Page 27 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
She found a stone bench and sat down. The letter had not been a ruse. She had been waiting for a reply to the letter she had sent Caeley enquiring after her health.
Emmeline tore open the letter with trembling hands. She took a breath and read:
Mistress, I am doing much better. The doctor has called on me every day as you instructed. He said the baby is causing me to be strained and I am supposed to rest. I do not know how he thinks I can do so with so much to do here, but I am trying my best.
I do hope that your season brings you happiness and perhaps a lord for our little castle. I know that you were not thrilled with the prospect of going to England. But if you can find a man as good as my Matthew, then I will be thrilled for you.
Emmeline smiled. Caeley rambled on much as she did in real life and told of all the inhabitants of the castle. She felt as though she were back home with them for the moments she spent reading. When she finally reached the end of the letter, Emmeline wiped away a tear.
She smiled and folded the letter. Slipping it inside her dress’s hidden pocket, Emmeline pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. She breathed in the cool air.
Caeley had such hope that Emmeline would find a strong, brave man to love her. But she did not understand society here. Emmeline barely understood it herself. The chances were that she would find only men who had no interest in her estate and only wished to have it for the money.
Tears pricked at her eyes again, and Emmeline stood up defiantly. She would not sit and cry as if a child. Despite how Francesca chided Emmeline sometimes for pouting, she had no interest in crying over something as ridiculous as a situation that did not yet exist.
With the duke’s help perhaps she could find a true match. Her heart soared at the thought. If the false engagement could buy her time to find a man worthy of her love, then what was there to lose from it?
She began to walk through the garden. It was amazing how clear the sky was and yet how the wind blew. Emmeline had no doubt that clouds would blow in again. England seemed determined to keep clouds blanketed over them.
It took her a few minutes to reach the lawn that spread out before the line of trees at the side of the property. Harcourt said the trees were to buffer the wind so that games may be played on the lawn. But Emmeline felt it was probably more to buffer the neighbours.
She did not understand how Harcourt could like living so close to others. She was used to having miles between homes. Here everything was too closely pressed together.
The oak stood waiting for her. She looked up into the branches. It indeed had spots on the leaves, and the tree looked to be withering by the day. “No wonder Harcourt is having it cut down. Poor old Grandfather Oak,” Emmeline whispered as she put her hand on the rough bark of the tree. “Bet you have seen a good many things in your years.”
“If only we lived as long,” a voice said from behind the tree.
Emmeline jumped and put her hand over her heart. “You have given me a fright, spirit of the forest!”
“I apologise.” Lord Torrington’s head appeared around the oak. “I was unaware of who had approached until you spoke. I did not mean to scare you.”
She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly before she spoke again. “I thought you were not to be here until mid-morning. Surely it is not that late yet.”
“I found a moment to leave and took it. I did not see any merit in riding all over London just to waste away the morning.” He motioned for her to come into the trees. “Is anyone near?”
Emmeline clasped her hands together and turned about as if admiring the gardens. “No,” she whispered. “I told Francesca that I needed a day to myself to collect my thoughts. She was not happy, but she had no choice but to accept it.”
“Then let us speak so we do not look any more suspicious than is needed.” He disappeared around the tree as if he had never been there at all.
Emmeline had some misgivings about going into the trees with the duke, but she thought the risk was worth what she could potentially gain. With that in mind, she stepped gingerly around the tree, picking her footing carefully so that she did not trip. She found the duke leaning against the oak waiting patiently.
“So, this false engagement that you are proposing, how will it occur?” Emmeline tugged her shawl around her shoulders at the coolness of the shadows.
Lord Torrington shrugged. “I had hoped we could discuss it and come up with a way for our intentions to become apparent. Once we are a couple, we can tell your brother our intentions to become engaged. That way we can spend the season courting.”
“How will I find a match if I am being courted?” Emmeline folded her arms.
He chuckled. “Well, we will be at parties. We can arrange it so that we have time apart. It will give me time to conduct business, and you can find your perfect match.”
“I can see where that would be helpful, but will it not look poorly upon you if I am off chatting with other gentlemen?”
“Talk to the women they know, get introduced. I am sure as a woman you can think of ways. Besides, the object is for you to find a match before we are formally engaged.”
The wind shook the trees overhead, as if they wanted a say in the conversation too. Lord Torrington looked up. “It should be simple to get the match set aside. It happens all the time. As long as we break with each other before the official announcement, then you get all of the notice for being my betrothed, but none of the consequences.”
“That is true,” Emmeline whispered. “You are really quite clever.”
He laughed, and his hair shook with his merriment. “You said that as if you are truly shocked. Certainly, I am offended, Lady Callum.”
