“I saw you last night,” Emery pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “When I convinced Henry to dance with you.”
Georgina’s expression instantly became embarrassed, and she quickly took a sip of her tea and set it back down on the table. “Er, yes, that was a strange incident,” she murmured. “I don’t know why Henry was so reluctant to dance with me.”
Emery said nothing. Part of her desperately wanted to ask her friend if there was an understanding between her and Henry. Another part of her was afraid to ask. It was very possible Georgina hadn’t even admitted her feelings to herself for fear of hurting Emery. And Emery didn’t want to force her to confront them before they were ready. But Georgina was her best friend in the world, and she would have liked to be able to gossip together about the man that had captured her fancy.
“I’m just glad he did decide to dance with you in the end,” Emery said at last, deciding this was a neutral enough response. “You made for a very handsome couple.”
This last comment was pushing it, perhaps, but it made Georgina smile, so Emery decided it wasn’t too presumptuous.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m sorry I haven’t written more about what’s going on in my marriage. At first, I didn’t write because I was so miserable about what had happened to me, and I couldn’t bear to speak of it with anyone. But then, I didn’t write because things got so busy. We were preparing to go to London, Lucien put me in these etiquette lessons, and--”
“You call your husband by his first name?” Georgina interrupted.
“Er--yes. He asked me to a few days previously.”
“Andhe got you an expensive bouquet of flowers?”
“Yes…”
Georgina’s expression had gone from surprised to intrigued, and she leaned toward Emery conspiratorially.
“Do you think… that is to say… is there something between you and the Duke?”
“What? No! Of course not!” Emery sputtered, so taken aback that she felt her stomach lurch. “Ours was a marriage of convenience! Or really, a marriage of necessity--and neither of us were happy about it.”
“Yes, but just because it started that way doesn’t mean it has to remain that way,” Georgina said wisely. She leaned back in her chair and smiled at Emery. “And if you ask me, it seems as if the Duke has feelings for you. Tender feelings.”
“No, he couldn’t! He doesn’t believe in that kind of thing.”
Georgina shrugged. “In my experience, feelings are not something you can control. Whether or not you ‘believe’ inthem is irrelevant. They are irrational, often inconvenient, and can strike at the most inopportune moment--or for the most inopportune person.”
Emery narrowed her eyes. Now she was very sure her friend was talking about Henry.
“All I’m saying,” Georgina said, shaking her head, “is that if the Duke were to have feelings for you, this is exactly how he would express it: through romantic gestures such as flowers and asking you to call him by his given name. Has he done anything else for you? Anything of a romantic nature?”
Emery hesitated. “Well… he did ask me to wear his mother’s comb in my hair. I said I thought his sisters ought to have it, but he insisted. He said that because I’m the duchess, and because I have brought so much joy to the family, that I should have it.”
Georgina gave her a look that said,Do you hear yourself?And Emery laughed.
“I don’t know what to make of it,” she admitted. “He is a very dutiful man, and I can’t discount that he is behaving so chivalrously toward me because he believes that is what a lady, and a duchess, deserves; not because he has any feelings for me beyond polite friendship.”
“And what about you?” Georgina asked. “Doyoufeel anything for him beyond polite friendship?”
“I--” Emery wasn’t sure what to say. Despite all the moments when her heart had fluttered in her husband’s presence, despite the way he’d held her every time they danced, despite the feel of his arms around her, she still couldn’t bring herself to admit that there was anything in her heart.
“Think about that while I use the privy,” Georgina said, winking at her. “Tell me what you’ve concluded when I get back.”
She excused herself, leaving Emery alone to contemplate her words. But she quickly found this to be exasperating, so instead she focused on thinking about the flowers. Whenever she thought about them, she still felt giddy with happiness. She was just remembering how it had felt when she’d first seen the flowers when a cruel voice cut through her thoughts.
“Did you see the Duchess of Dredford last night?”
It was a woman speaking, someone whose voice Emery didn’t recognize, and it was coming from the table behind her, which was hidden from her view by a large potted plant. Emery immediately froze. The woman was talking about her! And likely didn’t know that she was present and could hear her.
“Yes I did,” another woman cooed, whose voice was a little higher pitched and very girly. “What a shock she was!”
“Of all the ladies the Duke might have married, I cannot believe she is whom he chose! So uncouth! So unsophisticated!”
The second woman giggled. “Did you see the way she trod on his foot during the waltz?”
