The Emerald Duchess (14 page)

Emily stared at him, feeling his warm strength, and she nodded. “Yes, Charles, that is my real name. If you have heard of my family, and especially my mother, you will understand why I had to change it, although Margaret is my middle name, and my mother was a Nelson before her marriage.”

“Perhaps I should tell you what Lord Andrews revealed, and then you can fill in the mysterious parts, which are sure to be more interesting to me,” the duke said, holding both her hands in his.

Emily sat in silence, her head slightly bowed, as he sketched for her the story he had been told, omitting all references to what Hubert Andrews had in mind for her. When his voice died away, she looked up into his eyes.

“That is all true, Charles. My mother is dead. She died of consumption three years ago. It was only then that I discovered by what means she had supported us all the years I was growing up. I found some letters, you see, the day of her funeral
...”
She paused for a moment and the duke’s mouth tightened. How terrible that must have been for her, so young and alone and still in shock. He pressed her hands and she continued, “My mother was almost penniless at her death, and there was nothing left to me but a small cottage. My uncle, Lord Wyndham, had been one of my mother’s lovers and his wife knew of it, so there was no help for me there. Indeed, I did not want his help in any case, but I could see there was no way I could survive without some work to do; and since I did not feel I could ever be Emily Wyndham again, the object of gossip and scorn, I decided to change my name and take up my present occupation. I had waited on my mother for several years after she could no longer afford a dresser—it seemed the easiest thing to do.”

She paused again, for the duke was frowning now. She did not know he was trying to imagine what that must have been like for a gently raised girl, used to being waited on herself, and although he had no real conception of it, he was sure it must have been difficult for her, and tiring, discouraging, and demeaning as well. And yet she had retained her poise and elegance. He could only guess at the strength it must have taken to remain so lovely and untouched by her ordeal.

“How old were you when your mother died, Mar—Emily?”

“Twenty-two. I was not a child, you see.”

He smiled for the first time and raised one of her hands to
his lips to kiss. “Of course not! You were awake on every suit,
I
am sure.”

“Indeed I was not, Charles. I had had a very restricted childhood, with no friends or family, and when
I
think how naive and optimistic I was
...
well!” Her green eyes darkened as she remembered the Marquess of Benterfield and the colonel. “If I had known then what I know now, I do not think I could have done it. But now I am used to the work, and Lady Quentin is not a bad mistress—”

“Lady Quentin, kind though she may be, must find another maid,” he said, letting go of her hands.

Emily wondered why she felt so much disappointment, when she had expected him to ask her to be his mistress still. If he had any doubts before, now, of course, he must be thinking “like mother, like daughter,” she thought drearily, and then she was startled to see him go down on one knee before her.

“Miss Wyndham ... my bewitching Lorelei ... I have the honor to ask you to be the next Duchess of Wrotherham, and what is more important, especially to me, my wife. Believe me when I tell you that I will love you and cherish you always.”

“Your wife?” she whispered.

“Of course. And that as soon as we can contrive it. Perhaps we should marry here at the embassy in Brussels and return to England as man and wife, unless you have a great fancy for white satin and Westminster Abbey, my love. However, I beg you not to delay, for I do not think I—
’

“No, no,” she cried, pulling her hands from his and shrinking back on the bench as if she wanted to escape him.

The duke rose to his feet, a bewildered frown on his dark handsome face. “No? What do you mean,
no
? Do you deny you love me?” he asked, his voice demanding.

“Too much to marry you,” she said, glad that the pale light from the sliver of new moon made it impossible for him to see the tears in her eyes. “You cannot have thought, Charles. What, the mighty Duke of Wrotherham marry Althea Wyndham’s daughter? It is not to be considered. Why, there would be less consternation and gossip if you married Margaret Nelson, lady’s maid. I would not bring such shame to you as my only dowry.”

The duke had listened to her without interrupting, and now he took his seat again. His voice was quiet when he spoke, but there was a note of steel in it she had never heard there before.

