Page 18 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
Amelia opened the door and went inside. She had a bunch of white and pink flowers in her arm, and she passed it to Emmeline. Emmeline took it, feeling her heart twist. In a few minutes, she would be in the coach and on her way to Rilendale, where her life would be entirely changed.
“Shall we go down?” Charlotte asked. Her voice was level, and Emmeline nodded.
“Yes. We shall.”
She walked to the door, feeling her knees buckle, each step seeming an impossible one. With each step, she was walking away from her former life and towards a terrifying unknown.
She stepped out of the door and into the hallway. Lady Radley and Amelia followed her, and she went down each stair, her stomach churning, and her heart thudding. The staff of the London townhouse were there, and Uncle Henry and Aunt Patricia were waiting at the foot of the stairs. She swallowed hard.
“You look lovely, dear niece,” Uncle Henry said softly.
“Thank you,” Emmeline whispered.
She walked out of the door, seeing the household staff smiling warmly at her as if they were happy for her. They certainly were, she realised distantly. They had no idea why she was marrying Lord Rilendale or anything about him. The gossip from theTonwas different to servants’gossip and they had probably never heard the story of how he had murdered his grandfather.
Perhaps if they didn’t know, then he didn’t,she thought distantly.
She stopped thinking about anything in particular as Uncle Henry stepped up to help her alight into the big family coach. He helped Mama and Amelia get in next, and then Aunt Patricia, before he jumped in and shut the coach.
“Onward,” he called out of the window, and the coachman set them moving.
Emmeline gazed at the window, but she barely saw anything as the scenery rolled by. Soon they would be at Rilendale. The earl had requested the ceremony to be at his house, explaining that his grandmother was too unwell to make the journey to London.
Mayhap he is not so wicked as people say,Emmeline thought frowningly. If his grandmother’s happiness was so important to him, could he really be that bad?
Lord Rilendale’s face drifted into her mind, his expression the cold, icy one that he had shown to her when she had talked to him later. His pale blue eyes made her shiver, his mouth set in a firm line that showed how distasteful he seemed to find the world. She shuddered at the memory. It was hard to imagine him being friendly to anyone, even to his grandmother, and her frown deepened. He was a confusing man, impossible to understand and she had no idea what might be true of him.
Not one of them spoke as the coach rattled and jolted on and Emmeline gazed out as if in a trance. She was not really aware of what was happening or where they were, and she blinked in surprise as the trees thinned and they turned down a leafy path, the coach slowing to a stop.
“Rilendale Manor,” Uncle Henry announced.
Emmeline stared. The house was on her left, but she could not really see, obscured as it was by a big, spreading tree. She waited for Uncle Henry to help her out, a knot of anticipation tight in her stomach. She had a burning need to lay eyes on it. Perhaps it would answer some of her questions about the enigmatic Earl of Rilendale.
“There it is,” Uncle Henry murmured.
Emmeline’s eyes widened. The place was stone, like Ashmore, their estate in the country, but where Ashmore had tall gables and scrollwork and many windows, Rilendale Manor was of a much older design. It had false battlements and unadorned stone facing that had been popular twohundred years earlier.The effect should have been grand but the house seemed deserted. The gables were crumbling, the wall cracked. Windows stared emptily at her from a wing she guessed was abandoned. The path was lined with weeds and the garden was ruinous. Plants filled the beds, hedges were untended, and trees shadowed the house, giving it an air of gloom even greater than it already possessed. She could easily imagine the flapping of ragged birds around the gable.
“Well,” Uncle Henry murmured, trying to sound happy. “Here we are. Should we go in?” He asked Charlotte, who he was helping down from the coach. She came to stand beside Emmeline. Emmeline gazed up at the house, fear shivering down her back.
“Here we are,” Uncle Henry repeated brightly, as Aunt Patricia and Amelia came to join them. “Let’s go inside. I believe that must be the door there.”
They all walked to the front door, where a butler admitted them.The entranceway seemed moderately well kept...it was clean, at least, and the tiled floor was swept and polished. The lamps burned low, allowing enough light to see by. She gazed numbly at the stairs that led up to, presumably, the drawing room. They were bare stone and cold and the banister was dusty. She could only imagine how the rest of the house might appear, and she shuddered. She focused on the friendly butler, trying to calm her terror.
“His lordship, and her ladyship, the dowager countess, are awaiting your arrival in the chapel,” he announced grandly. He was a pleasant-looking man with a gentle face and Emmeline was surprised that she trusted him instantly.
“Thank you,” Uncle Henry murmured. “If you could show us where that is, we would be grateful,” he added with a small laugh. Emmeline knew how tense he was—he only laughed like that when he was extremely uncomfortable.
They walked down a hallway that echoed with their steps, and into a dining room where the wallpaper was scuffed and spoiled here and there, and then out into the garden. Emmeline held her breath at the overgrown, ruinous state of the place. They followed the butler towards a small stone construction.
“Here it is, my lord. My ladies,” the butler told them and went up the path. Emmeline stood where she was, facing the door. Once she had walked through it, her life would change.
“Well. Shall we?” Uncle Henry asked. He sounded hesitant.
Charlotte stepped up and opened the door, and a second later she, Aunt Patricia and Amelia went through into the darkened interior. Amelia gazed over her shoulder at Emmelin with worried eyes.
“So,” Uncle Henry said as the door shut. “Next it’ll be us, I suppose.” He smiled and Emmeline gazed into his worried blue eyes. His lighthearted manner was covering up his concern. It was yet another sign of his care.
Emmeline nodded. She lowered her veil and took his hand and Uncle Henry led her in. As her oldest male relative, he performed the duty of walking her into the church. She held onto his hand, blinking in the sudden darkness.
