Page 26 of A Duke to Steal Her
“Goodnight, my lady,” he added quietly.
“Goodnight, Your Grace,” she managed.
When his footsteps finally faded down the corridor, Emily placed her hands back on the keys and began to play again.
Tomorrow she would go home. Tomorrow she would resume her life as if these days at Nightfell had never happened.
This is finally over.
The thought should have filled her with joy.
Instead, it felt like the end of something she’d only just begun to understand.
“My darling girl! Let me look at you properly.”
Lady Ridgewell enveloped Emily in a cloud of lavender perfume and maternal anxiety, holding her at arm’s length to examine her face with worried eyes. Her mother’s hands fluttered overher cheeks, her hair, her shoulders, as if ensuring she was truly whole.
“I’m perfectly well, Mama,” Emily said gently.
“Are you? Are you truly?” Lady Ridgewell’s voice trembled, one gloved hand fluttering dramatically to her chest. “When His Grace told us what happened, I nearly fainted.”
“She wasn’t a scandal, Mama,” Ava cut in sharply, crossing the drawing room to pull Emily into a fierce embrace. “She was recovering. Look at her: she’s safe, she’s well, and frankly, she looks better than I’ve seen her in years.”
Emily returned her sister’s hug gratefully. Ava’s practical warmth was exactly what she needed after her mother’s dramatics.
“Indeed,” her uncle Francis, the current Earl of Ridgewell, said from his position by the fireplace, his tone considerably less welcoming. “Though one might question the circumstances that led to such a… prolonged absence.”
Emily’s spine stiffened. “Uncle.”
“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady.” Lord Ridgewell’s weathered face was stern with disapproval. “Disappearing days before your wedding day and for two weeks after that, without a word! Do you have any idea the scandal you could have caused? The damage to this family’s reputation?”
“Uncle. We should be grateful my sister has returned to us unharmed,” Juliana warned, moving to stand beside Emily.
“No, Juliana. Someone must address this properly.” Uncle Francis stepped forward, his voice rising. “Emily’s thoughtless actions could have ruined us all. What if the story hadn’t held? What if?—”
“That’s quite enough.” Juliana’s voice cut like steel, her status as duchess evident. “Emily has been through an ordeal. She doesn’t need lectures from you.”
“The immediate crisis has passed, my lord,” Vincent said calmly. “The family’s reputation remains intact for now.”
“For now,” Uncle Francis muttered.
“Which we have dear Vincent to thank for, mind you,” Ava interjected. “It was his influence that solidified the story of Emily’s illness.”
Uncle Francis bristled but nodded in acknowledgement towards Juliana’s husband.
“Emily must return to society in a few weeks,” the Duke continued smoothly. “A gradual reintroduction will demonstrate that she has nothing to hide. I’ve already spoken with Dr. Pemberton; he’s been quite helpful in spreading word of your sudden illness among his patients. The story is taking hold nicely.”
Emily felt a rush of gratitude toward her brother-in-law. “Thank you, Your Grace. I know this has been difficult for everyone.”
Vincent nodded curtly. “We protect our own.”
Before Uncle Francis could launch into another lecture, the drawing room door burst open.
“Emily!”
Georgina flew across the room like a whirlwind, her auburn curls bouncing as she threw herself into Emily’s arms with the enthusiasm of an overgrown puppy.
“Gina!” Emily laughed, staggering slightly under the force of her youngest sister’s embrace. “Careful, darling! You’ll knock me over.”
