Sins (29 page)

Dougie swallowed hard. ‘I think you are very beautiful, Emerald.’

How much exactly had she had to drink, Dougie wondered, as he unlocked the passenger door of his car and Emerald almost collapsed onto the seat. He had never seen her drink more than a glass of wine over dinner, and somehow he suspected that Emerald, who so prided herself on being in control, would hate it if she could see herself now.

As he got into the driving seat and made sure the doors were locked, Emerald sat up in the passenger seat and informed him, ‘And desirable. Tod says I am very desirable. He wanted to kiss me, I could tell.’ She paused and then asked, ‘Would you like to kiss me, Dougie?’

The question shocked him, forcing him to suppress his surging desire that yes, he would like to kiss her.

Dougie wasn’t sure when he had first recognised that, mixed up in the irritation that Emerald made him feel, was something very different, somehow very unwelcome. But now that he had recognised that feeling for what it was, he knew instinctively that there was no going back.

Emerald had been leaning towards him and, as he fought to remind himself that he had a duty to behave like a ‘gentleman’ and not take advantage of her offer, she collapsed abruptly against him, her head on his shoulder. Dougie took a deep breath and then wished that he hadn’t as he inhaled her scent. His need for her ricocheted inside him like a mad steer on a death mission. Her hair was brushing against his skin and she was toying
with the buttons on his jacket, whilst humming the tune the band had been playing just before they had left.

Firmly sitting her upright again, and then turning his attention to manoeuvring the car away from the kerb, Dougie reminded her hardily, ‘You are a married woman, Emerald, with a husband and—’

‘No I’m not.’

Had she taken leave of her senses? Was she even more drunk than he had thought?

‘Emerald, this is me, Dougie,’ he pointed out patiently.

‘Know that. Dougie the lost heir, Duke Dougie…’

‘I don’t care what you’ve told that slimeball you were having dinner with, you are married to Alessandro.’

‘Tod not a slimeball. He is a gentleman. And am not married to Alessandro. His mother is having our marriage annulled.’

Dougie missed his gear change and stalled the car. He turned to stare at her in stunned shock and saw that a single tear was running down her face.

‘She can’t do that,’ he protested.

‘Yes she can, because she knows that my stupid bloody mother went and had an affair with some painter and that means that I’m illegitimate.’

Emerald started to sob uncontrollably whilst Dougie wrestled with disbelief. All he could manage was an uncertain, ‘I’m sure that isn’t true.’

‘Yes it is true,’ Emerald insisted. ‘I’ve asked her, my mother…It is true, and if anyone finds out it will kill me so you must promise never ever to tell anyone.’

‘I promise,’ Dougie assured her.

‘Well, you had better mean it.’

‘I do,’ Dougie insisted.

They had almost reached Eaton Square and as Dougie waited to turn into it he looked again at Emerald, who had gone very quiet, only to realise that she had passed out and was fast asleep. A gentle snore shook her body as he drove into the square.

Emerald, illegitimate. She would hate him even more than she already did when she sobered up and remembered what she had told him. And if he’d been Alessandro there was no way he would have allowed anyone to blackmail Emerald into agreeing to have their marriage annulled.

They were stopping outside Lenchester House, and Emerald was still out for the count. Dougie got out and went round to the passenger door, somehow managing to get her out. Holding her in his arms, he mounted the steps to the house.

When the butler opened the door, Dougie informed him firmly, ‘Her Highness has hurt her ankle, Chivers, and I’m afraid the pain has caused her to faint. I’ll take her straight up to her room.’

‘Do you wish me to summon a doctor, Your Grace?’

‘Not at the moment, Chivers, thank you. I think it is more the shock of the pain than any injury.’

Despite Emerald’s fragility, Dougie was puffing by the time he had reached her room.

Placing Emerald on the bed, Dougie then turned to leave, hesitating by the door only to go back and wrench the covers from under her body to drape them over her, whilst determinedly not looking at her lying prone.

No sense in letting her get cold, after all.

