding her with purpose for that length of time again. And then she did not care. This was the last evening they would spend together before they were wed. Perhaps a dance would help her to see what good Adam saw under the Duke’s unwavering façade. “Why not now?”
He studied her with slightly narrowed eyes as if he was trying to figure her out. After what felt like too great a moment, he extended his hand, and she took it.
They made their way back onto the floor, where Adam had begun initiating a line dance for whichever guests wished to participate. Colin and Emma joined, palms touching, moving a circle around the other. Their heads stayed hovering over their shoulders, stares burning into the other as the music wavered through the air. “Miss Hale,” he asked.
She raised a brow.
“Are you prepared for your departure so soon?”
“I am,” she said. They only had one more day left together, but with all the guests, Emma had assumed she wouldn’t have much time with him the following day. Part of her was eager to return home, yet part of her was missing these little lies she was telling with His Grace. Sometimes, the way he treated her as part of their pretense made her feel something warm and genuine. How much of him was building on things he already felt, and how much of him was lying with ease? The thought made her chest twist and contract.
She might start to miss this because it couldn’t continue for much longer. The next couple of months she would spend planning her wedding without him. And the next time she would see him would be on her way to meet him at the altar.
“How shall we play our game from afar? Shall I send you flowers? Send for your likeness to be carved into every tree of London? Must I write you daily letters, each one more sentimental than the last?”
“That will not be necessary.”
“Maybe flowers.” He looked out of the corner of his eye as if he were already planning ahead. “Flowers would be proper.”
She swapped spaces in the line. Her hand was stacked in between Harriet’s and another gentleman’s. Together, they paraded in a circle on light feet.
“Do you see the way he looks at you?” Harriet whispered harshly.
Emma hadn’t meant to blush, but against her own will, her cheeks reddened. “I do,” she said.
“That is the look of a man in love!” Harriet explained.
“Love?” Emma asked, looking back at the Duke.
“Are you not?”
“I—” Emma straightened. “I am, but I overthink whether he feels as strongly as I.”
“The admiration is undeniable,” their partner chimed in. Emma and Harriet looked at him, and he swiftly apologized for nudging himself into the conversation.
The line swapped again, and Emma joined the Duke.
He caught her elegantly. “What do you consider to be the basis for a successful marriage?”
She widened her eyes at the sudden question. “Friendship,” she said. “Do we not all crave a partner? Someone who understands us. Who can laugh with us through all the best and worst that life will throw our way? That is what I desire.”
The Duke nodded, and they swapped, taking the partner beside them. Adam was next in line. He had just as much unrelenting energy as when they’d danced earlier. He put his hand on top of hers, and they swayed with the music. He smiled at her gayly, enjoying the music with his whole body. “Miss Hale, even I might be convinced you’ve done something to my brother. Maybe I was wrong after all.”
Emma’s eyes widened “Shh!”
He passed her back to the Duke, and she stumbled into him. He pressed his hands around her waist and caught her. He was quick to let her go.
“Who is the most appalling dancer of the ton now?” he asked. She corrected herself, and they swayed back and forth with the other couples before going into a simple box step. “Friendship is the basis, you said. So, what is it that friends do, Emma?”
She shook her head, stilling completely at the sound of her name on his lips. “Your Grace—I—”
“Call me Colin. That is what friends would do.”
Emma nodded, the music fluttering out slowly. She looked up at him, caught off guard. Was Harriet right? Was what everyone saw real? Maybe he cared for her.
He looked down at her, his eyes flickering between her mouth and her eyes. “You are looking at me in that way I despise,” he whispered.
She stepped back, snapped out her of trance, and looked away.
As he walked past her, his fingers brushed across the inside of her wrist and across her waist. She turned and watched him walk away. She looked back down, her glove still stained from the wine. She had been so worried, but despite it actually being clearly visible, it was the last thing about Emma Hale on everyone’s mind.