Page 10 of The Marquess's Scandalous Game
She had agreed to receive Lord Adlington’s attention, and she would. The marquess did not know her attention was all he would get.Nothing more. Emma wondered how he would react when he discovered she had no intention of marrying him.
CHAPTER 5
Emma sat in the drawing room the following afternoon, waiting for Lord Adlington. He had already arrived and was sequestered in the library with her father. They had been there for quite some time, and she wondered what they could possibly be speaking about for so long. She hoped her father would not over-commit. She pretended to read a book while waiting but could not concentrate. She wanted to know so much, for she knew next to nothing about the marquess.
Finally, there was a knock on the door, and the butler entered, followed by Lord Adlington. His physique was so imposing that he filled the doorway. Emma touched a loose tendril of her hair and brushed it behind her ear. She found herself extremely conscious of his virile appeal. Emma stood, and he bowed as they greeted each other. Jenna, her lady’s maid, entered and sat in the far corner of the room.
“Please have a seat,” Emma motioned to the sofa, and he sat. “May I offer you some tea?”
“Thank you, Miss Corbett.”
Emma poured a cup of tea for Lord Adlington and one for herself. It was only when she handed him the teacup that sherealized how large his hands were. He had impossibly enormous hands, which made the teacup seem ridiculously small. There was strength in those hands, but they were not hard, never knowing a day of manual labor. His wrist was strong, knuckles prominent, fingers long and slender with nails that were short and well-kept.
She wondered what those hands would feel like upon her skin. What would it feel like if he caressed her? Were his palms soft, hard, or ridged? Would his hands be lightly stroking, warm, and intimate? Emma drew in a sharp breath at the thought. She lifted her gaze from his hands to his face, and their eyes locked. Emma flushed and quickly looked away.
“Your father tells me you have agreed to my courting, Miss Corbett.”
His gaze lingered on her, and she took a sip of tea, willing her hands not to shake. Why did he make her feel so unsettled? She was not a faint-hearted lady. One could not be when you were tending to the sick. She had known the misery of the sick and dying. Influenza, typhus, typhoid, diphtheria, smallpox, and cholera have claimed many lives. Yet, his mere gaze was causing her to react so.
“I was hoping we could discuss this further, my lord. I feel uncertain, for I am virtually a stranger to you, as you are to me. I was hoping you would tell me a bit about yourself,” Emma said. With more knowledge of the marquess she would better know how to outmaneuver him.
He placed his teacup on the table. She sensed he was struggling to keep a calm demeanor; he kept his chin raised and took shallow breaths in an attempt to breathe naturally. She knew something was wrong, for the fingers she admired a moment ago twitched, and his hands showed a slight tremor. He tightly clasped his hands, swallowed, cleared his throat, and began.
“A few years ago, I lost my parents and siblings to cholera. It was a devastating blow.”
Emma’s heart wrenched. This she had not expected. “I am sorry for your loss, my lord.” She indeed felt empathy for him. How could she not? He had lost everything.
Emma continued in a sympathetic voice. “Even with my years of experience as a healer, the first outbreak of cholera had slightly shaken my resolve.”
She recalled the progress of the disease was so swift that anyone struck by it was terrified. It was quite a spectacle. Yet she did not say so to him, not wanting him to have any notions of his family being so scared. Emma remembered the progress well. First, two or three people died of diarrhea, which increased in intensity and became accompanied by painful retching, thirst and dehydration, severe pain in the limbs, stomach, and abdominal muscles, and a change in skin hue to a sort of bluish-gray. It became known as the blue death, and it was frightful.
Lord Adlington frowned. “It was indeed frightening for many. The physicians were baffled, and they spoke of it constantly. The other plagues we had experienced were home-bred and part of our lives by then, as it were. We had a habit of looking at them with a fatal indifference, indeed, in as much as it led us to believe that they could be effectually subdued.”
“You are right, my lord,” Emma said as she resisted the urge to reach out and take his hand.
The blue death was something outlandish, unknown, monstrous; its tremendous ravages, so long foreseen and feared.
“May I ask, my lord; how did you escape its contagion?”
Lord Adlington’s eyes became unfocused. “I was abroad. I first learned of the havoc it brought to France. Its journey was an insidious march over whole continents, and we had heard of it long before it reached our shores in England. Yet, so little of its ravages could be explained.”
Emma recalled that the mere utterance of its name invested it with a mystery and a terror that thoroughly took hold of people’s minds. As if those severe consequences were not enough, influenza had come along and swept away those weakened by the blue death.
Emma could only imagine how he felt when he discovered he had lost everyone dear to him. Instantly, she recalled the change that came over Lord Adlington at the Livingston’s ball. His disposition had changed dramatically when she mentioned healing; finally, she understood why. He must be terribly lonely. She had felt such a sense of abandonment and to think that she had only lost her mother.
Her gaze swept over his face. His lips were tight, and his eyes held such sadness.
“Miss Corbett, I did not mention this to gain your sympathy but rather to explain why I wish to wed. I have been alone in the world ever since they passed, and it is time that I did something about it.”
“I see,” Emma said softly.
Lord Adlington took a sip of his tea and peered at her over his cup. “I thought to take a wife before. That was when I met Lady Felecia, but unfortunately, because of her actions, things did not take their natural course. I withdrew from society. Now, I have returned, and I feel fortunate to have met you.
Emma felt warm inside. She remembered the overwhelming need to reach out, to touch and hold him at the ball. The touch of her hand on his arm could have been comforting. She knew what it was like to lose someone you love. Her pain had been almost too much to bear. What of him? Caring for her family had seen her through her dark days, but he did not have that easement.
“I was not pitying you, my lord. My father may have mentioned to you that I lost my mother, and it was my responsibility that gave me some peace.”
His brows furrowed and he tilted his head. “Whatever do you mean?”