*  *  *

It was late morning when Emerald woke up with a pounding head and a feeling of acute nausea in her stomach. Slowly, like mere wisps of mist at first, barely there and easily ignored but steadily growing thicker and stronger, memories of the previous evening started to seep into her head.

Tod Newton, flirting so charmingly with her; her determination to prove to everyone that she was so sensual that she could make any man desire her…Tod had suggested they went on somewhere more intimate to dance away the rest of the night. She had agreed, she remembered, but then…

An image, a familiar face and an equally familiar voice slid into her thoughts.
Dougie?

Like a high tide surge suddenly everything came back to her. What she had said, what she had told him, what she had asked.

Oh God, no! No! Not that, and to Dougie the Drover, whom she so despised. Emerald ground her teeth in fury and then had to stop because of the pain knifing into her head.

She had to see him and she had to make sure that he must never, ever breathe a word to anyone about last night…

‘Is the duke here, Chivers?’

Emerald had made a brave attempt at appearing groomed, but not even the aspirin she had sent her maid to get from the housekeeper, and copious cups of coffee, had been able to lift the headache that had settled round her forehead like a tight band.

‘He said to tell you that he’d be in the library if you were to ask for him, Lady Emerald.’

It was only when Emerald had turned away from him that she realised that Chivers had returned to using her pre-marriage title. Her heart began to thump in time to the pain in her head. Dougie must have said something to him. It was impossible, surely, for the servants to know already otherwise. God, how the drover must be enjoying this. Why had she been such a fool and told him what she had?

She pushed open the double doors to the library. Times were changing and even in the grandest houses now the footmen who would once have sprung to attention to open the door for high-ranking members of the family and visitors were rarely seen. Unless, of course,
one was royal. Alessandro had told her once how much he enjoyed the relaxed way of life in London in comparison to the strict formality upon which his mother insisted for their own court.

Alessandro…Unwanted angry tears burned the backs of her eyes. Blinking them away, she stepped into the room.

Dougie was waiting for her, she could tell. He might be pretending to read the papers but Emerald wasn’t deceived. She could almost feel his tension. That was enough to give her back something of her spirit.

Ignoring her headache, she told him coldly, ‘No doubt Tod Newton will be making enquiries today as to how and why I was practically abducted last night, and when he does call—’

‘When he did call earlier this morning, he was reminded that you are a married woman, and a member of the family of which I am the head. And whose name I shall not allow to be slurred.’

If her head hadn’t been aching so much she would have laughed out loud at the very idea of the drover proclaiming himself head of the family. A family that, in effect, she no longer belonged to. Her true family name was not one of proud longevity adorned with strawberry leaves and a ducal crest.

‘You had no right—’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Emerald, let’s not carry on like this. Given what you told me last night, I’d have thought you’d have far more important things demanding your attention than some damned ladies’ man.’

‘Tod is not a ladies’ man.’

‘You’re right, what he is is something far less polite. Now that we’ve got that out of the way let’s talk about something rather more important, shall we?’ Without waiting for Emerald to respond Dougie continued, ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Melrose and your mother this morning about your marriage. Mr Melrose is to consult a barrister friend who he assures me will know the best way to ensure that Alessandro’s mother keeps her word with regard to the subject of your father.

‘It has been decided that the reason for the annulment of your marriage will be one of religion. Alessandro is a Catholic. You are not. You had initially felt you could convert, but on reflection you have decided that you cannot and therefore you and Alessandro have decided–with deep regret–that the marriage must be brought to an end.’

A feeling–could it actually be a grudging admission of unwanted relief to hear someone speaking in such an authoritative manner on her behalf?–briefly eased the pounding in her head.

‘Alessandro’s mother has been left in no doubt whatsoever that any attempt by her–or indeed anyone else–to put a different interpretation on events, will result in the full weight of the British legal system being brought to bear on her,’ Dougie went on. ‘There is, after all, no concrete proof confirming her allegations. My late second cousin, the previous duke, accepted you as his child, his will alone testifies to that. In the eyes of the law, therefore, you are his child.’

‘You mean that as with the Emperor’s lack of clothes,
whilst everyone will know that the late duke was not my father, they will pretend that he was?’

