Page 13 of Healing the Duke's Desires
“Nothing but love.” Emily couldn’t bite her tongue before saying this.
To her surprise, her mother wasn’t offended. She nodded, strangely understanding. “You know, when my father, God rest his soul, told me that I was to marry Patrick, your father, I thought he was out of his mind.”
Emily listened intently. But the truth was that the difference in age between her parents wasn’t as big as it was between her and the marquess. There was an entire generation gap staring them in the face, while with her parents, the difference was only ten years.
This difference meant that the man had lived his youthful years and was ready to settle down. It meant that he had wisened up, that he had decided to start a family. The marquess already should have had a family a long time ago. He was to be a grandfather now, not a father.
Father…
The thought of having children with this despicable man sent shivers down Emily’s spine.No. No. No.She didn’t know much, but she knew one thing. In that moment, she made a silent promise to herself, to follow her heart, to do whatever she could to make sure that this marriage would not take place.
It would not be easy, and there would be numerous challenges along the way, but she had to try. Otherwise, she would never forgive herself. But for the time being, she had had enough talk of the marquess.
“I know Father means well,” Emily said, grateful that this wasn’t a lie. A part of him truly did mean well. He wanted to see both her and Sarah married to affluent gentlemen with titles so that he could boast this fact and the knowledge that his daughters were taken care of.
Only both Emily and Sarah valued love more than material possessions, more than titles. It was a truth that their father would eventually have to learn. But there was still a little time left for that.
“How about we go out into the garden and have some tea?” Emily suggested, needing to get out of this oppressive house and be surrounded by nature and flowers.
“What a splendid idea.” Sarah beamed, and their mother agreed wholeheartedly.
There, in the colorful splendor of their blossoming garden, Emily managed to find a quiet sanctuary, even if it was for a precious few hours. She wondered what fate would bring into her path, but she vowed to herself that she would fight for what she wanted.
Chapter 8
When Alexander came downstairs to join Helen and Rose for breakfast, he couldn’t help but notice the way they stared at him.
“Good morning,” he greeted as he took a seat opposite them.
Although the breakfast table was adorned with numerous delicacies as always, Alexander wasn’t particularly hungry. Especially not after the previous night. However, he had to admit that the aroma of warm, flaky scones and buttery muffins enticed him.
Silver trays were dotted around the table, each carrying an assortment of jams, preserves, and honey. The rich golden hues of the honey stood in stark contrast to the deep reds of the jams, creating a visually appealing tableau.
Next to the pastries were delicate china plates filled with an assortment of sliced fruits. Juicy oranges, succulent berries, and crisp apples created a vibrant and colorful display, adding a refreshing touch to the otherwise indulgent breakfast spread.
He opted for scones with jam, and a servant rushed over to pour him some hot tea. All of this was done in silence, although Alexander had known enough women in his life to recognize when there was an unspoken question lingering in the air. He thought it would be regarding the marquess’ outburst, but he was ready to answer it.
He stopped buttering his scone only to lift his head and lock gazes with Helen. Much to his surprise, she seemed perfectly content with her breakfast and sipped her tea. It was actually Rose who was lingering in limbo.
“Alexander?” her voice echoed, tender and barely audible, which was how it always sounded when she felt like she was asking a favor of someone.
“Yes, Rose?” He turned his attention to her.
She hesitated for a moment or so before she mustered the courage to ask the question that had been filling the dining hall with such tension.
“Well… there is an art exhibition tomorrow, hosted by Lady Viola, which I’ve been wanting to attend, and I… I was wondering if you would do me the honor of accompanying me there?”
She asked so sweetly that it almost broke his heart. She so rarely asked for anything, but this was asking too much. Art was something he had given up a long time ago. It belonged to a different version of him, the version he no longer was.
He cleared his throat, hastily glancing around his plate. He grabbed his napkin and dipped the corner of his mouth with it to buy himself some time. Rose waited patiently until he placed the napkin back down. Luckily, he had an idea.
“Can’t your mother go?” he inquired politely.
“No.” Helen shook her head. “A friend of mine has sprained her ankle and I need to go see her. She is expecting me tomorrow around lunchtime, and I doubt I will be back before early in the evening.”
“I see.” Alexander nodded. This placed him in a predicament. He didn’t want to refuse outright, but at the same time, he didn’t want to go.
He took a moment to consider his response, so that Rose would not be offended or hurt. That was the last thing he wanted to do. As the Duke of Ravenswood, his schedule was usually filled with social obligations and duties, so making any commitments before checking his official schedule was not something he was prone to doing.
