Page 40 of A Spinster for the Rakish Duke
He needed to get to Emma as soon as he could.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Here you go dear,” Aunt Barbara set the steaming cup of tea in front of Emma. “I know what you are going through is hard. And I thought you could use something to help you put the color back in your cheeks...”
“Oh, thank you, Aunt Barbara,” Emma said, turning the cup, so that she could take it by the handle but giving it a minute to cool.
The night had been a long one, but even after the family had gotten Benjamin to bed, Emma could not find it in her to seek rest for herself. Her father was restless as well but had bid them goodnight only a short while ago, leaving just Emma and her aunt.
“It shouldn’t be too hot,” Barbara ensured her.
“Hmm? Oh, that’s okay. You always take your tea a bit hotter than I prefer. I’ll just give it a little time,” Emma said with a small smile.
“Of course,” her aunt nodded. After a brief pause, she suddenly spoke again. “I know we have been at odds for some time in regard to your betrothal. But I know how trying this has all been to you, so I was hoping we could let things go back to normal.”
“I think I would like that,” Emma said with a smile, and she spoke truthfully. Having her old Aunt Barbara back would certainly make life seem a little more normal again.
“That was, in part, why I brought you the tea. It is supposed to be... I guess you could say a kind of peace offering,” her aunt said, her voice again earnest.
“Oh, I see,” Emma said. She wanted to provide her aunt with some peace of mind that things could indeed return to how they once were. She raised the steaming cup gently to her lips, the tea still steaming when a sudden, very loud knock startled both of the women and caused Emma to drop her teacup.
The cup survived the fall, but the tea covered the rug. “Oh drat,” she said with a sigh before more insistent knocking derailed her thoughts of cleaning it up. “Who could be knocking so rudely at this hour? Have they no consideration for others?”
Emma went to answer the door. Her father descended the stairs, blinking sleepily behind her.
“What’s with all the noise?” he asked, clearly concerned at the hour.
Neither Emma nor her father noticed that Aunt Barbara wasn’t listening to them, but instead staring at the spilled tea on the floor. Emma opened the door and gasped to see Donovan standing there, breathing heavily. He looked so relieved to see her that both she and her father let it slide when he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.
“Thank heavens, I was worried I would be too late,’ he said softly as he held her.
Alistair trailed his brother, looking more than a bit uncomfortable being in a home uninvited in which he had never been before.
“Your Grace, given the hour and the circumstances, I am afraid I must demand an explanation,” Emma’s father insisted as he trod towards the embraced couple.
“Of course, Mr. Bradford,” Donovan said, stepping away from his speechless betrothed. “I have been released, my brother proving that I was being impersonated. The impersonator, one Mr. Dole, instructed them to hold Mr. Bradford in my basement.”
“What?” Emma asked.
“So, it was retaliation for marrying Duke Lowe instead?” Emma’s father asked, voice filled with confusion.
“No,” Emma shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense, Benjamin disappeared before I truly became involved with His Grace. But then, why?” she asked Donovan desperately.
“Mr. Dole was just a puppet, in it for the money. He is a contemptuous man, greedy, and a coward, but he didn’t have the will to put all these parts together. That required someone to orchestrate. Miss Barbara Johnson was the one directing Mr. Dole,” Donovan said, leveling the full force of his accusation towards the older woman in the back of the room.
She had only just turned to face Donovan, and her face remained calm and unmoved at the Duke’s words.
Her brother-in-law let out a short laugh. “Donovan, I think things are getting a bit absurd. I’ve known Barbara for years. She helped raise the children. The idea that she would consider harming them is ludicrous.”
Emma looked at her betrothed worriedly. She trusted Donovan beyond almost anyone, but this accusation was hard to believe. Barbara continued to say nothing as if to defend herself from that sort of accusation was below her. It didn’t matter to Donovan.
“I wish I didn’t need to show you all this,” Donovan said handing a parcel of papers to Mr. Bradford. It was much smaller than the one Alistair had brought with them to Lowe Manor and tied withred twine. Mr. Bradford pulled the thread, freeing the contents, and began to thumb through it. His face became paler, his hands shaking harder as he read more and more.
Still, Barbara said nothing.
“Father? What does it say?” Emma asked. Her words were desperate, but she wasn’t looking at her father. She wasn’t even looking at her aunt. Emma’s eyes had been drawn to the teacup that still lay on its side on the floor. The bottom of the cup was thick with a residue that, at a glance, resembled tea leaves. But with the cup empty, Emma saw now that the substance was thicker and slightly discolored.
Mr. Bradford held the letters closely to his chest, out of Emma’s reach. His lips were tight with anger as he stared at Barbara. “Is this true?” he asked her, his voice a whisper.