“Emily Wyndham or Margaret Nelson ... it does not matter to me which one I wed. I do not care what the world says, nor shall you, for if I cannot have you as my wife, I see there will be no happiness in my future. I admit I thought of you only as my mistress before I learned your true identity, but now that I know your family and your background, there can be no impediment to our marriage, except for foolish pride. Foolish pride, my dear, that I do not intend to indulge in, nor let you do so either.”

“Listen to me, Charles! I
will
not marry you. Rather than that, I will even promise to be your mistress, and—”

“So you never intended to fill that role, eh? I thought as much; it was too much out of character. But why did you let me make love to you, then?”

Emily turned away, but the duke reached out and with strong fingers turned her chin so she was forced to stare into his eyes. He saw her tears and steeled his heart against them. “Well?” he asked. “I am waiting for your answer.”

“Because I loved you so,” she whispered. “I knew I could bear the rest of my life alone only if I could be close to you here. When our idyll ended, I was prepared to try and forget. I knew I could not bring myself to follow in my mother’s footsteps, but here at least we were free to love each other without thought of payment or shame.”

The duke bent toward her as if to kiss her, and she drew back. “No, Charles! You must believe I mean what I say.” Suddenly he rose to pace the path before her, and she watched him through swimming eyes.

“But you must marry me now, Miss Wyndham,” he said suddenly in a harsher, more formal voice. “I do not ruin ladies of your quality. Acquit me, please, of such boorish behavior. No, I was your first lover, and for someone of such exquisite sensibility as you have shown you possess, you must see that our marriage is as good as accomplished. Why, any true gentleman would do the same if he found out he had taken, even unwittingly, a lady of your standing in the world.”

“So, it was all right to seduce the maid, but Emily Wyndham is another matter?” she could not help asking.

“Of course. That is the way of the world, my dear,”
he agreed. “Resign yourself to it and to our union as well. You have told me you love me, know that I will always love you. You’ll see, it will all work out for the best in the end, after you overcome these foolish scruples of yours. I honor you for them, but I will not let them stand in our way.”

Emily bowed her head. “I will promise you only that I will think about it,” she said at last, and the duke had to lean forward to catch her soft words.

“Do me the kindness to do so quickly,” he said. “For I have promised myself I will not touch you again until we are married. You are not the only one with foolish scruples, my dear. You do understand that you must not cross me in this or try to escape me with some notion of saving me from my folly, do you not? I would never rest until I found you, and there is no place for you to hide that I would not search you out. You
will
be my duchess!”

Emily swallowed as he continued, “How I wish you had consented tonight. I meant to tell the Quentins and perhaps have a small celebration. Instead, I find that you insist on remaining Miss Nelson some little time longer.”

“Oh, please do not tell them, promise me, Charles,” she begged. “I could not bear it.”

“Very well, although it goes against the grain with me to see my future wife engaged in such menial work. I sent Thomas into Brussels today to make all ready, for we will take coach tomorrow afternoon for the capital. Our stay in the country is over. When we are settled in town again, I expect to hear that in this instance you will comply with my wishes.” He waited until she nodded a little, and then he added, “I intend to see about a special license as soon as I reach town. You see, my dear, I cannot wait for you. Dukes are very often imperious and demanding, but you know you have only to command me, save for this, and I will obey you in everything. And now, if I am not to forget myself completely and take you in my arms again to show you how much I love you, I had better take my leave now. So much for vows of celibacy. Sleep well, Lorelei.”

He gave her his most elegant bow—as if I were a queen, she thought—and then he went away. Emily remained in the little garden for some time longer. She had not known it was possible to feel great elation and great sorrow, both at the same time. He loves me, she thought, he loves me enough to marry me in spite of whom I am, and her heart leapt even as the little voice in her head replied, “And you love him enough to be sure it will never happen, don’t you, dearie?” When the moon slipped behind a cloud, she went back into the farmhouse, sad but determined on the course she had set for her future.

