The Emerald Duchess (6 page)

He began speaking again. “Sorry to hear that Tony has hopped the Channel, m’dear, leavin’ you all alone. But do not fear; we are all eager to keep you company. Least we can do, friends of Tony that we are.” He smiled slyly, and Lady Quentin smiled back at this obvious ploy. “Do you attend Lady Jersey’s reception tonight? I would consider it an honor to escort you.

The lady thanked him, but said she did not plan to attend, and Lord Andrews was quick to remonstrate with her, pointing out all the reasons why she should not bury herself in a nunnery while her husband was gone.

“If I might pass?” a deep, harsh voice said behind Emily, and she jumped a little and turned to one side. The gentleman trying to pass stared at her and checked his stride. It was the Duke of Wrotherham, and as Lady Quentin continued to chat, he murmured, “Can it be possible that you do not need to be rescued this afternoon, Miss Nelson? Behold me, at your service.”

He smiled at her, and Emily clasped her hands together tightly. She had no idea how she was supposed to answer this sally, so she only shook her head, in her confusion, forgetting to curtsy.

“I see you have managed to keep the same mistress, girl,” the duke continued. “Is her husband blind?”

At this Emily’s eyes darkened, and the duke admired their emerald fire. “Not all men are philanderers, sir. The captain loves his wife,” she admonished him.

“He certainly must, how refreshing! But, then, he is a bridegroom, is he not? I think it safe to prophecy that you will not remain in the Quentins’ employ for more than a year. Do you care to wager on it?” His dark eyes were warm, and yet they taunted her with the dare, and Emily put up her chin and turned her back, seemingly fascinated with a high-perch phaeton that was passing by. The duke chuckled, and Lord Andrews caught sight of him.

“Your Grace, well met! I have just been trying to convince Lady Quentin that she must not fall into the megrims now that Tony has gone to the wars. Do add your entreaty to mine, if you please! Lady Jersey’s reception will be a desert this evening if she does not grace it.”

Lady Quentin curtsied to the duke, who swept her a graceful bow, removing his beaver from his shining black hair as he did so. Emily thought it looked just like a crow’s wing, dark and smooth. “I am afraid I cannot do so in a convincing manner, m’lord,” he remarked. “I am sailing myself in a few days and have no more time for balls and receptions.”

“Are you indeed, your Grace?” Lady Quentin asked in real interest. “It seems all England is removing abroad. So, you go to see Napoleon beaten as well.”

“Hardly that,” the duke replied. “I do not hold with sigh
t
seers at the battlefield. I travel on a small commission for the Foreign Office. And now you must excuse me, Lady Quentin, Lord Andrews
...
” He bowed, and replacing his I beaver while he stared at Emily, he nodded to her before he strode away.

Emily barely noticed his stare. So this was Lord Andrews! She shivered a little, remembering his father’s love letters to Althea Wyndham, and she was glad there was no possibility that the young peer could know her real identity.

Lady Quentin continued firm in her refusal to attend the evening’s party and before long was driving away, leaving a puzzled young man staring after her carriage. Lord Andrews did not do so for long, however, but turned his thoughts to the lady’s maid as he resumed his stroll. She was so beautiful—with those unusual emerald-green eyes, and silvery blond hair that gleamed in the sunlight like the finest satin, and her trim,
high-bosomed figure—that he could not remember when he had been so struck. He promised himself he would be most assiduous in attending Alicia while Tony was away. Perhaps if he did so, he would be able to convince her lovely servant that she was wasting her talents maiding Lady Quentin.

The Duke of Wrotherham was also thinking of Lady Quentin’s maid, and with much the same admiration for her beauty, but unlike Lord Andrews, he was not planning to seduce her if he could. Servants, no matter how lovely and curvaceous, were not his style.

Meanwhile, Lady Quentin was asking Emily where she had met the duke, her voice a little stiff. “For it was obvious, Nelly, that he knew you. My, the Duke of Wrotherham! He has barely condescended to speak to me all the time I have been in town, but he had a smile for you.”

