Page 43 of The Earl's Christmas Deal
It was not long before they returned to the manor, and Emilia dispensed with her cloak as Lord Bellebrook and Lord Spencer walked together toward the library.
Emilia was about to join Charlotte when her mother strode across her path, her expression tight and displeased.
“A word, Emilia,” she hissed, and Emilia had no choice but to follow her. She glanced behind her to see where her father had got to and saw him watching them retreat with a resigned expression.
This cannot be good.She thought miserably.
Her mother drew her into a parlour room that was rarely used. It was small and cold, and the windows faced the rear courtyard. The wallpaper was of a livid green with thrushes and cranes fluttering across it and the whole effect was rather gloomy and confused.
Her mother closed the door behind her and came to stand before her daughter, glaring at her with a calculating gaze that made Emilia want to cower into a corner.
“Explain yourself this moment,” her mother insisted.
“Mama?”
“Do not play dumb with me, Emilia. What did I just witness between you and Lord Bellebrook?”
Emilia frowned. At the back of her mind, she had dared to hope that her mother would simply switch her affections seamlessly from the duke to the earl once she learned the truth. But by the expression on Lady Sternwood’s face, it had been a fool’s hope.
Her mother had always been a social climber, and since the scandal, she had not coped well with the doors of good society becoming closed to her. Emilia realised with depressing certainty that her mother viewed the duke as a better option for her, merely due to his title and the opportunities it might afford her.
“Mama, I merely slipped.”
“He was at your side for the entirety of the morning. I have seen you speaking to one another a great deal, and do not remind me of your behaviour in the gardens yesterday. Did you want me to die of shame?”
“It was just a snowball fight, Mama.”
“And you are a lady, not a child of eight.”
Her mother seemed to change tack as Emilia recoiled from her and walked toward her, taking her hands and looking at her imploringly.
“Do not let the chance with the duke slip away, my dear. He is a great match. No one will be able to question your reputation if you marry him. Lord Bellebrook is a widower who has barely been seen in society since his wife’s death. There have been many rumours that he will never remarry andthat hewas so in love with Anastasia Bentley that his heart will never be mended.” She squeezed Emilia’s fingers painfully. “The duke knows what he wants and has been clear with me and your father. What has Lord Bellebrook done? Nothing. You cannot trust anyone who does not make their intentions clear.”
He has proposed to me, Mama. Is that clear enough?
“Yes, Mama.”
“I wish to see you settled in life. I always have.”
Emilia noted the use of the word ‘settled,’ not ‘happy.’ Her mother wanted to return to the exalted halls of her peers and be welcomed with open arms. The duke’s status and his eldest daughters' advantageous marriages would allow her mother to circulate in the higher echelons that she craved. Emilia knew how much that would mean to both of her parents, and she wished she could be selfless enough to grant it to them.
But the idea of the duke marrying her, or even beingcloseto her,revolted her. To her surprise, another thought immediately followed the other, and she found herself wondering what it might be like if Lord Bellebrook were to take her hand or perhaps brush her arm. The thought brought a warm flush to her cheeks, which she hoped her mother’s sharp gaze had not noticed.
“Choose wisely, my dear. Life does not give us these chances often.”
Without another word, her mother swept from the room, leaving Emilia in a tangle of confusion and uncertainty.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Adam and Lionel had settled themselves before the fire in the library. The snow had begun to fall again and it was cozy and warm inside the room.
To Adam’s great amusement, Lionelwas still reading Keats’ poetry, determined to finish it and tell Miss Fairfax his thoughts before Christmas. It appeared that simplyreadingthe thing was not good enough. Lionel had already finished it twice and was trying to fathom all the hidden meanings within each poem in order to impress the lady.
Adam left his cousin to it. Lionel was always calm and quiet, and they fell into a companionable silence for many minutes until there was a knock on the door.
Both men looked up as Adam’s aunt poked her head around it, seemingly relieved to see that Adam was present.
“Did you need me, Mama?” Lionel asked dutifully.