8

Emily had every intention of confiding in Lady Quentin, for she knew she would need her help, but she found no opportunity of doing so until they were once again in Brussels. First there was the captain’s comfort on the journey to see to, and then the packing and the many interruptions of the other servants while they were thus engaged. In the carriage, of course, Captain Quentin sat beside his wife, so she could not speak there.

In Brussels, Emily was glad to have the help of Corporal Deems, who had attached himself to the captain as his new batman, and she was also glad to find that the cook and the maid had returned to the Quentins’ rented house as if they had never deserted it at all.

It was late the following morning before she could ask Lady Quentin for a private interview, and by that time her nerves were on edge, for she expected the duke to knock on the door at any moment and demand his answer.

She was bidden to enter the little drawing room with a smile, but it was not much longer before her mistress was frowning in distaste. Emily had not thought she would be so shocked and horrified, even to the point of drawing her skirts away as if Emily were somehow unclean, and she had never felt so ashamed in her life as when she saw Lady Quentin’s cold look of disgust for her wanton behavior, even though she had not told her everything about her adventures by any means. It was not like that, her heart cried out silently. It was not dirty and sordid and common! But, of course, she could not say that, and so, only stumbling a little in her tale, she
concluded by saying, “You must see, m’lady,
I
cannot marry him. It would not be at all seemly.”

“Oh, no, it is not to be thought of,” Lady Quentin agreed, inadvertently stabbing Emily to the quick. “Oh, Nelly, er, I mean, Miss Wyndham, how could you be so ... so
lewd
!
And to think I never guessed that you and the duke
... Oh,
dear!”

“Please continue to call me Nelly, m’lady,” Emily said, swallowing hard and trying to keep the tears from falling down her flushed cheeks. “There is no Miss Wyndham anymore. But how can I convince the duke of that? You must see I have to leave here and escape him as soon as possible.”

“And I will help you, and so shall Tony. No matter how you have behaved, I cannot bring myself to abandon you when you have been so good to me, and so kind. But even if you did not wish to escape the duke, you do see that it would be impossible for me to keep you in my service. I am sorry that you must leave this way, but your immoral conduct gives me no other choice.”

“I understand, thank you, m’lady,” Emily murmured, lowering her eyes, her face now ashen. “But what shall I do? The duke has told me he will not take no for an answer.”

Lady Quentin knit her brows in thought. “First of all, you will need some money, but that is no problem, for the duke would not let me pay any expenses at Waterloo, so I have a large sum by me. Then you must have a passport and arrangements made for your passage home. We must think of another name for you as well, so I can write you a letter of reference. How else will you be able to get another position? And I am sure you have learned your lesson, Nelly, and you will not be so abandoned again, so I need not fear I am recommending a wanton. You are, after all, an excellent
lady’s maid. But more of that later. You and I will go out and get the passport, and I hope that horrid man at the War Office will be more accommodating now that our troops were victorious at Waterloo. I will send Corporal Deems to secure you a place on the next barge and arrange your passage to England as well. What a shame you have that distinctive blond hair. It is the first thing the duke will ask about, and even with a different name you are much too lovely to travel unremarked.”

“Perhaps I could wear a wig, m’lady?” Emily asked.

“The very thing! Do you fancy being a redhead or a
dashing brunette, Nelly? Oh, this would be just like a novel if it weren’t all so sordid and so sad,” Lady Quentin mourned. “First I had to lose Daffy, and now you as well. But while you fetch my bonnet, I will just tell Tony we are going out. Make haste! I shall never be able to dissemble if the duke arrives and finds me here alone.”

By evening it was all accomplished, and after a strained farewell, the handsome brunette who was now Mrs. Regina Wiggins was happy to be on her way to Antwerp by barge. Lady Quentin had chosen the name herself, and Emily had not dared protest that she would really rather not go through life as a Mrs. Wiggins, for Lady Quentin, for all her disgust, had been so helpful.

