Oh goodness, the loudest lady in London.
“Sure, give me a few minutes.”
Sara nodded and bounded out of the room. Emma searched desperately for something to wrap around her head so she would still have her hearing tonight when she was at the ball with Sebastian.
Within the hour, Sara and Emma were knocking on Lady Fenton’s door. The man who answered looked down on them and asked for their cards. Sara, not having any of that at her mother’s home, pushed past him and yelled Lady Fenton’s name. Sara had only recently learned that she was the illegitimate daughter of Lady Fenton and the deceased Duke of Haines.
“Ah, my gels!” Lady Fenton yelled as she rounded the corner with arms raised.
At forty and five years she was still a beautiful woman, with shots of grey in her otherwise auburn hair. Emma hadn’t seen her since before the incident, but she remembered the twinkle in Lady Fenton’s crystal blue eyes and the pitch of her voice.
Fortunately, it seemed her voice wasn’t as loud as Emma remembered.
“And look at you!”
There goes my hearing.
“So beautiful!”
And sanity.
“And your bosom!”
Oh look, my dignity just flew out the window.
“Thank you, Lady Fenton. It’s been too long since we’ve talked.” Emma curtsied and followed the two women into the drawing room.
“So, what’s the latest on-dit?” Sara’s eyes shined with excitement, while Emma’s eyes scrutinized the situation. Nicholas did need to take his poor wife out more if she was this starved for gossip.
“Well!” Lady Fenton cleared her throat. “I have it on good authority there is to be an announcement of gigantic proportions tonight!”
Emma shifted in her seat and nervously looked to Sara, who seemed not the least bit disturbed by the news.
“Truly?” Sara said.
“Why yes, and I hear it’s going to be from the Duke of Tempest himself. Isn’t he staying with you, my dear?”
“I’m sure that is his grace’s business to share, Mother.” Sara hid her smile behind her teacup. Emma coughed.
“It’s just as well that he plans to settle down. Word around town is no woman has ever been able to catch the man. Oh, he’s had his mistresses all right. But he’s the unreachable. I would eat my bonnet if a lady could get him to settle down, or better yet, if a certain lady could make him fall in love.”
Emma accidently let out a long sigh. Both women’s eyes bore into her.
“Sorry, I, um...”
“She’s tired,” Sara excused.
“Anyway.” Lady Fenton waved her hand in the air. “It is no matter. He’ll probably marry some young girl who’s still green behind the ears, a girl without scandal.”
Emma felt her face grow hot, even though she knew Lady Fenton had no idea her reputation at the country estate. Her parents had done a good job of “cleaning up the mess,” or so they phrased it. She unclenched her hands and tried to pay attention but couldn’t help but wonder what Sebastian was doing at that moment.
Just then a butler announced the Duchess of Tempest. Of all the rotten luck. Eyes twinkling, she gracefully entered the room and embraced Lady Fenton before taking a seat. The woman was so regal it hurt Emma’s eyes to look at her. The duchess’s head to toe jewels reminded Emma that this woman was not only important, but she was extremely wealthy and powerful. Oh, yes, and somewhat insane, considering she had asked Emma to seduce her grandson.
“I do hope I’m not intruding,” the duchess said.
“Oh, Annabel, you could never intrude!” Lady Fenton smiled as she took another sip of tea. Emma prayed both ladies would soon tire of talk so she could go back to the house and hide. “We were actually just discussing your grandson and his impending marriage.”
“Ah….” The duchess looked at Emma. “So did you do what I asked then, my dear.”
All eyes darted to her.
She could have burst into flames, her face felt so hot. “I, um...”
“Oh, don’t be shy!” the duchess urged. “How did you do it? Did you corner him? Spike his tea?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Oh let me guess, all you needed to do was flutter those gorgeous eyes and he was finished.” She winked and patted Emma on the knee.
Sara and Lady Fenton’s eyes bulged.
Perfect.
Emma tried to think of a good lie, or anything to get her out of the awkward situation she now found herself in.
“Emma.” Lady Fenton’s grin could not get any wider. “Don’t tell me you are to be engaged to the duke?”
She couldn’t find her voice.
Sara spoke. “Well, it’s all hush-hush at the moment. You understand how these things are.”
Both ladies nodded emphatically.
“I’m just relieved he’s finally settling down. I worry about that boy. He’s so concerned with his reputation, with making his family proud. I’d be proud of him regardless of his reputation. I do love him, you know.”
Emma’s heart warmed.
“He tries to be happy. And I do believe he is, but I wish he wasn’t so stuffy. I wasn’t jesting when I said I’ve tried to knock him off his high horse. Life is about mistakes. It’s about learning from your past and moving on toward your future.”
Emma swallowed the sudden knot in her throat.
“And,” the duchess continued. “I am so happy you will be a part of his future, my dear. You have my full support.”
God would surely strike her down for lying. By the time they said their goodbyes to everyone, Emma was ready to marry Sebastian solely to save face with his grandmother, the Duchess of Tempest.
