Page 6 of A Duke to Undo her
“Stop trying to foist your responsibilities on to me for one damned night, Cassius,” Benedict told him severely. “I didn’t ask to be your heir, but I’ll have to be if you refuse to behave like a normal man and get yourself a wife and children. That still doesn’t mean that you get to choose my wife. Choose one for yourself!”
Benedict spoke as if marrying and having children was the simplest thing in the world. Well, maybe for him, it would be. Cassius certainly hoped so. When he looked at his brother, he always felt that the light-hearted Benedict was surely destined for a long and happy life, including the companionship of a faithful helpmeet.
When the duke looked at his own reflection in the mirror, however, he always saw their father looking back at him: the same thick, dark unruly hair, deep blue eyes and strong jaw. He saw a man who had dropped dead in the prime of life with no warning and for no discernible reason, leaving his widow so distraught that she had almost thrown herself into his grave.
“No, but it would be my duty to prevent you from marrying badly,” the Duke of Ashbourne told his younger brother pointedly, his tone making it clear that he expected to be obeyed. “I’m only telling you to stay away from Lady Josephine Thomson. There must be fifty other young ladies of similar age, beauty and rank here tonight. Take an interest in one of them instead.”
“I’m not hungry, all of a sudden,” said Benedict abruptly, pushing his plate away and rising to his feet. “I’m going back to the ballroom. Or would you like to remind me who holds the purse-strings before I leave?”
“Benedict,” the Duke of Ashbourne protested, although his brother was exactly right…
…Cassius supposed he would be prepared to use financial coercion to prevent Benedict from making a foolish match if he had to, but he would rather not talk of money in public.
As Benedict stalked away, Cassius silently cursed the young woman who had caused their argument. Damn her impertinent eyes, sharp tongue and defiant manner that could not help butstir his blood… Despite having met Josephine Thomson less than an hour earlier, she already felt like a thorn in his side.
Chapter Three
“Let’s go to the park today,” Josephine urged without preamble as soon as she sat down at the Elmridge House breakfast table, dressed but with her autumnal hair still unbrushed and unstyled, only tied back loosely over one shoulder.
“What do you think, Vera dear? Shall we walk in the park after breakfast?” asked Norman, Lord Eldridge, looking over the top of his newspaper towards his wife who was perusing invitation cards on the other side of the table. “It seems a good idea of Josephine’s, doesn’t it? There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
Josephine’s family were quite accustomed to her impulsive words and actions and neither Vera nor Norman seemed surprised at her manner of speaking.
“Hmmm. A walk in the park?” Vera repeated with a thoughtful smile. “Yes, why don’t we go Hyde Park and then we can drop in on Lady Broadley who lives only a street away from there…”
“No, St. James’s Park,” Josephine interrupted impatiently. “I meant to say that we must go for a walk in St. James’s Park this morning. I insist. We can go to Hyde Park and call on Lady Broadley tomorrow.”
Vera and Norman now looked at one another across the breakfast table, mystified but entertained by Josephine’s particular keenness to visit one park over another.
“Must we? Very well, if you wish it, dear,” Vera told her younger sister. “I like St. James’s Park well enough too. Is something special happening there?”
“It is only that Benedict Emerton said he would be walking there this morning and I do want to see him again,” admitted Josephine brightly.
Lord Elmridge laughed at this candid and very understandable explanation. Josephine had chattered about Benedict Emerton, his elegant outfitting and his dancing skills all the way home from the Silverton ball earlier that week.
Her older relatives found Josephine’s innocent enthusiasm for the young man amusing but had not taken it very seriously, even when she declared that she believed herself in love. Nor had they paid much attention to her scathing remarks about Benedict’s brother, the Duke of Ashbourne, who seemed to play equally on her mind, if in a very different manner.
“Mr. Emerton is a very personable young man, and well-connected too,” Norman commented. “I see no harm in manufacturing another encounter. What do you think, Vera?”
“Yes, I talked to him at the Silverton ball,” returned his wife with an indulgent smile towards Josephine. “I too found Mr. Emerton most polite and amiable, and I do believe he had almost as much energy as Josephine on the dance floor. It’s hard to believe he’s the Duke of Ashbourne’s younger brother, isn’t it?”
“Those two brothers are like night and day,” Lord Elmridge remarked, nodding. “One dark and the other fair, one playful and the other serious.”
“Mr. Emerton and I danced four times at the Silverton ball,” Josephine reminisced happily. “He never trod on my toes once and he didn’t seem to have a hair out of place, even after the hornpipe.”
“Unlike you, darling,” laughed Vera, reaching out to stroke her little sister’s untamed locks. “Your hair seems to have a life of its own.”
“Never trod once on your toes? Well, there’s a recommendation any young man should be proud of,” Norman added with a smile, folding up his newspaper. “I’ll arrange the carriage.”
Josephine gave thanks and hurried off to prepare for their outing. How wonderful it would be to be married. If she were Mrs. Benedict Emerton her family and the world would finally have to treat her with respect at last. No one would try to dressher up like a doll, fuss over her, or whisper hurtful remarks in corners.
The romance of her meeting with Benedict Emerton was her inspiration for such fantasies, having spent so many happy hours immersed in the world of fictional love stories. Nor could she deny that she would be proud of a husband as well turned-out as Mr. Emerton, rather as she might be of walking down the road with a glossy and good-tempered pedigree dog.
Underlying and driving both of these was also an unspoken but fundamental yearning to be free and independent, something she knew she could never be as an unmarried young woman under the roof of her relatives.
From any of these perspectives, Josephine wished to be married as soon as possible, more certain than ever now that this was when her real life would begin.
“Lady Josephine, I was hoping we might run into you again.”
