Page 84 of The Odd Riddle of the Lost Duchess
Sighing, Noah rested his forehead on hers and whispered on her closed lips. “I could never hold it against you and I’m so sorry for doing so. Do you remember when I asked you, where do you see yourself in the future, Emmeline?”
Emmeline smiled as she pulled her head away, “Yes, and I replied that I couldn’t speculate what my future would be at that point. I told you that I wished to be married to one I can truly love, not only for money. After all–”
“What is gaining the whole world, but losing your soul?” Noah said with her, before twining his fingers with hers. “Emmeline, I thought I had lost my very life when you were dead. Everything looked so bleak around me that I swore the sun itself was gone. I felt cold, Emmeline, cold and hateful and revengeful. I was not myself. I had no idea that I could become so hollow at times, and such a beast at others. Which is why I now pledge on my life, that I will give you the world, and my soul, so you will not have any reason to lose either of those. I see us, thirty, fifty years from now, with this love we have, grown even deeper. Do you see it, too?”
Emmeline’s head was tilted to the side and a smile was formed by her plump lips, “I never–not for one moment–doubted that. Do you promise to love me when I’m old and frail and misquote Hamlet for Macbeth?”
Noah’s mirth was audible but his face didn’t show it, “I’ll probably be the one calling Claudius for Banquo, not you.”
“And I will still love you for it,” Emmeline said, while leaning forward to kiss him on his cheek. “So…we are getting married.”
Noah looked stricken, “Yes, but God will frown upon me if I don’t do it properly.” He then slipped off the chaise and unto one knee. The sun, shining behind her through the glass, made a halo surround her head–which only made Noah sure he was about to marry an angel.
“Lady Emmeline Harriet Grant, the wisdom to my folly, the peace to my unrest, the love to my loneliness, will you do me the honor of marrying me? A rich but wretched Duke who will calmly explain the rules of physics to an attentive ear, and who will risk life and limb to climb ivy trellises to prove his love?”
A slanted smile blessed Emmeline’s face, “Yes, I will marry this rich but wretched Duke… but I cannot promise to be all that attentive to the laws of physics.”
Noah laughed, stood, tugged her into his arms and hugged her tightly, “Physics is a tedious subject my love, so I will not fault you for it.”
With her arms wrapped around Noah’s neck, Emmeline smiled, “Be that is it may, I’m warning you from now, George is going to be a menace with this wedding. It’s in your best interest to let him have his way.”
Noah chuckled and brushed a strand of her hair back, “Now my love, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”
* * *
The Dowager Duchess died shortly after, even before the arrangements were complete to move her to the Dowager’s Lodge in the grounds. The Newberry household had woken up one morning to find the older lady had died in her bed during the night. Opinions on the actual cause varied, from a failed liver to malnutrition, to the devil coming to claim an evil soul–all of which, to Emmeline’s mind, could be true.
Epilogue
Seven Weeks Later
Saint George’s Church in Hanover Square
If Emmeline had thought that her presentation to the King some months ago was rattling, it wasn’t half as unsettling as the day of her wedding.
The intimidating structure of Saint George’s Church in Hanover Square flustered Emmeline’s nerves so fiercely that she felt compelled to ask her bridesmaids, Ann, and Lady Alford, to leave her so she could breathe freely once they had gotten settled in an antechamber in the Chapel Royal.
“You’ll be fine, then?” Ann, now the Duchess of Leverton, asked hesitatingly.
“Yes,” Emmeline replied with a shaky smile, “I just need a moment.”
The bridal party had arrived at the iconic church an hour before and had separated into different areas, with the bride and her ladies to one and the groom and his men to another.
Both Emmeline and Noah had wanted a simple and private ceremony as Emmeline had greatly disliked the public nature of such a grand proclamation, and Noah selfishly wanted her for himself. They had been all set on a small Chapel and a small gathering for such an important day in her life but George had insisted on a lavish affair.
The issue had gotten so stiff that the two Dukes had almost broken their truce to deteriorate into fisticuffs but Emmeline had played peacemaker. She had told Noah that she’d take care of it.
And taken care of it she had. Not one to be put off, Emmeline had bargained with George to whittle down the hundreds of peers–she would have invited only twenty-five. To change the reception hall from one of Almack’s large assembly rooms to the ballroom at the Newberry Estate.
After pausing for a long moment, George had agreed, on the condition she could have the private ceremony and the reception of her choice, if he had power over the rest. Which included where the ceremony would take place, the issuing of the banns, sourcing the finest parchment for invitations, appropriating the best cooks and confectionaries for the breakfast feast, and even getting the finest silver embroidery and lace for a wedding dress made by the finest dressmaker in France.
Looking at her white-gloved hand resting upon the silver lamé over white silk gown, Emmeline breathed in deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to quell the anxiety crawling through her chest. This was the day she was going to marry the man she loved with her whole soul–Noah Fitzroy, the Duke of Newberry. So why was this nervousness taking such a hold of her? She should be overjoyed, not edgy to the point of illness.
She needed to focus on the bliss that was coming soon. After the ceremony, she and Noah were going to whisked away to the vineyard home Newberry owned in the south of England. She didn’t need to think of and be intimidated by the aristocracy that would be inside the church, or of the stately presence of the Archbishop, in his white robe, who was going to preside over the ceremony. She needed to focus on the white roses changing the interior to one of a heavenly paradise.
Emmeline closed her eyes and thought back to the moment George had carried her home to their mother, now five months ago, after the Duchess of Newberry had exposed the Dowager Duchess’ evil plot. While the carriage was nearing their home, George had cautioned her to stay in the foyer so he could prepare their mother, so she wouldn’t be too startled.
“She fell ill again, Emmeline,” George explained, as the carriage came to the front of the manor. “She has been grieving you ever since being told of your disappearance, and has never stopped.”
