Page 26 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
Chapter 10
Andrew walked into the drawing room. It was late and he was weary and drained. He’d spent the day riding. Before the midday meal, he’d ridden to London to meet with his solicitor. After a few hours, he’d ridden back. Luncheon had been swift and silent—he'd barely exchanged a word with Emmeline—and then he’d ridden off again to call on Neville. He sat down heavily on one of the sturdier chairs. He was exhausted.
His mind drifted back to his conversation earlier with Neville.
“Is the new Lady Rilendale going to accompany us on a ride?” Neville asked.
“I have no idea if she would wish to,” Andrew had said slowly. He knew that Emmeline could ride, since he had seen her riding that day on the heath. But he had never actually asked her about it, or even asked if she liked the sport.
“Andrew!” Neville stared at him.
“What?” Andrew asked with a shrug. He was doing his best to maintain his distance from Emmeline. In his own mind, that was the best, kindest thing he could do for her. Did Neville think that was wrong?
“Andrew! You mean, you don’t even know if she can ride or not?” Neville was shocked.
“She can,” Andrew said with some annoyance. “I’ve seen her.”
“But you didn’t ask? You don’t even know what sort of pastimes she likes?”
Andrew glared at him. “I didn’t ask you for lessons in conversation.”
Neville blinked. “All the more reason for me to offer them.”
Andrew almost swore at him, but then he saw Neville’s eyes sparkle and he had to laugh. His laughter eased the tension.
“You know, you can get close to her,” Neville had said after a few minutes of banter.
Andrew shook his head, his tension returning instantly. “No, I cannot,” he told Neville a little crossly. “You know that.”
“You mean, because you think you carry some kind of curse?” Neville asked him. His gaze held Andrew’s own.
Andrew tensed, thinking Neville was going to mock him as he so often did, but this time Neville’s face was set in a serious expression.
“Yes,” Andrew said firmly.
Neville nodded. “I know. But you have to try, old chap,” he said firmly. “You have to try.”
Neville just looked at him, and Andrew knew that he did not comprehend the terror that he was facing. They had ridden back to the estate in silence.
Andrew stretched his legs out, the sound of someone wheeling a trolley down the hallway bringing his mind back to the present. The butler walked past, and Andrew relaxed further, seeing the usual comings and goings of the house. It was the usual time that Grandma took tea in her chambers. His eyes moved to the clock on the mantel, and he grinned, seeing it was exactly five o’clock. Some things were the same every day.
He reached for the paper and flipped through it. It was last week’s copy of the Gazette, and he’d already read all the articles at least once. He gazed at it again to make sure that he had not missed anything and then put it idly on the table again. As he did so, he heard a noise in the hallway, and he looked up with surprise.
“Emmeline,” he murmured.
Emmeline was in the doorway. She tensed as if she had not expected to see him there. She had her drawstring purse on her arm, and he frowned, wondering what she was doing.
“Um...Andrew,” she replied, her eyes wide, her brow furrowing. “I...I will go to my room. I do not want to intrude...”
Andrew tensed, feeling upset by how scared she seemed. “You can come in if you wish,” he said, wincing at how ungracious that comment sounded.
“I just wished to do some sewing,” Emmeline stammered. “And the light is good here at this time of day.” She gestured to the window.
“Oh. Come in,” Andrew said, his heart twisting. She was so lovely, and she looked so scared of him. She was wearing a long blue gown—the same gown she’d been wearing that morning, now that he thought about it. The bodice was close-fitting, the skirt loose and drifting as was the usual style. Her figure was slim but when she walked, she swayed like a reed and his cheeks flushed with heat.
Emmeline took a seat by the window, and opened her bag, taking out a section of white fabric and some cotton. He watched her thread a needle and then settle down to her work. She ignored him utterly.
A fine way to be friendly, Andrew thought crossly. He bit his lip, knowing he had been no more friendly than she was now. He pushed theguilt aside and grabbed the newspaper, pretending to be interested in an article about the spice trade.
