Page 102 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
He hesitated, then added, “Write to me when you arrive. I want to know that you are well.”
She nodded and stepped inside the carriage. A footman closed the door behind her, and she sat on a bench beside Daisy, who passed her the copy ofMansfield Parkshe’d been reading.
Emma held the book tightly and gazed out the window as the coachman prepared the carriage, and then they began to inchforward. Vaughan stood in front of Ashford Hall, his hands at his sides and his eyes straight ahead.
As they drew away, Emma raised her hand and waved at him. He did not wave back, although the slight tilt of his head could have been a nod of acknowledgement.
To Emma’s absolute horror, as soon as he was out of sight, she burst into tears.
Across the carriage, Mr. Mayhew stared at her, aghast.
“Oh, dear,” Violet murmured.
“There, now,” Daisy said, patting her shoulder.
The comfort didn’t help. Emma only cried harder.
This had never been what she’d pictured as her life. She’d wanted a house full of laughter and happy children. She’d longed to share secret smiles with her husband and lie down with him at the end of the day.
She’d never wanted this.
She had a husband. Even one who was kind and thoughtful. She had a grand house, the likes of which she’d never dreamed of. But that bright future she’d envisioned?
It was ashes.
“I’m so sorry,” Violet said, reaching out as if to take Emma’s hand, only to drop her own when she realized the distance between them was too great. “Is there anything I can do?”
Daisy slung her arm around Emma’s shoulders, and despite their audience, Emma leaned against her maid.
“Let your feelings out,” Daisy urged. “It does you no good to bottle everything inside.”
Even through her damp eyelashes, Emma could see enough of Mr. Mayhew’s expression to realize he wished shewouldkeep her feelings bottled up. There was no stopping them, though. As soon as they were uncorked, they’d become impossible to contain.
Eventually, she ran out of tears. Daisy mopped her cheeks, and Emma thanked her profusely and then buried her face in a book, too embarrassed by her behavior to engage with the others.
Night had fallen by the time they reached the Mayhew estate and turned onto the path that would lead them to the dowager house, where Violet and Mr. Mayhew were to reside.
Lord Mayhew and several servants met them in front of the reasonably sized brownstone house with a slate roof and ivy growing up the wall.
“This is to be our home,” Mr. Mayhew said to Violet as they disembarked.
“It’s lovely,” Violet said.
It was. It wasn’t nearly the same scale as Ashford Hall—in fact, it would fit inside the hall several times over—but it had a charming garden and an unassuming exterior.If Emma had been brought to this house by her husband, she’d have been pleased, and while she knew Violet had once harbored larger aspirations, to her credit, she seemed to like it.
Lord Mayhew greeted his son with a handshake and then gave Violet a slight bow and Emma a deeper one.
“Welcome home,” he said. “Your Grace, a guest bedroom has been prepared for you.”
“Thank you,” Emma said.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Mayhew.” He arched his thick eyebrows as if that address was going to take some getting used to.
Lord Mayhew introduced them to the servants, including the housekeeper, Mrs. McPhee, two maids, a cook, and a footman. Once introductions were completed, he took his leave and returned to the main residence.
Mrs. McPhee addressed Daisy as he departed. “There is space for you in the servants’ quarters. I’ll show you where togo once I have escorted Her Grace and Mr. and Mrs. Mayhew to their quarters.”
“You may show her there directly,” Mr. Mayhew said, raising multiple eyebrows. He drew Violet into his arms. “Let me give you the tour myself, my beloved.”
