Page 6 of Choosing Her Earl at Last
Michael has every right to behave coldly toward me, but that does not remove the sting of his indifference.
Emmeline felt irrationally angry and more than a little hurt, feelings that she knew she had no right to have, and yet they persisted.
I should have written to him, explained everything, but I was a coward and too broken-hearted to explain how I had done my duty and betrayed our love. How can one find the words to express such pain?Emmeline shook her head.There are no words.
He had not written to her either. Their love had died on the vine before it had ever had a chance to come to fruition. Worst of all, she missed their friendship the most.
Rebecca reached out a reassuring hand and gave her sister’s balled-up fist a gentle squeeze. Emmeline relaxed her fingers and accepted the loving gesture of comfort. She gave Rebecca an apologetic look.
“Forgive me for my sour mood. I have ruined our outing with my melancholic turn of thought.”
Rebecca shook her head. “Do not give it another thought. I may not truly know or understand everything that you have endured, but I am here to listen whenever you wish to unburden your heart.”
Emmeline smiled at her beautiful sister. “However was I so fortunate as to have a sister such as you in my life?”
Rebecca blushed prettily, accepting the compliment with good grace. “No more fortunate than I to have you, dear sister.”
Spirits lifted somewhat by Rebecca’s loving support, Emmeline walked arm in arm with her sister back home. To her delight, the auction house had already delivered the Da Vinci piece.Emmeline carried the framed sketch up to her bedroom and closed the door.
She untied the twine and folded back the wrapping protecting the artwork. Once again, the sorrowful strength of the woman captured within robbed her of breath. It was a feeling that she understood all too well.
It was as if Da Vinci had peered into her very soul and brought the pain within to life for all the world to gaze upon. A single tear slipped from Emmeline’s lashes, splashing down her cheek to fall unbidden onto the portrait’s gilded frame.
This woman knew what it was to have lost love and somehow survive the pain.Emmeline traced the line of the woman’s curls as they fell in waves down the parchment, her eyes held captive by the downward turn of the eyes, the full curve of her lips.
Sighing, Emmeline brushed the errant tear from the frame and turned to find a place to hang the artwork. As she moved toward a blank space on the bedroom wall, she passed the mirror hanging over the room’s fireplace.
In her reflection, she found the same haunted expression in her own eyes as that of Da Vinci’s muse. She turned her gaze away from the discomfiting sight and back down to the portrait in her hands.
The words of William Shakespeare floated through her mind.“Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but love.”
Emmeline shook her head, forcing back the tears. She did not allow herself to be broken by the cold indifference of her husband. She would not be broken by this either. “Love is a devil, indeed,” she murmured, straitening her shoulders.
A knock sounded on her door.
“Emmeline, it is time to dress for the ball,” Rebecca’s voice called through the wooden portal. “Come and see the new dresses that have just arrived.”
Emmeline smiled at her sister’s enthusiasm as she laid Da Vinci’s portrait down on her side table. “Coming,” she called back. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and opened the door, stepping over the threshold with the determination to let go of the past and step boldly into an unknown future.
Chapter 4
Michael entered the throne room, scanning the crowd for his cousin. He had come as requested to offer his support in Colin’s search for a wife, and he wished to get the job over with as soon as possible. The presentation of the debutants was the most promising place to begin, as was the ball to follow.
“Michael!” Colin found him first, coming to stand beside him with a smile of anticipation. “I was beginning to think that you were not going to attend.”
“I gave you my word that I would, so here I am.” Michael gave him a dry look of reproach. “I am, above all else, a man of my word.”
Colin nodded in acceptance of the reproach. “Indeed. I am pleased to see that your reclusiveness has not changed that.”
Michael shot another warning look toward him. “Do you wish for my assistance or not?”
“I do,” Colin raised his hands in surrender. “I have been gathering information about the available ladies that are to be presented.”
“Enlighten me,” Michael invited as the two men began to move about the room.
Smiling, eyes bright with excitement, Colin began regaling Michael about each debutante and their families. Michael listened, amused, until Colin came to the Frampton family. “Did you know that the Marchioness of Worthington’s sister is to be presented this Season?”
“She is of an age that I assumed as much,” Michael confirmed, attempting to hide his feelings at the mention of the marchioness. “That is why the marchioness has returned, no doubt.” Using her title brought Michael physical pain.