Chapter Eleven
Sebastian felt ill.
After retiring to his quarters the previous night, he had found it nearly impossible to pry the image of Emma’s face from his mind. Then the dreams of her lush body pressed up against his only worsened his mood. It hadn’t helped that Samuel had made Sebastian more curious about Emma’s past and the reasons for her being here in the first place. Appearances were not always what they seemed.
Sebastian had decided to go to Whites to meet with Nicholas and Lord Rawlings. It was not a meeting he wanted to be a part of, nevertheless, when his ducal carriage pulled up to the establishment, he put a tight grin on his face and walked into Hades.
“Ah, your grace.” Rawlings’ cocky grin leered over his cup of ale.
“Rawlings,” he ground out.
Nicholas rolled his eyes, which was rather hypocritical considering Nicholas had nearly killed Rawlings a few years ago after he had kissed Sara’s hand. Sebastian sorely needed Nicholas on his side.
“The house party,” Sebastian stated, getting straight to business. “My fiancée and I will be attending.”
Rawlings lifted a brow. “Didn’t know you had it in you, old man.”
Sebastian’s fist tightened.
Nicholas gave him a warning look.
“Who’s to be the lucky lady?” Rawlings took another long sip and waited, glancing between the two men.
Nicholas answered. “Miss Emma Gates.”
Rawlings choked on his ale. “Miss Gates?” The color in his face seemed to diminish. He didn’t say anything for a great while, then, adjusting his cravat, he managed a tight smile. “Well then, congratulations are in order.”
“Yes,” Sebastian said slowly as he motioned for more ale. Carefully, he watched as Rawlings' face seemed to grow grimmer.
“I say, are you feeling well?” Nicholas directed toward Rawlings.
“Fine.” He shrugged and guzzled the entire contents of his cup. “Do you need any special arrangements for your quarters when you arrive?”
“Separate rooms, if you please.”
Rawlings smirked. “Of course.”
Sebastian fought the urge to hit him. Nicholas looked at Sebastian’s clenched fist and shook his head slowly, almost as if he knew what getting into a fight would do to Sebastian. What he didn’t know was why he hated Rawlings so much. Naturally Rawlings’ rakish attitude rubbed a majority of the ton the wrong way. But a rake Sebastian could handle. Hadn’t he been accused of the same thing several times past? No, it wasn’t that. It was the simple fact Rawlings didn’t care whom he hurt when he made bad choices. He laughed and walked on as if the consequences were no matter to him. Word had it Rawlings was heavily in debt, which explained his already foxed state when they arrived. Overindulging was always the first sign of debt, at least in Sebastian’s eyes.
“So you wish to be in separate rooms like a good little duke,” Rawlings mocked.
Nicholas grabbed Sebastian just in time, though Sebastian noted the fire in Nicholas’s eyes as well.
“You two need to drink more. I was merely taunting you. You’ve always been too easy, Tempest. Don’t you remember the time at Eton when you got that blasted nickname? ‘The Angel Duke.’ I never thought you’d actually live up to all the hype.”
Sebastian swallowed, trying to forget that day, trying to stamp it out of his memory. The only three men who knew the truth of the incident were Rawlings, Nicholas, and himself. Sworn to secrecy. The nickname was just a ruse for what had actually happened.
“Don’t…” Sebastian said.
“What do you think people would say if they knew the reason you ended up saving that little girl was because you were out after hours? Drinking and gambling with yours truly?”
Nicholas cleared his throat. “They would most likely laugh it off as some sort of adolescent behavior and tell the story of how Sebastian saved the girl from drowning all over again; this time with much more enthusiasm, considering Sebastian’s spotless reputation.”
Rawlings looked away. “Spotless…that’s an interesting word to use.”
“His reputation is spotless; it always has been. Seb could get away with murder.” Nicholas laughed.
Sebastian appreciated his effort to bring merriment to the far too tense room. But even he knew it wouldn’t work, not when Rawlings was so deep in his cups.
“I wonder how important your reputation is to you, Tempest.”
“It’s everything,” Sebastian snapped. And it truly was. It was his duty to have a spotless reputation. To make his deceased parents proud through his ability to lead his family and marry well. “I think we’re done here.” He launched out his chair and leaned over the table, savoring the moment Rawlings realized he had pushed him too far. “Stay away from me and stay away from Miss Gates.”
Rawlings lifted his empty glass in the air and nodded. “She isn’t yours.”
“Nor yours,” he barked back.
Rawlings eyes turned black. “We shall see, won’t we? I don’t believe you are married yet.”
Sebastian made a lunge at Rawlings’ throat, but Nicholas’s hands were already in place, pulling him toward the door. “Let it go,” he urged.
****
Rawlings stumbled into the poorly lit establishment, desperate to find the one man who could help him out of this predicament. Table after table was filled with loud obnoxious drunks. Knowing he shouldn’t be quick to judge, he tried to push past them and nearly fell over a chair.