When the Duke of Wrotherham knocked on the Quentins’ front door the next morning to beg for a few moments of Miss Nelson’s time, he was ushered into the drawing room and left to pace up and down in his impatience.

Everything had taken much longer than he had thought it would. First, he had to move his household back to Brussels and see that the Quentins were settled before he could go about the business of the special license and all that that entailed at the embassy. The ambassador had been skeptical, but since the duke had secured the Duke of Wellington’s promise to attend his wedding, his misgivings were soon overcome. Wellington was your true English hero, the idol of the moment, and if he was to attend the service, then surely it must meet with everyone’s approval.

Since it had been more than Saint Allyn could bear, to see his love waiting on Lady Quentin and fetching and carrying for her, he had not returned to the Quentins’ house until this morning when all was in train and he had every intention of removing her from her menial work at once.

Now he heard a sound at the drawing-room door and turned with a smile only to see Tony Quentin there, his face
stern
and pale. The duke frowned, aware that his plans had miscarried.

“She is not here?” he asked. “Then she told you, after all?”

“Sit down, your Grace,” Tony said, motioning him to a chair. “You know I cannot sit in your presence, and I am not well this morning.”

The duke took the seat he indicated, and refused a glass of wine.

“Miss Nelson is not here, that is true. She has left our employ,” the captain said at last. “She told Alicia why she must go, and may I say, both my wife and I respect her for her honesty. I do not know why you wanted to force her into this unsuitable marriage; indeed, I am sure the girl must have been imagining your intent, but even if you did mean to marry her, she has certainly chosen the nobler, saner way.”

“Nobler! Saner!” the duke raged. “Allow me to know what is best in this instance, if you please, Tony.” His tone was icy as he added, “I never thought to see
you
serve me such a turn.”

The captain had paled a little. “It went against the grain, believe me, Charles, but I saw what had to be done. The girl was almost frantic in her desire to escape you. What could I do but help? Besides, it is just as well for you that I am so badly wounded, for I would feel honor-bound to call you out for such dastardly behavior as you have shown. Seducing a young maid in my employ, dallying with her with the intention of making her your mistress. At least by offering for her when you discovered her real name, you behaved as a gentleman.”

The duke’s face was white with rage, for he was seldom treated to a lecture on his behavior, and he found it hard to bear with any degree of equanimity. Then Tony continued, “But the girl does not want you, so there is no more to be said, and you may count yourself lucky to have had such a narrow escape.”

The duke had buried his head in his hands, but now he looked up, and Captain Quentin was surprised to see the anguish on his face.

“A narrow escape, was it? I
love
her, you fool! I shall always love her. And she loves me as well. Why else do you think someone so fine as Emily would give herself to me? I did not rape her, you know; she came to me willingly. No, what you have done is just to delay the inevitable, for I shall find Miss Wyndham, and when I do, I shall marry her out of hand. I wish you and Alicia had not meddled, Tony. Emily may have said she did not want to marry me, but she was lying, and I have no intention of letting her ruin both our lives simply because of what society may say.”

He got up and stood over the captain, and his voice was quieter as he added, “She will be my duchess, make no mistake about that. I have seen how happy you are in your marriage—mine will be just as happy. I tell you this, if I cannot marry Emily Wyndham, I shall never marry at all.” He paused for a moment and then he said, “But I suppose, even with these assurances, you will not tell me where she has gone, or when she left, or even give me a clue as to how I might find her?”

“I cannot, Charles. She has my promise. No, if what you say is true, I am sorry, but not being aware of your real feelings, what should I be apt to think except that you were merely amusing yourself?”

Tony watched the duke stride up and down the room in his agitation and wished the girl had not thought to wring that particular promise from them both. Then he said, trying to help now, “But consider this, your Grace. You might not be able to find her, but she can always find you. Don’t you think she might reconsider after she has been away from you a little while?”

