Page 45 of The Odd Riddle of the Lost Duchess
“No!” the Duchess interjected, “these are not sad tears, Emmeline, these are happy ones! Satisfied ones, in fact! For many years I’ve prayed for something like this to come about, even when your father was alive. I had hoped that he would be the one to make peace, but if the mantle has fallen on your shoulders, you must do all you can!”
“But, Mother,” Emmeline added after she had swallowed her shock, “George is unbending. I cannot even see Noah with George keeping watch over me.”
“That stubborn boy,” her mother huffed. “Your grandfather has poisoned him too deeply, and stained his soul to pitch black against the Newberry duchy.”
“But what can I do, Mother?” Emmeline mourned. “He is resolute in keeping me away from my love. I’ve tried to persuade him.”
“I will find you a way,” the Duchess emphasized, “but are you sure this love is real, Emmeline? Not something you have conjured up out of those books you’ve read?”
“As sure as the sun in the sky, Mother,” Emmeline replied. “I have never been so sure of anything in my life.”
“Hm,” her mother hummed. “Give me some tea and tell me how this love came about, dear.”
Pouring some of the tea and dropping a spoon of honey inside for her mother, Emmeline began the tale from the Croxton Manor, to the masquerade ball where she danced with Hades, to the ride through Hyde Park. She recounted every meet with Noah in a soft loving tone, laced with admiration and respect.
After she related what happened at the Benwicks, and admitted her plot with Ann, Emmeline sighed deeply. “He told me he will marry me, Mother. Come what may, he said he will make me his wife.”
“From what I’ve heard…he sounds like a wonderful man, ready to defend you, and protect you,” her mother added. “I could not ask for more, my dear.”
Emmeline looked into the dregs of her cup and smiled balefully, “I do not want more either, Mother. I believe he is the one for me, despite all the issues we both face. His mother does not like me, and I know his grandmother still despises us, as she is still set in the belief that we supposedly killed her husband.”
“All that can be worked through,” the Duchess replied with a wave of her hand. “The only thing we have to figure out is–”
A knock was heard, and the Duchess paused to permit entry. The housekeeper, a Mrs. Green, entered and curtseyed, “Your Grace, His Grace has arrived and is requesting an audience with you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Green, show him in,” the Duchess replied before shooting a look at Emmeline, ordering her to be quiet.
With her hands busy buttering the breakfast rolls, Emmeline hummed a tune under her breath and waited for George to enter. When he did, Emmeline could see a strange look on his face and tightness around his eyes.
“George,” the Duchess cried happily, “how was London, dear son?”
The Duke’s lips thinned before he spoke, “Tiresome, Mother, but profitable.”
His hard tone held a finality, clearly discouraging anyone from asking any more facts about the trip.
“Please sit,” his mother gestured, “I was just speaking to Emmeline about what happened at the Benwicks.”
George shot a glance at Emmeline, one loaded with anger and wariness, before his mother blithely continued, “I heard it was a happy engagement, son, that you and the rest of your peers had a fitting end to the season.”
With her head down, Emmeline controlled her reaction when she realized that her mother was lying for her, so she did not say a word to the contradictory. When she did lift up her head, she met George’s eyes and held the gaze while their mother spoke.
“How is Lord Bexley, son?” the Duchess asked.
“He is well, Mother,” George replied, while not moving his eyes from his sister’s.
“And…Lord Croxton, was it?” his mother prodded.
“He isn’t very active this season, Mother,” George replied. “But he is well, also. His business in Germany and the Colonies continually demands his time and presence.”
“Oh, I see, I see,” the Duchess added while nibbling on a buttered roll handed to her by Emmeline, “and what of the Newberrys?”
George’s jaw only tightened a little, “What of them, Mother?”
The Duchess’ expression was innocent, “I know the son has taken over the duchy from his father, so he had to be at the meeting in London, hadn’t he? So, how is he?”
“He is nothing but another card in the government’s hand, Mother,” George grated, “I was forced to make peace with him yesterday.”
A hope sprung into Emmeline’s system so strongly her head felt light. But just as she was about to ask, George’s glare dried up the very words on the tip of her tongue.
