Page 3 of The Odd Riddle of the Lost Duchess
At the age of twenty, she had almost been labeled past marriageable age, and a bluestocking. Her previous season was at the age of eight-and-ten when her father had been alive. He had succumbed to influenza mere months after her coming out. His death had coincided with the Duke of Newberry going off to Paris for a year.
Now, however, with the stabilization of the dukedom, her brother George, the Duke of Leverton, was resolute in arranging a season to find her a suitable husband.
“And what might you be escaping from, Lady Emmeline? Some unsuitable suitors perhaps, or is the wine not to your liking?” the Duke asked. “My Lady, you will not find relief from any of that anywhere in London, unless you decide to run to Scotland.”
What is his aim with that suggestion? To aggravate me?Emmeline wondered crossly.
“That sounds much more appealing than being in your company,” Emmeline suggested, annoyed.
He chuckled and after crushing the cigar, departed. She saw a flicker of dark hair and an aristocratic face as he walked away from her without a word. She knew she had been a tad rude, but she had craved silence to think and plan her next move.
It was known that Croxton House, the homestead of Viscount Croxton, who had shared the same inquisitive passions as her father, housed rare medieval volumes, and modern books on science, theology, and exoteric cultures, and Emmeline was set on examining them.
Her friend Ann had not yet arrived in the gardens, and it would not do well for her reputation, to be waiting outside for long. She needed to return inside, but not to the ballroom, to the library. She attempted to walk unnoticed to the spiral stairs, however, her aunt, Lady Alford, spotted her and was making her way towards her, so Emmeline fled.
Bypassing the first set of stairs, she rushed to the second spiral staircase at the farther end of the hall and climbed to the next floor. Two carved oak doors indicated the entrance to the library, and, as Emmeline walked in, she let out a breath.
It was a relief that the hinges were well-oiled, for she did not wish to alert anyone of her presence with a noisome squeak. The lack of people was very much welcome, and soothing for Emmeline’s jarred nerves. She could not bear to be introduced to another eligible bachelor that evening.
Aunt Catherine’s London townhouse had become a prison for Emmeline. She was scrutinized all day, by the gentlemen whom called upon her every morning to demand her company, either for a carriage ride into Hyde Park, or for tea at her Aunt’s home.
Accustomed to a solitary life at her country manor, Emmeline detested being exposed to innumerable social demands. Her brother, on the contrary, enjoyed the entertainment offered by London–he was seen often in gaming halls and privileged gentleman’s clubs.
George also possibly enjoys the company of women of questionable character,Emmeline thought darkly.But he’d have me married off immediately to a wealthy titled man, while he does as he pleases.
Emmeline knew that it was hardly fitting to be wandering into a library unaccompanied by her friend or aunt, but if someone came upon her, she could always make an excuse–flimsy as it was–of looking for the retiring room.
However, examining the room was irresistible for her. She focused on the magnificent library before her. It was apparent, by the beautifully-carved staircase to the enclave above, that Lord Croxton indulged in books. Unceremoniously discarding her filmy gold shawl, Emmeline lifted her skirts with one hand and began climbing the delicate stairway.
* * *
Noah, the Duke of Newberry, after rejoining the ballroom, had observed the spectacle before him with great amusement and a bit of dislike. This tableau reminded him why he had avoided theses soirees and balls for years. Unable to accept the pretentiousness and frivolities, he had steered far from social events unless requested by a lady he was pursuing. Thus, he sought solitude in the library, waiting for his friend, Henry, to join him.
It was hardly surprising that he would have met Lady Emmeline Grant in the garden, but he was surprised to see her there in the library. He silently watched her as she dumped her shawl on a chair, not even sparing him a glance, and then he realized that she was possibly in pursuit of a specific book.
It struck him that she did not find him outstanding enough to be noticed, as he reclined in a chair near the fireplace
Emmeline was a…perplexity to him. He remembered that day on her lawns like it was yesterday–how he had slipped from his Uncle’s supervision to go discover his surroundings.
He remembered seeing the young girl, the ends of her dark blue dress marked with grass stains, with a concentrated frown on her face as she was about to capture the firefly. Now that young child was a grown lady with a mind he respected and a temper that taunted him.
Looking at her as she ascended the stairs, he saw an inappropriate amount of ankle clad in delicate stockings. Noah’s eyebrows rocketed to his hair as he pondered on the beauty of her trim limbs.
Suddenly, she tripped on the hem of her gown.
Muttering an oath, Noah launched himself up from his seat, mere meters from the staircase, and dashed to Emmeline’s rescue, hoping he could catch her before she broke her neck. He was almost too late. She had nearly fallen on her back when Noah’s arms enclosed her around her narrow waist.
“Heavens!” she cried softly.
A flowery aroma emanated from her hair, which smelled extremely pleasant to Noah. “Are you aiming to break your neck, My Lady?” he asked, his voice harsh as a whip.
She recoiled from his words, and seeing her flinch, let go of her. She turned around, her tawny eyes widening in surprise before dimming. “Of course not, Your Grace, I have no intention of giving you that pleasure.”
This close, Noah drank in the sight of her. Emmeline did not possess all the classical features of the aristocracy. Her cheekbones weren’t arched, and her skin wasn’t as pale as alabaster, but her changeable eyes, straight nose, and plump lips were intriguing–especially the indentation in her right cheek that was visible as she spoke.
“A thank you would have sufficed,” Noah replied while pulling his hands away.
The two stood in stifled silence with Emmeline’s body stiff and her gaze wary, before Noah uttered, “I will not hurt you, you know. A gentleman does not hurt ladies.”
