Page 54 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“Are you quite well?” Lord Hawley asked her.
Emmeline nodded. “Of course, I think I need a bite to eat.” She made her way to the refreshment table and looked over the offerings, settling on a small sandwich that had crisp, sweet vegetables in it. “That’s rather good,” she said to herself.
“Have you not eaten a cucumber sandwich before?” Lord Hawley asked.
“We did not have them growing up. My father always insisted on mutton cut very thinly to go on sandwiches.”
“Mutton,” Lord Hawley repeated. “I sometimes forget why you have that lovely accent.”
She covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed. “Yes,” she said. “It is true that I was a Scottish bairn through and through, but here I am rediscovering my roots, and cucumber sandwiches.”
For propriety’s sake, they parted ways after refreshments and saw no more of each other at the ball. Emmeline left feeling better that Lord Hawley would hold her in no poor esteem because of the rumours. Still, as she left and headed home with her brother, she felt heavy.
The heaviness did not go away even after she had dressed for the night. She lay in bed waiting for sleep to claim her, but only the night birds came with their peculiar sounds. Emmeline rolled over onto her side.
She did not know when sleep overtook her. All she knew was that she was awake suddenly in a ballroom that was not at all like any ballroom she had ever seen. Everyone wore masks and danced with abandon, much like parties Emmeline had only read about in books.
A man grabbed her around her waist, and Emmeline let him pull her into a dance. She could not tell who he was, but she saw others as they twirled around the room. She saw Francesca, Lord Hawley, and even Lady Grayson.
“Who are you?” Emmeline asked.
He shook his head. “Do you not recognise your husband?” His laughter was deep and rich as he pulled off his mask revealing a very amused Lord Torrington.
Emmeline jolted upright in her bed. “Oh bother,” she mumbled to herself. She had been so concerned about everything else that she had not even noticed that she had grown to love the dark-haired duke.
“Well, that is just not going to work.” She rubbed her face as if she could scour away the memory of the dream. If she could only go back to being ignorant of the feelings, it would be better, because no matter what she felt, she had made a deal.
Emmeline got up and went to her desk. She pulled out a piece of paper and began writing another letter to Caeley. It was all she could think to do.
Dear Caeley,
I hope by the time this reaches you that you will be able to hold that wee one of yours. I miss you and everyone at home fiercely. There are times I want to just grab a carriage and run away.
So much has happened here that I do not know quite where to begin, or if I even should. I wish you were here. Is that not the most selfish thing you have ever heard? But yet, there it is.
I just woke from a dream that has me still in its grips, and I guess I just needed a piece of home to ground me again. I do not know if I will be myself again until I can stand on that rocky shore and feel the sea on my skin. I should go and try to sleep again.
Send my love to all. God be with you.
Emmeline.
She looked at the letter and left it to dry. The bedcovers beckoned her, but she did not know if she dared go to sleep. What if her mind chose to betray her friendship to Lord Torrington again?
There was nothing she could do but try to sleep. Not sleeping would only end with her in the bed and doctors poking her. She had no great interest in seeing a doctor any time soon.
She fell into the bed as one would cold water, wanting to get it over with. She sank into the covers and pulled them over her head.
The next time she roused was when the sunlight came through her window. “Good morning, Miss,” Jasmine’s chipper voice said, prompting Emmeline to poke her head out from under the covers. “Gracious, are you ill?”
“No,” Emmeline said as she rolled out of bed. “I had trouble sleeping.”
Jasmine nodded. “I have had nights like that myself. Some warm milk or tea usually helps.”
“I did not even think of it,” Emmeline admitted. “I got up and wrote a letter.” Remembering the letter, Emmeline quickly slipped it into her book where she kept her letters to be sent. Thankfully she had not written anything that needed to not be shared.
The watchful eyes of Jasmine followed her. “Do you wish me to help you dress now? Or would you like breakfast?”
“Run a bath for me?” Emmeline sank into the chair in front of her desk.
