Page 59 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
She knew? Raff frowned; so she did feel it, she did feel this connection. Then why, he wondered, was she so adamant that she could not marry him?
"If that is how you feel," he said carefully, tilting her chin up so that he could look her in the eye, "Then why can you not marry me?"
"Because I am not who you think me to be."
The words were whispered so quickly, that Raff thought he had misheard. He frowned again; he knew she had been hiding something.
"I know you to be the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful woman in the world," Raff said soberly, "I know you are the woman that I want by my side for the rest of my life. One day, when I am old and on my death-bed, I want your touch to be the last thing I feel."
"Please," Emily cried, tugging herself away from him forcefully, "Please don't say such kind words, when I have done nothing but lie to you. I am not the woman you think me to be, please believe me."
She had lied to him? Raff pondered what on earth it was that she could have lied to him about. Perhaps, he thought wildly, someone had taken advantage of her, and she was afraid that he would no longer want her.
"Has someone hurt you?" he questioned harshly, anger—rage—like he had never felt roaring in his chest. "If someone has done something to you, tell me. I'll run him through with a sword."
"No," Emily placed a fatigued hand on her brow, "It is I who has hurt you. You must believe me, Your Grace, I am not the type of woman that you want as your duchess."
"Raff," he corrected her lightly, reining in his anger, for the woman before him resembled a startled doe, liable to bolt at the slightest provocation. "I beg you, call me Raff."
"There is no sweeter sound on earth, than that of a lover calling your name," Emily whispered, quoting a poem that Raff vaguely recognised.
"Emily," he whispered, reaching out for her again.
He must have moved too fast, for his frightened doe took a step back at the mention of her name.
"Forgive me," she said, smoothing down the front of her dress, before running nervous fingers through he damp hair, "I must get back inside, before anyone notices that I am gone."
"Of course," Raff bowed his head; it seemed that he would not be able to persuade her to marry him this night.
Tomorrow, he thought determinedly, as Lady Emily turned on the heel of her slipper and disappeared back inside the ball room.
Raff lingered outside on the terrace, not minding that his coat was now sodden from the rain, or that Thomas would give him hell the next morning for ruining his silk waistcoat. His lungs still felt raw after his attack and he preferred to stay and breathe in the cool, fresh air of the garden, rather than face the stuffy atmosphere of the ballroom. He idly followed the path of the terrace, which wrapped itself around the grand house, until he came to a side gate, and decided that there was no point in returning to the festivities.
The next party that he attended, he vowed as he slipped outside in search of his waiting carriage, would be his wedding to Lady Emily.
The next afternoon Raff returned from Parliament, to find Kilbride House in an uproar.
"What's happened?" he questioned Laura, who rushed out to the entrance hall to greet him.
"It's Georgiana," Laura's face was pale with worry, "She's disappeared."
Disappeared? Raff raised a speculative eyebrow; how could a girl who never went anywhere without a chaperone disappear? Surely Laura was mistaken?
"Are you certain?" he asked, as he handed his hat to the footman and ushered his sister in law into the drawing room, "She's not hiding under her bed, or something like that?"
"She is fourteen, Raff," Laura snapped, "She hasn't hidden under her bed since she was a child. She was upset this morning, then she went out with Mildred to pay a call. When she returned home she told Mildred she was going to lie down for an hour, but no one has seen her since."
"What was she so upset about?" Raff questioned brusquely, his manner more serious now that he knew this wasn't a practical joke on Georgiana's part."
"She didn't say," Laura cried, "But after her call to Lady Emily, Mildred said that she was much worse."
Lady Emily? Lud; Raff stifled a curse—he knew exactly what all this was about.
That morning at breakfast Georgiana had been reading the papers, an act that her mother forbade, but one which Raff indulged. His young niece adored reading the gossip pages and who was he to deny her such a trivial pleasure?
That morning, however, he had rather wished that he had taken a firmer line with Georgiana.