A wry smile twisted the duke’s mouth. “You do not know the lady very well, Tony. She has shown me how stubborn she can be and how determined on her noble course. No, it is up to me, but I will find her, never fear. I promised her that, if she tried to run away. And now you must excuse me so I can begin my search. May I wish you a speedy recovery from your wounds? Be sure to give my best wishes to Alicia, and ask her to forgive me if she can. I shall not see either of you for a while, but if it would not displease you, someday I shall bring the duchess to visit you in England.”

The two men shook hands, a little stiffly on both sides, and parted company, and the duke rode home to the seclusion of his library. A short time later, he called his groom and gave him instructions to search every inn and rooming house for Miss Nelson. Thomas was amazed at his orders, but being well trained, he did not show his surprise as he went out to begin his inquiries at once.

The duke went to the canal himself to ask about the people who had taken passage on the barges within the last two days. When he questioned the shipping agent, the man was stunned, for although the gentleman gave him an excellent description of the lady’s age, height, and demeanor, he could not remember the color of her hair, nor, more importantly, her name. Unfortunately for the duke, only one of the three unaccompanied females who had traveled on the barges the past week could be discarded as unsuitable, for she had been carrying a baby and had another child toddling at her skirts. That left a Mrs. Regina Wiggins and a Miss Mary Berkley. The duke nodded, distributed largesse with an easy air for this intelligence, and returned home, pleased with the start he had made.

Thomas did not report until the following afternoon, too late for the duke to travel that day. There was no sign of Miss Nelson anywhere in Brussels, not even under another name or with her hair disguised. The duke sent him running to secure places for them on the morning barge to Antwerp, and then he summoned his valet.

“Pack me only such necessities as I shall need for a few days, Greene, and then you will close the house here, dismiss the foreign servants, and return home with the rest of the staff and my
belongings. Thomas goes with me.”

“Very good, your Grace,” Greene said, completely unperturbed as he accepted the large roll of bills the duke handed I him for expenses. “May I ask the nature of the clothes you I will
r
equire? Shall you be going directly to town or traveling about the countryside?”

The duke shook his head. “I have no idea where I will be.
You are to go to Wrotherham House in Park Lane and await me there. My quest may take a week—a month—I have no idea.”

Greene bowed as if he received orders of this nature every day of the week and retired. Via Thomas, the duke’s involvement with the lovely Miss Nelson had become well known throughout the servants’ quarters, and although Greene could sympathize with the duke’s infatuation, he could not help but hope that his master would be unsuccessful in his search. He considered the duke’s marriage to be long overdue, and dallying with a lady’s maid, no matter how beautiful, could only postpone that inevitable event.

The duke did not bother to inquire for Emily at Antwerp, for he was sure she had sailed for home as quickly as she could. Accordingly, he arrived at the coast and took ship without delay. He spent the Channel crossing on deck, his dark eyes intent and impatient as he watched the shores of
England slowly loom ever larger before him. Which lady should he pursue first, Miss Berkley or Mrs. Wiggins? He was inclined to favor the former, merely because she had much the more attractive name. To imagine his Lorelei as Mrs. Wiggins was offensive to him, but he knew that was not rational thinking. Emily was intelligent; might she not have chosen a common, homely name as a means to confuse him? He ended up tossing a coin, and when it landed at his feet, he was pleased nevertheless to see that it had come up “tails, Miss Berkley,” and considered it a good omen for his success.

