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But Ash had been the only thing that had held him up that day and as he watched Emily today, he knew someone had to do the same for her.
Ash deserved his help.
And as he watched Emily, he knew without a doubt, she deserved it too.
CHAPTER ONE
There are times in life where change is so slow, it seems as though it isn’t happening at all. Miss Emily Cranston, daughter of Viscount and Viscountess Marsden, had spent years hoping to be out from beneath her mother’s watchful eye.
And for years, absolutely nothing had changed in this regard. Emily’s mother decided which parties she attended, to whom she spoke, what she ate, and when she slept. Emily had secretly begged for the iron hand of her mother to be lifted so that she might choose something, anything, for herself.
But now, at the age of twenty, without warning, not even the smallest hint, the greatest change of them all had occurred. Death.
Didn’t people often have a premonition in this regard? Some clue, a shiver or a dream or something that warned them irrevocable circumstances were about to occur?
She’d received not even the smallest hint…
And in one swift accident, a muddy road and an overturned carriage, she’d lost both her parents, and now, Emily found herself alone. She was finally able to make her own decisions, and she’d give it all back to have her parents with her. Alive. A tear slid down her cheek, covered by the veil she still wore on her head.
The funeral had been hours ago, but she’d not bothered to take her heavy veil off, nor had she removed the simple black gloves that still covered her hands. Anything lavish would have seemed…wrong.
Her brother had been gone for near a year on some tour of Europe and while word had been sent to him, Emily had no idea when he might return or how long she’d have to drift along these halls without a bit of company. He’d been due back months ago and not only had he not come home, they’d not received a single letter since he’d left France bound for Spain. Worry fluttered in her stomach.
She felt like a ghost in this moment, alone and not really living at all.
No one had prepared her for such an event. She’d been smothered in attention for years. What would she even do alone?
Her mother had been attempting to match Emily with some suitable lord for the last year and a half. Emily had tried her utmost to avoid the matches, not having found any of the men of particular interest.
They’d been much older, or dull, or not particularly handsome. Her mother had regularly thrown up her hands. “Lord Tinderwell owns more land than any duke in England. What’s the matter with you?”
“The matter?” she’d ask. Lord Tinderwell was twice her age and not a particularly good conversationalist. Was it wrong for a girl to wish for a bit of adventure? Excitement? Romance even?
She winced as she blotted more tears from her eyes. If she’d listened to her mother, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now.
She’d have her husband’s arm about her, facing her parents’ death, yes. But not the soul-crushing loneliness that filled her.
She lay down on the settee, tucking her hands under the side of her face. She’d written to her best friend, now the Duchess of Wingate. Surely Aubrey would be able to help her. Or at least keep her company while she waited for her mourning period to end and her brother to return.
And after that? Would her brother help her find a match? He’d have his own new duties to fulfill, being the heir.
Perhaps Tinderwell was still available. She sat up. His Grace could write to the man on her behalf, ask for a meeting…
Distantly, she knew these were the acts of a woman who was desperately afraid, but suddenly, she needed some anchor to hold her in place. She was adrift, alone, and adventure sounded like the silly girl’s notion who didn’t understand just how delightfully secure she’d been.
“Miss Cranston,” the butler spoke softly from the doorway. “I’m sorry to interrupt but you have visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“Your father’s solicitor.” The butler cleared his throat. “And a second man who claims to be a friend of your brother’s, Lord Robinson.”
She stood, blinking several times, her gut giving a strange twist.
The solicitor she’d expected, though to be fair, she thought he’d not come calling until her brother had arrived.
But Lord Robinson…
She’d met him at Aubrey and Wingate’s wedding six months prior, which felt like a lifetime ago. Her father had allowed her to attend without her mother, trusting Aubrey and the Duke to be her chaperones.
