Page 19 of Healing the Duke's Desires
“Sorry?” Emily asked, smiling a little apprehensively, hoping the truth of her thoughts would not be etched on her face and give her secret away.
“Everyone will be there,” Sarah gushed. There was something about the wordeveryonethat made Emily think that her sister had a particular someone in mind.
It was obvious that Sarah had been quite taken with Mr. Henry Wilcott, and she was probably hoping he would be attending as well. As for Emily, she knew that feeling of hope, when one’s heart fluttered at the thought of stumbling into the object of their affection.
No affection, just… a bit of infatuation,she tried to convince herself silently, but she had little success in doing so.
“Of course,” she was quick to reply, clearing her throat a little. “Any ball at Ravenswood Manor is a highly anticipated event. As such, everyone wants to be one of the fortunate ones attending it.”
“And we are the fortunate ones!” Sarah clapped her hands excitedly, which made Emily smile at her. “I’ve put on my special gown for the occasion. Do I look nice, Emily?”
Emily smiled. “I would say you look better than nice, Sarah. You look absolutely stunning,” she assured her sister, while she herself hoped the same.
The conversation continued in the same direction, with Sarah gushing about the place, the music, the attendees, and their mother joining in.
Their father usually preferred to sleep through this commotion inside the carriage, needing to gather his senses for the business talk with the gentlemen that was to follow with glasses of whisky in their hands. As for Emily, she allowed herself a few more moments of solitary thoughts, trying to calm down her racing heart.
Finally, the carriage had come to a halt. The ladies were helped outside and welcomed into the great garden of Ravenswood Manor. Emily had to admit that she had never seen a more beautiful garden in her life. They stepped into a blossoming oasis of colors and scents, a delightful symphony of nature’s beauty, carefully cultivated into a mesmerizing array of flowers and plants.
The entrance was marked by an archway draped in climbing roses of soft pinks, romantic reds, and delicate whites.
As they walked deeper into the garden, they were further welcomed by tall, elegant sunflowers, lavender blooms, patches of orange and red poppies, and many other flowers that Emily could not remember the names of. A brook babbled in the distance, but before Emily could approach it, their hosts approached them.
“It is so lovely to see you all could make it!” Lady Helen Blackwood, the dowager Duchess of Ravenswood, and her daughter, Lady Rose, were walking toward them, smiles adorning their faces.
“It is most kind of you to have invited us.” Lady Ashfordshire was the first to return the greeting with a polite curtsey. Emily and Sarah did the same, while their father bowed before the ladies, kissing their hands as a sign of respect. “Your garden is absolutely breathtaking,” Lady Ashfordshire continued, much to the pleasure of Lady Blackwood.
“Why, thank you, my dear,” Lady Blackwood replied courteously. “I find solace among the flowers, when the world becomes an unbearable place to handle.”
“Oh, I know what you mean, my dear,” Lady Ashfordshire was quick to agree. “These sights just fill one’s soul with hope that everything would be all right, no matter what.”
“Yes,” Lady Blackwood nodded, “I need to keep reminding myself of that all the time.” She smiled a little sadly, then continued in a different direction. “But this is not a time for sad topics. I shall have none of them.” She looked about as if searching for someone. “I do believe that the gentlemen are over there by the brook, chatting about… well, the usual things gentlemen talk about, I suppose.”
“Quite,” Lord Ashfordshire replied this time, glancing in the same direction. He gently placed his hand around his wife’s waist, pulling her close for a chaste kiss on the cheek. He released her again. “I shall leave you ladies to discuss… well, lady-like things, while I join the gents.”
“Of course.” Lady Blackwood nodded, turning her attention to Lady Ashfordshire as their conversation continued in the direction of the refreshments and the food, which was served on a table that seemed to stretch endlessly. They approached it, opting for some lemonade for the time being.
The assortment of delicacies was astonishing. The finest bone china plates, adorned with intricate floral patterns, were laid out in a precise formation, accompanied by delicate saucers and teacups. The knives, forks, and spoons gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the table’s setting like miniature works of art.
Emily saw dainty finger sandwiches with cucumber and smoked salmon, freshly baked scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserves, and an array of pastries and cakes. The centerpiece was of fresh flowers, carefully arranged in a delicate crystal vase, that added a burst of color and fragrance to an already delectable tableau.
But Emily could hardly focus on all of these delicacies. Secretly, her eyes followed the desire of her heart. Seizing the opportunity when her mother was busy talking to the dowager duchess and while Sarah was speaking to Rose, Emily moved away from them, innocently pretending to follow a trail of flowers.
She moved with purpose, her steps guided by the gentle rustling of her skirt against the grass. Her fingers would occasionally adjust her bonnet, ensuring that it was securely fastened, but in reality she would lift it every once in a while for a better overview of all the guests.
Then, a glimmer of hope lit up her chest as she caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance. There he was—clad in a finely tailored suit that accentuated his tall, strong frame. His dark, wavy hair caught the sunlight, making it unable for her to look away, even for a single moment.
As if sensing the strength of her gaze, he turned around, and at that moment, their eyes met. A smile blossomed on her lips and she stopped, as if frozen in time and space. Her heart fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, and she knew then that this was no mere infatuation, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise.
***
“No, no, old boy, the Buntley Company stocks have dropped significantly, and I doubt they will be rising any time soon.” Lord Fauntleroy was the loudest in the group; not many could outvoice him, especially when it came to the matter of business dealings.
Alexander had to admit that he had very little interest in discussing stocks or any business matters at the moment, so he was more than happy to allow Lord Fauntleroy to lead the conversation in any direction he saw fit. There were a few other gentlemen who nodded every once in a while, asking questions, but Alexander was there merely in body. His mind was elsewhere.
He could not explain why, but he felt a sudden need to turn around, and at that moment, his eyes locked withhers.He found himself entranced by her elegance, by the way she was now standing amidst the blooming flowers and the dappled sunlight, putting all the beauty of nature to shame before her.
“What about the brick business?” the Duke of Stockton wondered, and once again, Lord Fauntleroy was the first to offer his unapologetic view of things.
