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“A private affair will be fine, Your Grace,” her uncle said, shooting her a pleading look to be amiable.
She glanced at her aunt and sister who were as happy as her uncle.
“When do you want the wedding to take place?” her uncle asked.
Alexander’s gaze returned to Emma.
“I see no reason to wait.”
Emma gritted her teeth as her stomach tensed up into a terrible knot.
“Is there really no other choice but marriage?” she asked.
“Judging by the way you and the Duke were acting, you must go through with it,” her sister said, shooting Emma a congratulatory wink. “From what I saw, you two were intimately entwined.”
“That’s enough, Sophie,” her uncle admonished. “We don’t need to go into details. The important thing is that we’ll get the matter resolved and there’s no harm done.”
“Yes, that seems to be of most importance,” Alexander added. “I suppose I should get a special license so we can get the wedding underway. I see no reason to delay the event.”
Her uncle laughed. “We’ll do everything we can to accommodate you, Your Grace.”
Alexander glanced at Emma. “Splendid.”
Emma blinked and then studied her family. Didn’t they see how opposed she was to this marriage?
“There’s no need to stay out here when we can discuss the details for the wedding inside,” the Duke told her uncle. Her uncle nodded and hurried to lead the group back inside.
As Alexander led her in silence from the garden, back to the melee inside the house, Emma’s head was thoroughly aching. And how was she going to extricate herself from their engagement?
“Are you alright?” Alexander looked down at her in concern, his face calm despite what had just happened.
“No,” Emma gave him an annoyed look. “How can you be so cool and collected after all that?”
“Well actually,” the Duke whispered in her ear as he led her into the ballroo. “I’m really rather pleased. I came here with the intention of making you my fiancée, and now you are.”
If the ballroom hadn’t been so crowded, and if the guests hadn’t been staring at the sight of Emma on the Duke of Daventry’s arm, she would have boxed him. As it was she smiled grimly as Alexander led her back to her aunt.
“I may be your fiancée, Your Grace
,” Emma said through gritted teeth. “But I am not yet your wife, and I have no intention of marrying you.”
“Yes, you will. I always get what I want Miss Buckland and that just happens to be you,” the Duke gave her a wicked smile.
Chapter Five
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Emma gripped the brush in her hands. The previous night had been a disaster. In a week, she was going to be the Duke’s wife, and God help her but she couldn’t think of a worse fate. Bessie, her maid, entered her small bedroom and offered her a smile.
“Would you like me to brush your hair this morning?” Emma shook her head and absentmindedly ran the brush through it. What did it matter how her hair looked? She’d already found a husband.
She never should have left the ballroom without her aunt. This was her fault.
“I think I should brush your hair,” Bessie told her in a soft voice.
Emma blinked in surprise, not realizing she’d stopped brushing her hair. With a sigh, she handed the brush to Bessie and stared off into the distance, not seeing anything in particular.
Bessie brushed her hair in gentle strokes, something that had a calming effect on her swirling emotions. Emma didn’t know how Bessie knew what she needed to feel better, but somehow, she did.
