Page 97 of His Tempting Duchess

Emily flashed her sister a fond smile. All evening, her family had been like a bristling, protective hedge around her, glowering at anybody who dared to mention the scandal sheetsor the newspapers.

They hadn’t been able to protect her from the disapproving glares and loud tuts, of course, but she had always known she was going to have to weather those.

Anna disappeared into the throng, but Daphne paused, then inched closer, putting a hand on her twin’s shoulder. “Do you want me to stay, Emily?” she whispered. “Where is the duke, by the way? He is your husband. I would have thought he would be here.”

Emily bit the inside of her cheek, mustering a faint smile. “Cassian has done a great deal for me. It was his idea, this party, and so far it seems to be a great success.”

Daphne eyed her for a long moment, a faint frown on her face.

“We are twins, you know,” she said. “Our lives might be diverging a little, but I still knowyou, Emily. And I know when you are hiding something from me.”

Emily swallowed, not meeting her twin’s eyes. “Not now, Daff,” she whispered.

Daphne’s jaw tightened, but she nodded, stepping away. “As you like, Emmie. Just know that when you are ready to talk, I am here.”

Emily nodded. “Thank you.”

And just like that, Daphne melted back into the crowd, her husband hot on her heels, and Emily was left alone.

Well, notalone. One couldn’t possibly be alone in a crowd like that. She took a moment to compose herself, glancing around.

People were standing in clusters in front of her paintings and sketches, eyeing them curiously, their eyes wide, murmuring amongst themselves.

“You’re a talented woman,” came a familiar voice at her elbow.

Emily glanced up to find Margaret standing beside her, a glass of champagne in her hand.

“Thank you,” she managed. “Is Frances here?”

“Yes, she is. I lost her in the crowd, but I believe she intended to take a good look at all of your pictures. She is quite astounded, I must say. I suspect that when we get home, she will dig out all of her art supplies and begin drawing and painting again.” Margaret paused, chuckling. “I daresay she’ll do very well. Frances excels at whatever she puts her mind to. I often wonder how I came to have such a beautiful, sweet, and talented child.”

“You do yourself a disservice,” Emily found herself saying. “You were an opera singer, were you not? That is a remarkable talent, one that I do not possess. And you are beautiful and intelligent.”

Margaret eyed her for a long moment, saying nothing.

The two women stood side by side, angled as if to stare up at Emily’s seascape. It was framed by carved, dark wood, making the picture look darker than it already was. The focus of the image was, of course, the boat in the middle of the tumultuous sea, tilted dangerously to one side and taking on water.

Several sailors were frantically bailing out the water, their eyes wide with terror, while others clung to the masts and rigging, fear written all over their faces. A young man, barely more than a boy, crouched on the prow of the ship, peering down at the dark water below, almost meditatively. He alone was the only one not terrified.

“I do not mean you any harm, you know,” Margaret murmured, her voice so quiet that Emily could barely hear her over the roar of the crowd. “You seem to be a nice woman. But I saw how you looked at Cassian, and I simply had to warn you away. He… he has been good to me and Frances, but he is not a man to be trusted. He had his heart broken irrevocably when he was a child.”

“You mean his brother’s death?”

Margaret’s throat worked. “Yes,” she whispered. “Some people can deal with heartbreak well enough. Cassian is not one of those people. He withdrew into himself, and when he emerged, he was hard and cold and fearless. Hecannotlove. I have known him for years, and he has had mistresses and such. Not astaggeringnumber, but some of them did have hopes of becoming the Duchess of Clapton one day. All of them were disappointed, of course. I believe that one or two of them did love him, but their feelings were never reciprocated. He can do that, you see. He can turn his back on those who love him. I… I fear not for myself but for Frances. She adores him. But now that he has a wife, children will soon follow, and I cannot help but wonder… Well, enough of that.”

She turned to face Emily, her expression serious.

“You do not deserve heartbreak,” she continued. “You are the duchess, and that is a fine thing. I imagine he likes you a good deal, and that is good. Keep your heart to yourself, and you’ll live a comfortable life. That is what I did with the Baron. I know how important security is to a woman. Keep your head, and you shall be quite all right. You are lucky to be a lady, you know. He cannot cast you out when he’s tired of you. You can have him in your bed and your parlor if you wish, but you will not have him to yourself.”

There was a pause, and Emily was sure she was meant to say something, but she simply couldnotsummon the words.

Margaret’s expression softened, and she put a hand on her shoulder. “I do not mean to be unkind,” she said carefully. “I only want you to avoid the mistakes I made. I fell in love with Matthew, and I…” She paused, sounding a little choked up. “I still feel the pain of it. Hedidlove me, and I betrayed him, but now I must live without him. Living without the one you love is a most singular and agonizing pain. Listen to me, Emily, and take heed.”

There was a brief pause between them.

“Do you regret it?” Emily whispered. “I know you do not regret Frances, but do you regret being in love with Matthew?”

Margaret held her gaze for a long moment, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

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