Page 17 of The Odd Riddle of the Lost Duchess
“Ask her,” Emmeline said abruptly.
George scowled at his sister, who had appeared out of thin air. “Ask who what, Emmeline?”
“Ann, of course. Why do not you ask her to dance?” Emmeline said casually.
“What were you doing dancing with Newberry, Emmeline?” demanded George, redirecting the attention upon her. “I am certain you are aware of the enmity that exists between our families.”
“George,” Emmeline said finally, completely disgruntled. “Aunt Catherine believed it was good for my reputation to receive attention from a well-renowned Duke. I wonder, though, why I have to explain every action of mine to you when you’re mum on your affairs!”
“I am the head of the family now, Sister,” George said bitterly. “It is my duty to be certain you find a good match. And that is certainly not with one belonging to a rival family.”
“Do not try to make me feel guilty,” Emmeline snapped in a furious whisper. “Yes, you are the head of the house and you can certainly control my actions but come to your senses–this ancient enmity is madness!”
Fury laced George’s chest, “I can see how contrary your loyalties become.”
“You are a hypocrite to your faith, George.” Emmeline replied, “Therefore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.”
“Fitzroy is not my brother.” George snapped. “Don’t you dare put me in the same category as an animal.”
* * *
Lady Alford tutted as she approached Emmeline. “For a soft-spoken girl, my dear, your tongue can cut like a knife at times.”
Emmeline’s cheeks flushed. Her aunt had obviously witnessed the argument. “Aunt, he had difficulty with my dance with the Duke. Why does it matter? It is not as if he is going to offer me marriage,” Emmeline said in a very low voice. “But that is not the matter, he knows this feud is foolish, but he cannot–will not–relent.”
Emmeline’s blood was simmering under her skin. “Aunt, I find myself…being drawn to Noah. And George is ruining my–ugh. I cannot stand his stubbornness!”
She did not realize her slip of the tongue, saying Noah’s name instead of his title, or realize the effect it had on her Aunt. So, caught up in her anger, Emmeline did not see the widened eyes of Lady Alford, or the sympathetic look that she received after.
“Will he ever let go?” Emmeline mourned.
“Nothing is impossible, my child,” her aunt replied, “Nothing is impossible. In my experience, God had his plans, but most of the time we have to meet him halfway.”
Emmeline sighed as the fight left her body in one whoosh. She looked at her brother, and over at the dancing Noah and Ann, “But where is that halfway point, I wonder…?”
Chapter 5
A Dawn Appointment
The sudden arrival of three gentlemen calling upon Emmeline had caused a flurry of activity within the household. Emmeline feared her neck was going to spasm soon, as she kept twisting to speak with one or another of the three gathered in the south parlor of Lady Alford’s London townhouse.
It was hard to keep up with the various replies on the topic of conversation, the government. One Lord backed the Tories, the second was for the Whigs, and the last despised the King with a passion.
An excellent assortment of chocolate eclairs, fruit tarts, scones, crumpets, and delicious lemon cake, were being steadily devoured from the tea tray. As Lady Alford was an aficionado of exotic tea, there were three choices of leaves.
Emmeline noticed that her aunt was thoroughly enjoying herself, displaying her niece to her full advantage, and encouraging each gentleman as if Emmeline was to marry thrice, not once. She was just about to reply to one of her suitors when Hudgins proclaimed the arrival of the one man she wanted to see.
“His Grace, the Duke of Newberry, ” announced the butler.
Emmeline’s heart skipped a beat at the name, her fingers trembling ever so slightly, and her eyes widening. She snatched back her control with desperation, in case anyone was watching her.
The Duke entered the room, once again striking in his attire, snowy white cravat and shirt, paired with a waistcoat of the darkest blue Emmeline had ever seen. She heartily approved of the gentleman’s sense of style.
“Your Grace,” cried Lady Alford. “What a wondrous surprise.”
The Duke’s smoky gray eyes surveyed the room, finally settling on Emmeline’s elegant form.
“I was in the neighborhood, My Lady,” the Duke explained. He addressed the three other gentlemen present and then ignored them entirely. “Lord Jackson, Lord Dickinson, and Lord Manning, good day, sirs.”
