Page 61 of Along Came a Rogue

“Because you caught him kissing me in the garden,” Emily accused coldly. She remembered what Grey had said to her at Snowden. “Wasn’t it enough to punish me by sending me away to school? Why must you continue to punish him as well?”

A flash of shock sped across her mother’s face, and she shook her head. “Your father and I didn’t send you to school as punishment.” Sadness laced her voice. “We were trying to save you in the only way we knew how.”

“Save me?” The question came out as an incredulous gasp, and Emily could only gape, stunned. The years of loneliness and isolation, of being treated as an outsider by the other young ladies among whom she never belonged, missing her brother and her home so badly that she cried herself to sleep night after night—Good Lord, if that was salvation, then…“What on earth did you think you were saving me from?”

Her mother’s shoulders slumped, as if defeated. “From dashing young men in their scarlet uniforms,” she answered ruefully. She reached for the teapot to refill her cup, although her cup was still full, as if she needed to keep her hands busy and seized on the comfort of pouring tea. “My father was an army man, you know, a lieutenant in India, and I saw firsthand how hard army life can be, both for the men and for the women who marry them. Never enough money, being sent God knows where to live like natives, always the constant fear of attack and death…Later, when I married your father, I suffered through that same life. And I didn’t want that for my daughter.”

“But—but it was only one kiss!” Emily exclaimed incredulously.

“And I would have done anything necessary to keep it from becoming more, for your sake, with any man who wasn’t a gentleman. It wasn’t Nathaniel Grey we were worried about but any man who saw you as an opportunity for social advancement.” She shook her head and set the pot down, her hand lingering on it regretfully as if remembering her own harsh childhood in India and her marriage before Papa inherited. “I wanted more for you than the life I had—an army officer’s wife depending upon the kindness of relatives for a livable allowance.”

“It was a good life,” Emily argued, rising to her feet. “We had a wonderful home at Ivy Glen.”

“Thanks only to your father’s brother and nephew,” she interjected, bitterness lacing her voice. “Without their kindness in letting us live there, we would have been crammed into rented rooms with barely enough money to feed and clothe us. Nearly every penny we had was because of them. Even then I worried constantly about how to settle the accounts and felt ashamed every time I had to ask for our allowance, through all of it suffering the embarrassment of being beholden to them.”

Emily stared at her with astonishment. But that—that wasn’t possible! She remembered her childhood at Ivy Glen, how wonderful it had been…but she also remembered the visits by her uncle and cousin, the tension that descended upon the country house, how on edge her mother had seemed. Yet she’d had no idea of their circumstances or her mother’s worry. Her parents had always been so careful with appearances, always conscious of social rank and connections. She’d assumed it was because they were social climbers themselves, set on achieving higher positions than they were born to. Never had any other alternative occurred to her.

“I wanted a better life for you, Emily, and when your father and I stumbled upon you two that day in the garden…” A pleading look for understanding swept across her mother’s face. “Well, it was obvious to me that you might never get that life. So we asked your cousin for the tuition money to send you to school.” Her mother drew a deep breath and admitted, “You needed a better education than I was able to provide for you at Ivy Glen, one that would teach you how to become a gentleman’s wife. We also hoped that you would make friends among the other young ladies and acquire their tastes and standards.” She paused. “Especially in suitors.”

Andrew. The realization hit her like a slap. That was why they’d urged her to marry him, because they thought he would provide the best life possible for her. A gentleman with a decent allowance and a small country estate of his own, relatives in a well-respected family, even a distant connection to a title…They must have thought they’d been blessed by fate to have such a man offer for her. No wonder they didn’t believe Thomas’s doubts about him—Andrew had been everything they’d ever dreamed of for their daughter.

Emily knew then that she could never tell them about the full misery of her marriage, that the man they thought would be her salvation turned out to be exactly the kind of fortune hunter from whom they’d tried so desperately to protect her. Their concern and love was misguided, oh, terribly so! But it was love, nonetheless, in its own way.

“And you might now be carrying a marquess, which means all those dashing young men will once again be clamoring for your attention.” Her mother set her tea aside, as if she, too, had lost her appetite. She added softly, “You might once again be in danger of losing your heart.”

Not losing, Emily thought, pressing her hand against her chest. Lost. Her heart was already gone, although in truth she’d lost it five years ago, and only finding Grey again had brought it back to her. “Grey isn’t one of those men, Mama. He’s not a fortune hunter.”

“No, I do not believe that he is.” Her mother’s brow furrowed.

Confusion pulsed through her. “Then why do you—”

“Does he know that you are in love with him?” she asked again, with more tenderness and concern than Emily expected, so much that it took her breath away.

Her face flushed, and she averted her eyes, even as her mother’s gaze watched her closely, waiting for an answer. “No,” she admitted in a whisper. “I haven’t told him yet.”

Her mother’s voice softened. “And does he love you?”

Her chest tightened with a painful clench. She didn’t have the strength—yet possessed far too much pride—to admit that her mother had no worries there, that Grey didn’t care about her, at least not the way she wanted. So she deflected the question. “I would consider myself lucky to have his love. He’s a war hero and patriot, a man who carved out a decent life for himself against all odds.” She added pointedly, “He saved my life.”

Her mother shook her head sadly. “You know the reputation he has, Emily.”

“As a rake, you mean,” she snapped out irritably. Why must Mama persist in disparaging him like this?

“No, not that,” her mother corrected softly. “His reputation as a man who craves adventure and action, who loves the chase and the hunt.” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “I know Major Grey well, given his friendship with your brother,” she told her gently, “and you are not the first woman to fall for his dashing nature, nor the first who has wanted to wed him.”

Her chest tightened with a hot rush of jealousy. It was true, certainly—if she loved Grey so deeply, then surely other women had also lost their hearts to him just as she had. She couldn’t imagine anyone not falling in love with him, so completely did she love him. But coming from Mama, the observation was heartbreaking.

Her mother’s eyes glistened with sympathy. “And it is a mistake for you to want marriage with a man like him.”

“Grey would be a wonderful husband and father,” Emily protested, blinking back the stinging in her eyes. Why was Mama torturing her like this? “The best I could ever hope for.”

“I’m certain he would,” she conceded, surprising Emily so much with her compliment that she gaped at her mother. Yet her mother’s eyes filled with regret and sadness. “But my sweet daughter, what makes you think you would be the right wife for him?”

Emily blinked, stunned. Of all the things for Mama to say—she certainly hadn’t expected that! Her heart skipped, and the air left her lungs in one anguished breath. Because I love him. Because I know his secrets and he knows mine, yet we still care for each other. Because we’re perfect together…But nothing came from her lips, because with each skittering beat of her thumping heart, she feared her mother might be right.

“I know both of you, perhaps better than you know yourselves. Even if you somehow managed to change his tiger’s stripes and convinced him to marry, even if he became accepted by society…” Her mother paused, an expression of grim knowing crossing her face. “A man like him would never be happy leading a respectable life in English society, and you wouldn’t be happy with anything else.”

“That’s not true,” Emily whispered defensively, but even as she spoke, tears burned in her eyes.