Page 13 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
Despite Emmeline’s certainty that Francesca would be along soon enough to find her, the woman failed to appear. Emmeline went inside in search of some tea and a bite to eat. She found Jasmine and asked the young woman to bring her tea into the library.
Emmeline was sitting in the library curled up in one of the oversized chairs reading a book of poetry when Jasmine came in with the tray of tea and biscuits.
“Thank you,” Emmeline said happily. She sat up and put her book aside as Jasmine set the tray down on the table beside Emmeline’s chair. “Won’t you join me? I do so hate eating alone.”
Jasmine quickly assented and took one of the dainty teacups for herself. She made up two cups of tea and handed Emmeline one before taking the other for herself. She then settled on a soft stool that she pulled over near the tray. “Are you enjoying your preparations?”
“Hardly,” Emmeline admitted. She sighed and added, “I guess it is not so bad. Francesca is helpful and with her around it has gone swiftly. Far more so than I could have done on my own.”
Jasmine nodded. She leaned forward. “I saw Francesca earlier, Miss. I thought you were perhaps with the gentlemen as I saw Francesca headed that way.”
“Gentlemen?” Emmeline frowned.
Jasmine whispered, “She always seems to pop up when Lord Torrington is around. I assumed she might have been doing so on your behalf.”
“No,” Emmeline shook her head. “His Grace is just my brother’s friend. If she is doing so, then it is without my permission. I shall speak to her about it.”
Jasmine blanched. “Please, don’t mention that I told you. She is scary at times.”
Emmeline could not help but laugh at the look on Jasmine’s face. “I know exactly what you mean.”
After tea, Jasmine went off to help in the kitchens. Eventually, Francesca turned up to look for her in the library. “Ah, there you are, My Lady.”
“Did you not find me in the study?” Emmeline made the enquiry while she peered over the top of her book of poetry.
Francesca looked confused. “I do not understand.”
“I saw you heading towards the study earlier and assumed you had gone to see if I was with my brother.” Emmeline shrugged. “I was just in here reading and enjoying a bit of the quiet.”
Francesca cleared her throat and ran her fingers over her long black braid as if to assure herself that her hair was still perfectly in place. The woman’s dark eyes considered Emmeline curiously. “I saw Lord Torrington. He seems to visit His Lordship often. Why do you not use that acquaintanceship to your advantage?”
“I do hope that you are not going around the duke to whisper my name to him. I have given you no indication that I wanted you to do so.” Emmeline shut her book and put it down.
Francesca stared at Emmeline for a moment before she dipped down into a curtsey to her. “Forgive me, My Lady. I fear that perhaps I am overly zealous. I do not mean to offend you.”
“It is quite fine,” Emmeline assured her. “Just please do not harass the duke on my behalf.”
The maid inclined her head to concede to Emmeline’s command. “Very well, My Lady.”
“Thank you.” Emmeline stretched. “Do not take this for me being ungrateful, but what do I owe to the day off today?”
Francesca smiled. “I merely had to have a bit of rest. I think my journey and the long hours since have caught up with me.”
“Well, I think it is a well-deserved rest then. Shall we be back preparing tomorrow?” Emmeline wished the woman would declare that they would not be, but she knew she had to keep up appearances. It would not do for her appear ungrateful for all of Harcourt’s generosity.
Francesca assured her, “We shall. Now if you will excuse me, My Lady, I am going to freshen up before the evening meal.”
“Of course,” Emmeline said as she stood up. She had been sitting so long that she was stiff. Her muscles cried out at her, but Emmeline waited until Francesca left the room to stretch.
She probably needed to freshen up as well. Emmeline made her way up the stairs wondering not for the first time who had decorated the walls in this manor house. Had her mother or another female relative done it? Her mother had never mentioned the house, or really much of any of the English estate. Despite that, Emmeline was certain the woman had to have been at them all at some point.
Her mother had liked to stay in Scotland. It was her home, as the woman was fond of saying. She, like Emmeline, had been born in Scotland. Perhaps that was why Emmeline almost felt more Scottish than English.
She thought back to the driver who had brought her into London. She had at the time been offended because he had treated her as though she were not a true English lady. Was she a true English lady?
Emmeline pondered the thought. She washed her face in the basin in her room and peered at her reflection. Her hair had a gleam of red amid its honey-blond strands. Her mother had said it was her ancestral roots showing through, but Emmeline thought it more her father’s light brown hair’s influence. Indeed, Harcourt’s hair looked very much like their father’s hair had with its light brown tones.
She patted her face dry and fixed a few strands of hair that had strayed out of place. Jasmine popped in through the door from the adjacent room. “Do you need some assistance, Miss?”
