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Robinson was tall, dark, and exceptionally handsome, his piercing green eyes the color of grass and mystery. Not that she’d spoken a word to him, despite him being her brother’s childhood friend and a friend of the Duke. He was also a fair bit older than her—and a rake at that. Emily was well aware he’d never be interested in the likes of her.
Still, the trip had been a tantalizing taste of freedom that had elated Emily, though in this moment, her excitement seemed foolish. She ought to have stayed home. Found a suitor.
“Send them in,” she said.
“Both of them?” the butler asked, his brow furrowing in an unusual display of feeling.
She lifted her hand still holding her kerchief. “Lord Robinson is a longtime friend of Ashton’s. They attended Oxford together, both speaking fondly of the other.” Emily had had very little to do with financial affairs, her parents sheltering her from such dealings. “I’m certain he’ll be a great help during this meeting.”
The butler gave a stiff nod of assent before he disappeared again, returning with both men. As today had been the funeral, Emily felt it proper to accept callers offering condolences.
But tomorrow, she’d begin her period of isolation as she mourned. She gave a shiver to think on it.
Lord Robinson entered, Mr. Barrow just behind him. Despite her thick crepe veil, Emily still noticed how large Lord Robinson was. He had to be more than six feet and his shoulders were so broad.
The urge to hide behind him welled up inside her though she forced her feet to remain in her spot next to the mantle.
“Miss Cranston,” Lord Robinson said, giving a short bow as he took her hand in his. “Allow me to offer my sincere regret for your loss.”
She gave a nod, her throat clogging with tears. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper.
Mr. Barrow also bowed, offering similar words before his eyes strayed about the room. “No word from the new viscount?”
“No,” Emily said with a shake of her head.
“Is there some relative that can join you here?” Lord Robinson asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
Mr. Barrow cleared his throat. “I’ve written to your great aunt and await a response.”
Emily winced to think of the aging woman traveling. Her father’s sister and widow to the Marquess of Delvin, she was too old to make such a journey. “Thank you for your concern but I’m not sure she’ll come. I’ve written to the Duke and Duchess of Wingate. Perhaps when they arrive, they can escort me to her estate.”
“Excellent,” he said as Emily gestured for everyone to sit.
Lord Robinson sat next to her on the settee while Mr. Barrow took the seat across from them. A tea service was brought in, and she began to pour the cups automatically, as her mother had taught her to do.
“There are matters which we need to discuss,” Mr. Barrow added between sips of tea. “But I’d prefer to have your brother here before we began.”
“Then we shall be drinking a lot of tea, I think,” she answered with a shake of her head.
Lord Robinson gave a small laugh, his gaze darting to her and then back to Mr. Barrow. “Is Miss Cranston provided for financially while she awaits her brother’s return?”
“Yes,” Mr. Barrow answered with a nod. “If he doesn’t return—”
“Doesn’t return!” Emily cried, the thought of her brother not coming back more than she could bear. Her vision grew grey around the edges, and she felt herself sway until a steadying hand came to her back, another grasping her fingers into a large palm.
She knew it was Lord Robinson’s large hand that engulfed hers even as she had the urge to sink into the strength of his embrace.
“He’ll return,” came his quiet baritone. He sounded so confident, so self-assured, that she drew in a deep breath. She’d needed him to say that.
“Thank you,” she answered, trying to draw in another deep breath, draw up the strength this conversation—this day—required.
Lord Robinson’s hand was still on her back his large palm and long fingers nearly spreading from one side of her waist to the other. “Why don’t you let me speak with Mister Barrow? I’ll check in on you before I leave.”
Oh, that sounded wonderful. She wanted to rise to the occasion, but she felt as though she were sinking. With a quick nod, Lord Robinson helped her up and out the door. “I’ll just be in the study across the hall,” she murmured as he stayed by her side, strong hand holding her still, helping her into the room and then into a chair.
“Close your eyes and rest. I’ll be in soon.”
She gave a quick nod and did exactly as he’d requested. She’d wished for freedom, but she could see now how wrong she’d been. What she needed was someone who could care for because she didn’t have a clue how to care for herself.