‘No one will know, unless you yourself choose to tell them.’

‘Why are you doing this? You don’t owe me anything.’

‘
Noblesse oblige
, perhaps–isn’t that what they say, what’s expected of a nobleman?’ Dougie shook his head in amusement. ‘I’m doing it for all of us, Emerald, for myself, for your mother, for the family name, but most of all for you.’

For her? He was lying, of course. Why should he do anything for her?

An odd feeling had begun to take hold of her. A mix of panic, and confusion, and an overwhelming need to run away.

She could remember feeling something similar once before, as a little girl. Inside her head the memory replayed. She had been in the nursery with Rose, and Rose had done something that had annoyed her, so she had deliberately pushed her over just as her mother walked in and witnessed the incident. Amber had gone to Rose, who was lying on the floor but not making a sound, picking her up and cuddling her, kissing her cheek as she smoothed Rose’s dark hair. Emerald could feel the fury and that other feeling she refused to name building up inside her.

Then her mother had turned to her and, still holding Rose, had held out her hand to her, smiling at her as she said gently, ‘Come and be friends again, Emmie.’

She had so badly wanted to go to her mother, so very badly, but something inside her, something hard and
hurting and angry, refused to let her, and so instead she had stamped her feet and shouted, ‘No. Not until you put her down. I hate her.’

Her mother’s smile had vanished, and Rose had started to cry. Whilst her mother comforted Rose, Emerald had gone to her great-grandmother for solace, knowing that she too hated Rose.

Now that same feeling of wanting to reach out for what was being held out to her, of wanting to drop her guard and run for the comfort being offered, was there but now too that obstinacy within her would not let her respond to it.

Tossing her head Emerald ignored what Dougie had said, demanding instead, ‘Did Tod Newton leave a number for me to telephone him back on?’

When Dougie bowed his head and said nothing, a feeling gripped her–not pain exactly, but something unfamiliar and soft, which somehow made her ache a little inside, as though…as though she had come within reach of touching something special, which had now slipped away.

All rubbish, of course.

‘Isn’t it enough that I’ve lost Alessandro, because his mother found out about your past, without this?’ Emerald berated her mother, as she stood white-faced opposite her in the newly decorated drawing room of the smart town house that was to have been her and Alessandro’s marital home.

‘Emerald, I am so sorry.’ Amber’s voice shook with emotion.

‘You’re sorry? It’s all very well for you to say that, you aren’t the one that’s pregnant, are you?’ Angrily Emerald paced the floor. The waist of her beautiful new Dior suit was already painfully tight and none of the other clothes she had ordered for the winter season was going to fit her now.

‘Jay will write and inform Alessandro and his mother for you.’

‘No! I don’t want either of them to know.’ Amber’s response was sharp and immediate. She hadn’t told her mother of the princess’s warning about what would happen should she have conceived, and she wasn’t going to tell her either. ‘In fact I don’t want
anyone to know. Not yet. Not until I’ve decided what to do.’

It was a pity that she had fainted like that whilst her mother had been visiting and Amber had immediately insisted on her seeing a doctor.

‘What do you mean, until you’ve decided what to do?’

Emerald could see from her mother’s expression what she feared. Good. She deserved to be punished.

‘What do you think I mean? Everyone knows that there are doctors who deal with this sort of thing.’

‘Oh, no, Emerald, please. Promise me you won’t even think of that.’

‘Why?’ she challenged her. ‘Because you thought of it with me?’

Amber couldn’t speak for her guilt.

‘You did, didn’t you?’ Emerald guessed. ‘You wanted to get rid of me? Perhaps you should have done.’

‘Emerald, no. You mustn’t say that. And no, I did not want…there was never any question of me not having you, never.’

There it was again, that weird feeling of panic and pain and longing for something almost within reach that she couldn’t allow herself to stretch out for.

Alessandro’s mother would, of course, want her to have her pregnancy terminated. In fact, Emerald was pretty sure she would try to insist upon it, which was enough to fill Emerald with a stubborn determination not to do so. If Alessandro’s mother did not want her to have the child, then she would have it just to spite her.