Page 18 of The Marquess's Scandalous Game
Of course, you did!
Emma stood, and without glancing at her father or saying another word, she exited the library. It took all her self-control not to slam the door behind her. Emma’s blood pounded in her ears and her hands shook. Each step she took down the stairs caused her feet to tingle and her vision to blur. She had gone straight from the library to the garden, for she had to escape the confines of the house. As she opened the door, the cool air rushed to greet her, and it was only then that she realized that sweat beaded down her forehead. She took a deep breath and tried to control her shaking hands.
A torrent of emotions flooded through her. She was anxious but also angry. She did not want to be mean to her father, but this was not a situation in which they needed to find themselves.
“Gambling is a rakish pursuit.” There, she said it. She was alone in the garden so she would not be overheard. “I am so hurt and disappointed by what my father has done. How could he make such mindless decisions!” Emma thought of Cora, William, Anna, Louise, and Percy, which only made her feel worse. At least they were never far from her mind, unlike her father.
“The children cannot be made to suffer.” She sighed heavily as she walked among the flowers. The beauty of the garden was unnoticed today.
“My father’s rakish behavior has done nothing but lead me to another rake, Lord Adlington. I do not want to be his marchioness, for it will be incompatible with being a healer. I cannot exist in both worlds. It is impossible. Polite society would never tolerate it, and my husband would not accept it!”
If Emma were to marry, her first choice would be a gentleman who would be more understanding of her ideals. Lord Adlington wasnothim. If she agreed to wed Lord Adlington, her family would retain their position in society, and she would not need to contemplate a fall from grace … for what a fall it wouldbe. They had no relatives that would provide charity for the entire family. Exile would be unbearable, so she had little choice.
Emma stopped on the garden path. “Must I wed Lord Adlington and, in doing so, sacrifice my calling?” The flowers had no answers for her. Emma thought not. “I will not succumb quietly and be resigned to my fate. Imustmarry Lord Adlington. I have no choice, but I will be damned if I let him take healing away from me.Never.”
Given that Lord Adlington had decided to force her into this marriage, she would pursue her healing regardless of his objections. Having made her decision, Emma felt more at peace. She returned to the house and retired to her bedchamber.
Emma awoke to sunshine filtering through the curtains the following morning, but she did not feel rested. She had tossed and turned all night.
Emma came down to breakfast and found her father was at the table. She was sure he was only too anxious to know her decision.
“Good morning, Father.” Emma gave him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before she took her seat.
Her father’s gaze appraised her and rested the paper he was reading beside his teacup. “Good morning, Emma. I am pleased to see you are well. You did not come down to supper yesterday.”
“There was much on my mind, Father. I considered Lord Adlington’s proposal and I will accept.” Her words were hollow to her ears.
Her father smiled. “I am pleased to hear you say that, my dear. I have already sent word to Lord Adlington asking him to join us for afternoon tea.”
“I see. I did what was right for the family, which should make you happy, for you were keen for me to wed,” Emma said.
“That I was. It was my intention for you to choose your husband, Emma. Fate had other plans for us, but I do not believeLord Adlington will be bad for you. He is wealthy and connected. He is astute in matters of business, and he appears to be an honorable man. It was within his power to make me bow down to him, but he treated me with dignity. Do you not see?” her father asked.
Emma felt guilty and did not know why. “I do, Father. I suppose I am grateful that we will have security.”
Her father reached for his cup of tea but returned it to the saucer. “I am truly sorry, Emma. I had hoped your mother and I would grow old together, but it was not to …”
Emma reached out and squeezed her father’s hand. “I understand, Father. We must be positive, for we have better days ahead.”
Emma desperately wanted it to be so, but doubt plagued her mind.
CHAPTER 9
Emma stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was impeccably dressed in a blue silk embroidered gown, and her hair was elaborately arranged atop her head with pins. A few curls were left to cascade over her neck and shoulders. Rubies were the jewels that she chose for the Fredrick’s ball this evening. Her stomach churned at the thought of seeing Lord Adlington again when her arm was so firmly twisted into this marriage. She gave a small sigh as she stared at her pink cheeks. She should not bemoan any further because there was naught to be done to change it. It did not make the circumstances any less frustrating.
Emma descended the stairs and joined her father in the waiting carriage. A pang of affection made her smile at him. As the carriage rolled down the cobbled streets, her stomach churned. Lord Adlington had shown that he could be ruthless, cunning, and shrewd. He was perfectly capable of doing anything to get whatever he wanted.
Emma bit her bottom lip. Perhaps she should not rush to judgment since she had plans to continue with her pursuit. She was putting herself on a collision course with him, but she didnot give a fiddle. He was determined to have her, so he shall, but it will not be only what he has picked. It will be all of her.
Shortly thereafter, they arrived at the Fredrick’s ball and departed the carriage. Her father led the way to the elegant front door of the townhouse, where they were welcomed. As they made their way inside, Emma saw the crowd. Her father stopped, greeted groups of people as they milled around, and moved forward through the crush.
She was certain that she felt several pairs of eyes bore into her. Emma already felt the warmth of the room. Ever since they arrived, she had been scouring the room for Lord Adlington and, at that moment, she found him and their gazes locked. He cut a dashing figure, and she was sure his gaze gentled when he saw her. He looked at her as if no one else existed, and she felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. No one else had ever looked at her in that way, and she quickly averted her eyes.
She was annoyed with herself because she was trying not to gaze at him, yet she did. When Emma looked up again, he was sauntering towards her, his shoulders back and chin held high. His swagger denoted his determination. His physique made him formidable, and he could easily intimidate an opponent. He was unabashedly handsome, and she caught her breath as a flicker of awareness tightened in her stomach. She had an aversion to the situation he had placed her in, so why was she appreciating his good looks?
“Good evening, Buckden,” Lord Adlington said before he turned his gaze to her.
“How wonderful to see you again, Lord Adlington. You are glowing with health,” her father said.
