Page 40 of A Touch Wicked
How could he have been so ignorant all this time, to both his sister’s intelligence and to Emma’s contribution? Everything he read was a reminder: he had been so blinded by his own duties that he'd underestimated Alexandra and Emma.
He had laughed off rumors of his sister as a radical. The drawings in newspapers depicted her as a madwoman who ought to be put away in an asylum. Instead, what he had read were passionate pleas for the men in this country to pay attention to ways in which laws and society subjugated women.
And Emma had helped. How could he dance with anyone else, when her words occupied his mind? When the things she had helped write were strewn across his desk? When he went to bed at night and imagined her next to him, and dreamed of her lips on his? How could he?
“Do you purposely ask my butler to neglect his duties, or has he given up on you all together?” James asked his brother.
“I have a tendency to slip in and ignore him.” Richard sat across from him and glanced at his desk with a sudden grin. “Ah, so you’ve finally decided to brush up on Alexandra’s misdeeds. It’s about time.”
James leaned back in surprise. “You’ve read them?”
“Of course I have. Reciting her work to my lovers never went unappreciated. Personal benefits aside, the writing is concise — likely your masked lover’s doing, since Alexandra has a tendency to ramble.”
James clicked his tongue. “I’m actually rather disappointed you didn’t just come right out and ask who she was. It’s what a rogue would have done.”
“Lately, I’ve been quite the gentleman. At least Emma thinks so.”
So she wasEmmato him now, was she? James set his jaw. “DidMiss Dumontgive you leave to address her so informally?”
“Emmadid, becauseEmmais staying in my bloody home and when a woman is crying in your drawing room, you don’t tend to concern yourself with formalities.”
Christ. She was crying? Of course she was, because James was an imbecile who had mucked things up.
“How is she?” he asked, a touch hoarsely.
Richard shrugged. “About as well as can be expected for a woman who is about to uproot her entire life and start somewhere new.”
James jerked his head up. “Excuse me?”
His brother calmly slid his pocket watch from his waistcoat and flipped it open. “Yes, I expect she’ll be boarding the train to Liverpool soon, if she hasn’t already. Her ship to America leaves tomorrow. Don’t worry, I insisted on buying her ticket — first class, of course.”
The earl rounded the desk and grasped his brother by the lapel. “Which bloody ship?”
Richard didn’t even blink. “TheBritannic. It’s the maiden voyage. You’re ruining my jacket.”
“I don’t give a damn about your jacket. She left and you didn’t bother to tell me?”
“Of course I didn’t bother. I wanted to have this conversation without you immediately running off to stop her, you clod.” Richard tried unsuccessfully to extricate himself from James’s grip. With an exasperated sigh, he asked, “Are you going to marry the girl or not?”
“Haven’t you been paying attention?” James roughly released him and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t dance with anyone. I read all her work. I’ve spent the last three days trying to come up with a way of apologizing and offering her marriage without sounding like an utter buffoon, andyou bought her a sodding ticket.”
Richard grinned slowly. “Now that’s the answer I wanted to hear. Ask me why.” At James’s glare, he rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun. ‘Why, Richard?’” His brother mocked in James’s hard baritone. “Well, I’m glad you asked. I bought two tickets, though I’m hoping you won’t be needing the other suite.” He pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and pressed it into James’s hand. “There’s another train to Liverpool in a few hours.”
James clapped him on the shoulder with a grin and headed for the door.
“Before you go,” Richard called after him, forcing James to a stop. “I ought to tell you something: I'll be married by the time you return.”
James jerked around in surprise, his mouth hanging open. “To Miss Sheffield?” At Richard’s nod, he asked, “Are you drunk?”
His brother grinned. “Drunk seems a lot like love.”
James shook his head. “I had better get an explanation after my honeymoon. Assuming I have a honeymoon.”
“I hear groveling works wonders.” Richard nodded to the door. “Now go make her your countess.”
Chapter 23
The ship had left port.
