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And now he was about to announce to polite society his intention to take a wife.
Emma made her way down the quiet hall at an unhurried pace. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, resting her head briefly on the banister. Why did her heart feel so laden with grief and regrets? It had taken years before she had been able to imagine a future without Elliot. She’d already made plans for her life, and she would see them through. If only before she left for America, she could dance with him, just once, or perhaps even kiss him, and perhaps just a bit more.
The thought arrested her.
What if…?
And suddenly she knew. Before she departed the shores of England, before she lost him forever, she would have one moment of sin, of stolen pleasure, and irresistible passion.
Instead of ascending the stairs, she made her way to the music room where her younger sister Maryann played the pianoforte. Emma entered, and her sister glanced up.
“Oh dear, you have that rebellious look in your eyes.”
“I need your help, and I only have a week to prepare.”
“Of course, whatever you need,” she said with all the loyalty of a sister who loved her dearly.
She would attend Lady Waverly’s house party, or better, the masquerade ball customarily held at its conclusion. “We will have to be very discreet.”
Maryann’s eyes widened, and one of her hand fluttered to her chest. “Oh, dear.”
Emma would avail herself of its advantages, namely pursuing a sensual encounter with the duke of Hartford. The very idea was positively indecent, shocking, and scandalous, but there was a chance to experience something that she’d always wanted.
Emma could only hope afterward she would not be left in ruined disgrace.
Chapter 2
Elliot George Winthrop, the ninth duke of Hartford had made time to take afternoon tea every Tuesday with his grandmother, the Duchess of Hartford, for almost eight years, and he could not recall if he had ever seen her display an expression of shock, or pleasure for that matter. It was remarkable that he couldn’t remember if a smile had ever appeared on her lips.
As it were, the teacup was arrested half way to her lips. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’ve decided it is time for me to find a duchess.”
His grandmother was now little more than a flesh covered skeleton, although her snow-white hair was impeccably styled under a Brussels lace cap, which Elliot knew must have cost a pretty penny. She was dressed in lavender silk trimmed with black ribbon bows, which denoted half mourning although her elder son had been dead eight years. She lowered the cup to the small and elegantly designed table before her. She gripped her walking cane, her bony fingers curling like claws over the head of the cane positioned at her front, and lion gold eyes, very much like his, stared at him assessing his reasons.
“And what has brought this on?”
“You’ve stalwartly impressed on me for years that it is my duty to the title since you restored me to my proper place,” he said repeating the very words she had used over and over. He managed to keep his tone from revealing a trace of irony or sarcasm.
Elliot had decided to marry and had never had an aversion to the state. He wanted to do it now because he’d been feeling restless, dissatisfied with business, the social whirl of the ton, and the usual debaucheries and activities in which he had indulged for the last several years. He had found himself of late, yearning for the simple life he had left behind.
She is going to America soon…
He felt impatient, mostly with himself, for being stuck on Miss Emma Fitzgerald.
His grandmother’s back straightened, and her jaw tightened. “I do not believe that for a minute. Have you gotten someone with child?”
A startled laugh escaped him. “No, madam. I am very careful in that regard, and I must say I find it decidedly inappropriate to have a discussion with you about my conquests.”
She shot him a reproving glare. “Then what has brought on this decision?”
“I’m simply interested in a finding a woman who I would grow to love and have children with.”
She regarded him with a most unpleasant expression. “Do not be foolish,” she snapped, her eyes glaring her disapproval. “Love has no place within a marriage alliance. That useless emotion has been the downfall of many fine families. I do hope I have taught you better than that.”
“Love is essential to me. My p
arents were devoted to each other. I admire and yearn for the kind of attachment they had.”
