Page 27 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
He focused on the newspaper, and it was only when he heard footsteps in the hallway that he realised he must have been focusing for a few minutes. He looked up to see Grandma there.
“Grandma!” he greeted her, a little confused. “You ought to be resting.”
Grandma smiled and shook her head. “I feel much better. I thought I’d come and sit in the sun and maybe read a book,” she said, glancing at Emmeline.
Andrew nodded. “Of course, Grandma,” he said at once. It was pleasant to see her up and about. Usually, she rested in her chamber from five o’clock until dinnertime.
He watched as Grandma went to the sunnier part of the room, where Emmeline was sitting, and took a seat beside her. His brow lifted as Emmeline turned to her with a friendly smile on her face.
“Lady Rilendale. Should I ring for some tea?” she asked.
Grandma smiled warmly back at her. “If you like, dear,” she said in a caring tone. “I have already had a cup, but I would not say no to another.”
“Very well,” Emmeline said, casting a dazzling grin in Grandma’s direction. “I will ring at once.”
She stood and went to the bell pull. Andrew sat where he was, feeling bemused. Emmeline’s smile was still bedazzling him, and he could not think properly. He watched as Emmeline came back to where she was sitting and lifted her sewing. She frowned at the fine stitches. Grandma leaned in towards her.
“Whitework.” Grandma sounded pleased. “So stylish, I believe. If the Ladies’ Gazette is anything to credit, that is.” She grinned.
“It is. Very modish,” Emmeline agreed with a smile. “But it is terribly difficult. Even with such good light, I find it very hard.”
Grandma beamed. “I’m sure, dear,” she replied. “But it will look so very fine. You’re making cuffs, yes?”
“Yes. For my favourite winter dress,” Emmeline replied lightly.
“It will look very pretty,” Grandma assured her.
Andrew observed them with a mixture of curiosity and unease. Emmeline and his grandmother had already established a comfortable rapport, their conversation flowing effortlessly. By contrast, any attemptat discourse between himself and Emmeline felt awkward, their exchanges rarely extending beyond a few strained words.
He looked up as the butler came in, feeling slightly annoyed.Why is it that Grandma can succeed where I am bitterly failing?He asked himself.
“My lord? My ladies?” Mr Pearson smiled, pausing in the doorway. “You rang?”
“Please bring tea, Mr Pearson,” Grandma told him in a matter-of-fact voice. She seemed rather livelier than she had for a long time. Perhaps, Andrew thought a little sadly, she was pleased not to be rattling around the house by herself, as she often said.
“At once, my lady.”
Andrew watched as Mr Pearson withdrew. He looked down at his hands. He had worn the skin terribly gripping the reins and he knew it was because he was worried. He would not usually grip them so tightly, often relying on his knees to guide his horse instead.
I wonder what Emmeline is like as a rider,he wondered, recalling his conversation with Neville. He frowned, wondering how he might manage to ask her. He was just framing the sentence in his mind when Mr Pearson interrupted again.
“Tea, my lord. My ladies.”
“Oh! Grand. And some cake. Thank you, Mr Pearson,” Grandma said kindly.
Andrew watched as Grandma and Emmeline helped one another with the tea as if he was not even in the room. He could not help but feel a bit annoyed. They seemed to have made friends remarkably quickly, and they were both so absorbed in chatting to each other that they had forgotten him. He cleared his throat.
As he did so, he heard another sound. Grandma, choking.
“Grandma!” he shouted, leaping out of his chair.
She had been eating a piece of pound cake, and she must have swallowed too fast because she was coughing and spluttering, the little silver fork she had held falling out of her hand and onto the floor.
Andrew rushed to her side, but before he could get there, Emmeline was patting Grandma on the back, speaking in a soothing voice.
“It’s all well, Lady Rilendale. Can you speak?” she asked.
“I...I...” Grandma tried to stammer, then gasped. Andrew let out a sigh of relief as she gasped again and managed to say a rasping word. “Choking...”