The lady had made no secret of either her presence or her activities. At one of the smaller inns the duke learned that she had remained there only overnight before taking the stage to London. The innkeeper was most accommodating, agreeing that indeed the lady had been young and pretty, with large blue eyes and brown hair. Upon the duke’s sudden frown and barked query, he was quick to admit that of course the lady’s eyes had been green. What was he thinking of? A very pure and glowing green, your Grace, he assured his impatient questioner. The duke paid him well for his confidences and strode away. While Thomas was hiring them suitable mounts, he also inquired for the other woman, not quite trusting the innkeeper’s memory, or the ease with which he was tracking Miss Berkley, but he was disappointed. Mrs. Wiggins had disappeared without a trace. The duke shrugged. He had never favored Mrs. Wiggins anyway, and was sure that, as Miss Berkley, Emily would make for London. Probably she had it in mind to take another position as soon as she could. His lips tightened with anger and concern. To think she might be in need! Did she have enough money? Had the Quentins’ kindness extended that far? He was brusque with Thomas when the groom arrived back at The Ship Inn with two horses, and spoke very little as they rode to town.

It was late afternoon and the shadows were already lengt
h
ening in the streets when the duke arrived at Wrotherham House in Park Lane, and so he was forced to delay his search until the morrow. He told himself it was just as well, for then, refreshed by a night’s rest, he would be ready to find his lady and deal with her as he had promised.

He was taciturn with his butler and housekeeper, but since Thomas had been quick to put the other servants into the picture, none of these worthies were at all upset by the duke’s frowns and absentmindedness, and were not surprised that he did not go out to one of his clubs, but remained in the library after his excellent dinner with only a bottle of port and his thoughts to keep him company.

After he filled his glass for the last time, he raised it in a toast. “To you, Miss Wyndham-Nelson-Berkley! You have changed your name many times; I shall see to it that you change it once more, and for the last time. I drink to her Grace, Emily Margaret Saint Allyn, Duchess of Wrotherham.”

He went up to bed in a happier frame of mind than he had enjoyed for some days, but it was not long before his spirits sank again into depression, for only two days later he had the felicity to meet Miss Mary Berkley and discover that not only was she not Emily Wyndham, she did indeed have blue eyes, a common voice, and was not averse to flirting with him in the little house where she was at present residing and which was owned by a peer not unknown to the duke. He took his leave of her abruptly, much to her dismay, for she had been dreaming of exchanging her present protector, who had sent her home ahead of him from Belgium, for a nobler, more wealthy paramour.

The duke forgot her immediately and began to inquire at the various employment agencies. It was the only thing
he
could think of to do since he knew there was no sense in trying to retrace his steps to Dover and search for Mrs.
Wiggin
s after all this time. Where
was
she? Where had she
Emily had taken ship for England with more than a little trepidation, but the sea that day was not rough, and she was so glad to escape Belgium undetected that she did not succumb to the seasickness that had afflicted her on the outgoing journey. Like the duke, she had remained on deck wrapped in her cloak, but unlike him she gazed astern at the land where
she was leaving the man she would love forever.

As she stared at the wake of the ship, bubbling so cheerfully
b
elow her, her thoughts were sad and chaotic. Lady Quentin’s reaction and revulsion had upset her very much, forcing her
t
o realize that in the eyes of the world, there had been no beautiful idyll, no love so pure and precious that she had been
u
nable to deny it. Lady Quentin made
her feel soiled and c
heap, no better than her mother. She writhed a little remembering, but then she felt a spurt of anger. It was all so unjust! When she was a lady’s maid, she was only good enough to be the duke’s mistress and, as such, an object of scorn and derision to the good women of the world. But when she became the niece of Lord Gregory Wyndham and the daughter of the late Captain Thomas Wyndham of the Royal Navy, why, then, as a member of society, her behavior in taking the duke as her lover was even worse! Yet was she not still the same person? How unfair the strictures of society were! And here was the duke, determined now to marry her because his lovemaking had led to her downfall. She recalled how formal he had been when he asked for her hand, his
stern
control and measured words. Perhaps he felt trapped and betrayed, and although he had made the offer he did
not
really want to marry her? Well, then, she had done the right thing in running away from him and he would not bother to follow her, now his honor had been appeased.