Emily could see she was suspicious, and was quick to tell her how the duke had rescued her in the park, omitting any mention of his second rescue at Hartley Hall. She was glad when Lady Quentin turned the subject to the shopping she intended to do.

What on earth is the matter with me? she wondered as Lady Quentin continued to chat. Why had her heart pounded and her mouth grown dry when the duke stood so close to her, and why had her breath been so shallow and unsteady?

Was she attracted to him, even as arrogant and unattainable as he was? She determined to put him from her mind.

Lady Quentin made some rather unusual purchases that afternoon that had Emily in a quandary. Why did the lady feel the need for a most severe waterproof cape? And what on earth possessed her to buy such stout boots? She had never put anything but the flimsiest sandals on her little feet. But Lady Quentin did not explain, so Emily accompanied her home none the wiser.

The next day, Lady Quentin received a Lord and Lady Daggleston for tea. They remained together in the drawing room for some time, and as Lady Quentin went with them to the front hall as they were leaving, Emily heard the end of the conversation.

“What fun it will be, Alicia,” Lady Daggleston said gaily. The lady was a plump, breathless redhead whom Emily had often heard her mistress castigate as having more hair than wit, and her husband, Lord Daggleston, as not much better. “I am so glad you are coming with us. So touching!”

“Happy to have your company, m’lady,” her husband agreed. “Perfectly safe, y’know. And, of course, everything will be first-class, for a Daggleston knows what’s what. To think we will hear the glorious news before anyone else. A hit! A palpable hit!”

Emily was confused, but as Miss Quentin arrived shortly thereafter and went upstairs with Lady Quentin so she might change her clothes for a drive in the park with Lady Racklin, she did not discover what was go
i
ng on. Lady Quentin did not mention the Daggleston’s visit to her sister-in-law. Miss Quentin was annoyed that she had arrived just as Alicia was going out.

“I see you are still flitting about, Sister,” she said as she sat and watched Emily adjust a stunning bonnet of white straw covered with tiny pink flowers on Lady Quentin’s soft brown curls. “You will become known as a here-and-thereian! And that bonnet looks monstrous expensive, as well as being much too gay!”

“It is becoming, is it not?” Lady Quentin agreed, turning her head so she might admire the effect. Miss Quentin sniffed, and she turned to her. “Do you think I should dress in sober gray, Bella, because Tony is in Belgium? I am sure he would wish me to carry on as usual. And how absurd when Napoleon has made no move to engage our forces.” She laughed and took up a matching pink parasol. “Come, what good would it do?”

Miss Quentin drew in her breath sharply. “Of course there is no need for you to be forever weeping into your handkerchief, Alicia,” she said coldly. “But there is also no need for you to flit about as if you didn’t have a care in the world. Such behavior ill becomes Tony’s wife.”

Lady Quentin walked to the door. “You will allow me to know what becomes me, if you please,” she said in quite the sharpest tone Emily had ever heard her use. “And now you must excuse me, Bella. If you continue to drop in without notice, you will very often find me out, I’m afraid. And really, Bella, it is the outside of enough for you to claim that I am flitting about. Going for a sedate drive in the park with General Racklin’s wife? She must be sixty if she’s a day.” She left the room, forcing her sister-in-law to follow. There was a bewildered look in those hard brown eyes and a tiny frown between her brows as she was forced to take her leave.

Still Lady Quentin did not take her maid into her confidence, but one evening she called Emily much earlier than she usually did. Emily discovered her sitting before the fire in her bedroom. As she curtsied and would have gone to fetch her nightgown, Lady Quentin said, “Sit down with me, Nelly. I have something of great importance to discuss with you.” Emily took the seat opposite, feeling confused. It was in no way usual for Lady Quentin to ask her maid to sit and chat, but she composed herself and waited quietly.

Lady Quentin stared into the flames for a moment before she began to speak. “I have made up my mind to follow Tony,” she said finally. “Half of England is already in Belgium. Why should I not be too?”

“But, m’lady,” Emily protested, “can it be wise?”

