Page 21 of Healing the Duke's Desires
It was obvious to both his wife and his daughter that he was still weighing his options. As a father, he was keen on seeing both of his daughters married off to titled gentlemen. This particular gentleman had no title, but he had more wealth than Lord Ashfordshire could have hoped for, and that was exactly why his plan was to see where this would lead and then decide accordingly.
He leaned closer to his wife, mostly so that no one would overhear them. “I am glad to see that Sarah’s, uh, overly witty and outspoken nature hasn’t sent the lad running for the hills.”
“Why would it?” Emily interfered, determined to defend her sister if need be. It was true that her sister was the chatty type, and that was exactly what made her so lovely. Emily didn’t believe that anyone, especially Sarah, needed to change, in order to be more liked by a man.
Both of her parents turned to face her at the same time. For some reason, they hadn’t known she was listening to their conversation. But Emily was curious to find out what her parents thought of Mr. Wilcott for the simple reason that her sister was utterly smitten by the young man. As luck would have it, he seemed to feel the same way about her.
“Well…” Lord Fairchild spoke slowly, in an effort to find the right words, but fortunately, his wife jumped to his aid.
“My dear, you know that your sister has always been rather outspoken, and we feared this might be a hindrance in her efforts at finding a suitable match.” Lady Ashfordshire spoke with much affection of her younger daughter, as could only a mother who could see both her children’s flaws as well as virtues and tried to weigh them in a just manner.
“But wouldn’t a man who truly loved her appreciate thoseflaws,as you call them?” Emily inquired, perhaps a little naively.
“Yes,” her mother nodded, glancing at her husband for help, “of course he would.”
“It is just that most gentlemen prefer timid ladies who only speak when they are spoken to,” Emily’s father said, but the moment those words crossed his lips, it was clear he knew his daughter did not like the sound of them. Not one bit.
“I would call those ladies quite dull then,” Emily pointed out, seeing that this conversation was fruitless, but at the same time, glad to realize that Sarah’s evident affection for young Mr. Henry Wilcott was left to blossom, at least for the time being.
“Dull or not, it is the way things are, Emily,” her father replied in an exasperated manner. “You speak as if you have not been taught the proper manners of theton.”
Of course, Emily had been taught those exact manners. She knew what was expected of her and what she had to avoid at all cost. However, that did not mean that she liked any of those rules. They stifled one’s free spirit, not allowing a young lady to simply be as she was, as it was the case with Sarah, forcing a woman to be obedient and quiet. Emily did not like that one bit.
“Of course, she has, Patrick,” Emily’s mother interfered. “You know very well that both our girls are well-mannered and polite, which will aid them greatly in finding wonderful husbands.”
“That is the most important thing,” Lord Ashfordshire acknowledged, only Emily was completely aware of the fact that a wonderful husband did not mean the same thing for her parents as it did for her.
Then, her father continued in a direction Emily liked even less.
“Have you seen the Marquess of Thornton, by any chance?” he wondered to his wife and daughter as much as he wondered to himself, as he looked about, much to Emily’s horror.
Seeing that odious man here would be the last thing she could imagine as pleasant. She couldn’t help but remember with a distinct shudder how he had scolded the poor servant who’d spilled a tray of drinks on her gown. It was nothing but a mere accident, and the man had treated it as gravely as an assassination.
“I do suppose he has not returned yet from his business trip,” he mused, sounding hopeful that this would happen soon.
Emily did not want to continue with this conversation, so she hastily came up with an excuse. “Oh, I beg your pardon, Father, but I do believe I see an old acquaintance I need to greet. After all, I would not want to appear rude.”
Before her father could say anything to that, Emily slinked away, and as fate would have it, she actually did stumble upon a few familiar faces, which gave her a much needed respite from both her father and the tumultuous thoughts inside her own mind, which constantly brought up memories of Alexander.
As Emily partook in interesting conversations with the ladies she knew, she still somehow always managed to capture Alexander’s visage out of the corner of her eye.
Even worse, she could see the way other ladies spoke about him in a hushed manner, their whispers barely concealed behind fluttering eyelashes and open palms pressed to another lady’s ear. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that perhaps he was not the object of their hushed whispers, but she knew better than to deceive herself thusly.
Was it jealousy or merely curiosity that refused to let her be? Emily pretended not to know. It was easier that way, while trying to focus on the conversations she was actually having. They were not enough of a distraction, but at least they were something she could focus on.
Minutes stretched into an entire hour, after which the dowager Duchess of Ravenswood announced that they would all be seated at the garden table, which had been set up especially for this occasion. A soft murmur could be heard on all parts, wondering who would be seated next to whom. Excitement was etched on everyone’s faces.
Young ladies who had their eye on someone special always hoped the seating arrangement would be beneficial for them, that they would be seated next to the object of their interest. Usually, families would be seated together, so Emily did not question this arrangement much.
At least, not until she turned to her left and realized that the man who was seated to her was none other than the same man she had been trying to avoid all afternoon.
Her heart fluttered as if a million little butterflies had been jarred in there, seeking a way out but finding none. Blood rushed to her cheeks as her heart pumped more and more passionately, her throat drying up to the point of her inability to utter a word the moment he turned to her, recognizing her.
“Lady Emily,” he said politely, a curious smile dancing in the corner of his lips. “It is a pleasure to see you here.”
Yes, pleasure.That was exactly how she would explain that tingling sensation running down her spine, like a pair of delicate fingers yearning to play a finely tuned instrument. And she never wanted them to stop.
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