“Perhaps not, but I am going to my husband regardless.” Here Lady Quentin rose to pace the room, and Emily was so astonished at her firm tones and air of decision that she forgot to rise as well. “I have been thinking a great deal since Tony left,” Lady Quentin went on. “And I see now that I should never have allowed my mother’s instructions on wifely behavior to rule my actions. I was wrong to have listened to her and pretended this stupid indifference to Tony. And I should
have taken steps as soon as we were married to gently but firmly remove Bella’s talons from our lives.”

She paused and came to sit down again, adding, “Now Tony is gone and I may never see him again. I cannot bear to remain here, letting the precious moments that we might be together slip away.”

Emily’s head was reeling, for she had promised the captain to care for his wife, now it appeared she was to help her into danger. But her heart leapt at the news, for in her mind the little voice was saying, “And the duke is there too, isn’t he, dearie?”

“I have quite made up my mind. And you shall come with me,” Lady Quentin was saying.

She paused until Emily nodded, and then she confided, “I have made arrangements to travel with Lord and Lady Daggleston. We leave in three days’ time, so you see we will have to bustle about to be ready.”

“But ... but what about Miss Quentin?” Emily could not help asking. “You know how angry she will be—”

“But I will not tell her anything until the evening before our departure. I know Bella will try to stop me, although it is none of her business. And if I tell her before, she will insist on coming with me. She should, of course, be delighted to have me remove from Hubert Andrews’ vicinity. He has been forever on the doorstep lately, and Bella has remarked it. Besides, I am traveling with the Dagglestons.”

“But she will object even so,” Emily could not help pointing out.

“Oh, I know that. But I am more than a match for her in this case,” Lady Quentin assured her maid. And looking at her determined gray eyes and firm mouth, Emily had to admit she was probably right.

She had certainly handled Lord Andrews very well. Emily knew of his constant visiting, but she herself had only seen him once, one afternoon when he called just as Lady Quentin was preparing to leave the house. Emily had retreated to the back hall at once, much to the young peer’s regret, but she had heard Lady Quentin scolding him and asking him, in exactly the same determined voice she had just used, to moderate his visits.

Now she knew why Lady Quentin had bought such strange things, and in the following days she was very busy packing them, as well as the rest of her mistress’s clothes, and her own besides. Lady Quentin told her there were just as many amusements in Brussels as there were in London, so along with the waterproof and the stout shoes, fragile ball gowns and delicate morning dresses, satin sandals, cosmetics, and jewels went into the trunks and cases as well.

The evening before their departure, Emily eased her aching back as she stood up after packing the last gown and checked her list to make sure she had not forgotten anything, especially the medicines Lady Quentin had purchased.

Downstairs in the dining room she was entertaining her sister-in-law and the Dagglestons at dinner, and informing Bella of her plans at the same time. Emily, eating her own dinner in the kitchen, heard from Perry the footman what transpired every time he returned from the dining room with another tray.

“Whew!” he said, wiping his brow. “Not ’alf ’appy, she ain’t I
don't
think. If looks could kill! ’Ere’s milady and those other two drinking to their journey, and there sits Miss, a black look on her face and not a word out of her!”

“There will be,” Mrs. Goodwell said. “There will be!” And of course she was right. The Dagglestons took their leave early, and they were to begin their journey at eight the next morning. Emily was waiting at the top of the stairs, and she was surprised to hear her mistress invite Miss Quentin to come up to her room.

“I see you wish to speak to me Bella. Let us be private,” she said calmly as she led the way up the winding stairs, and from what Emily could see of Miss Quentin’s pinched face and
stern
expression, she could tell the interview was not going to be at all pleasant. She retired to the dressing room and shamelessly eavesdropped.

“How could you, Alicia?” Miss Quentin began before she was even seated. She stared around the room at the traveling bags and trunks. “If Tony wanted you with him, he would have taken you along. How can you be so harebrained, and to go with the Dagglestons, too? I do not consider either of them suitable chaperons.
”