Page 3 of Pursuing a Duke
The Earl of Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick were only nineteen, and Emmeline’s heart fell to her toes because she knew they were too young to be considering marriage. However, if single gentlemen attended a private ball, wasn’t it presumed they were actively seeking a bride? Somehow, she didn’t believe they were. Sighing deeply, she rolled onto her side, drew her knees up, and told herself not to fall for either of them. It would only cause her fragile heart to shatter.
Finally, her heart slowed, her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep, dreaming of two very handsome friends.
“Good morning, miss,” Amanda said the next morning as she entered the room and pushed open the curtains, letting in the warm sunshine. “Wait until you see all the hothouse flowers delivered bright and early this morning.”
Sitting up, Emmeline rubbed her eyes and squinted from the sunlight filtering inside the room. “Really?”
“Yes. Six if I counted right.”
Climbing off the bed, Emmeline sat at her dressing table. “Let’s hurry and do my hair and dress so I can see them.” She clasped her hands together. “I’m so excited. My very first ball last night and my first flowers which did not come from Papa this morning.” Her hands flew to her stomach, which hosted a family of butterflies. “Oh my, it probably means I’ll have callers today.” Her heart skipped. Would Lord Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick come to pay a morning call? Indeed, if one came, would the other? She was dizzy from the excitement of the possibility of seeing both of them. She said with a wistful sigh, “I’ll wear the yellow muslin day dress this morning and change into the pretty blue one for my callers.”
When she entered the large entry hall downstairs, her pulse jumped at seeing the bouquets in all different colors on the long hall table. She stopped at each bouquet, inhaled the aromas, admired the blossoms, and opened the card accompanying each. The Earl of Quincy had sent beautiful red roses, and Mr. Fitzpatrick had sent yellow ones. The other bouquets, beautiful roses intermingled with colorful wildflowers, had come from the Marquess of Littleton, Baron Fieldstone, Mr. Percy Thompson, and Mr. George Tyler. Emmeline had danced with each of them, but her excitement came from the roses’ senders. She couldn’t help if her heart yearned for Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick. But which one did she yearn for more? The Earl of Quincy had to be six feet tall, had light brown hair, deep green eyes, and a handsome face with chiseled features. Mr. Fitzpatrick, also tall but slightly shorter than Quincy, had chestnut brown hair and brown eyes with a hint of amber. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Both men were fit with broad shoulders and narrow waists. Though perhaps she was being silly, attracted so to the first two men she’d met and danced with.
The hours dragged on as Emmeline sat in the family drawing room with her mother embroidering a delicate lace handkerchieffor her dear friend Catherine’s birthday. The clock on the wall drew her eyes every few minutes, making the time go by at a snail’s pace.
“Our drawing room will be full to bursting if all the gentlemen who sent flowers call on you today,” Mother said as she worked on a needlepoint pillow cover.
“Will they all come?” Emmeline wasn’t interested in all of them, only two. Would she truly have to entertain them all?
“I do hope so.” Mother tied off her thread and snipped it with her small scissors. “Your father and I discussed the gentlemen who sent flowers, and we both agreed that the Marquess of Littleton is an excellent prospect. He is older than the others, nearly thirty, so he will be serious about taking a wife. He is rather handsome, wealthy, and comes from a well-respected family. The other potential suitors are younger; two are very young and merely filling their time, I believe. The Earl of Quincy will become a duke one day, but I can’t believe he is serious about taking a wife now. Goodness, he is only a year older than you. And the same goes for Mr. Fitzpatrick. They both still attend university.”
Sadness filled Emmeline’s heart at hearing her mother’s words—true words. Everything she said, Emmeline had thought herself. Perhaps friendship was all Lord Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick sought. Friendship, would that be so bad? It would be if she lost her heart to one of them.
As for the Marquess of Littleton, he was not exactly handsome but not all that unpleasant to look at if you ignored his close-set brown eyes, which made his nose appear more prominent. He was relatively short but still taller than her. He seemed affable enough and had good manners. He said all the proper things. He didn’t leer at her with his eyes as their host did. The Duke of Westport had said shocking things to her, and she couldn’t get away from him fast enough when the dance theyshared ended. He’d said things she didn’t understand, but she knew they were scandalous.
“Have you taken a liking to any of them?” Hearing her mother’s voice pulled her from her musings.
“Honestly, I mostly enjoyed my time with the Earl of Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick. They are good friends, and when I wasn’t on the dance floor, I spent time with them, Catherine, and their other two friends, Mr. James Caldwell and Mr. Edmund Weston—you remember, Cousin Henry’s heir.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” Once she said the words, she wanted to take them back. They were admitting how interested in them she was.
“I understand you like the earl and Mr. Fitzpatrick, as they are closer to your age than the other gentlemen. But I truly believe you will have nothing more than a passing acquaintance with them. Neither is in a position to marry now. Entitled gentlemen like them leave university and spend several years making their mark on Society. They become rakehells, take mistresses, gamble, and fuel the gossip rags. They are most often either forced into marriage because of a scandal, or they take a wife around the age of thirty. Gentlemen do not have strict rules governing them as young ladies do.”
“I know. How unfair.”
“You must go prepare for your callers.”
*
Sitting on adeep burgundy settee with her mother awaiting callers, Emmeline’s hands trembled, and her entire being vibrated from nerves, excitement, or a combination of both. Would the butler ever enter the room and introduce someone... anyone? The suspense was killing her.
When Ward finally appeared, he did so with six gentlemen in tow. She was so shocked that she truly missed him announcing their names, which was unfortunate. Last night had been such a whirlwind that she needed a refresher of which name went with which gentleman. Lord Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick managed to take the two chairs directly opposite the settee, leaving the other four gentlemen to sit farther away. All held their hats in their hands while the marquess, whom she did remember specifically from last night, also had a fashionable walking stick.
Mother offered tea and biscuits while Emmeline’s eyes fluttered between her two closest visitors. According to her mother, she should give her attention to the marquess since he was actively seeking a bride, but her heart wouldn’t let her.
“Did you enjoy your first ball last evening?” Mr. Fitzpatrick asked. Today, he was dressed in brown and tan riding clothes and brown boots, almost the same shade as his hair. His brown eyes were bright, and his smile caused her heart to flutter.
“I did. I was worried I would be affixed to the wall with all the wallflowers, but to my astonishment, I wasn’t.”
His brows drew together. “I cannot imagine that ever happening.”
Her cheeks warmed. “You are too kind.”
“That is our Fitzpatrick,” Lord Quincy interjected. “Always being kind to the ladies.”
The friends shared a look that rattled her teacup in her hand. She didn’t know them well, but she recognized the signs of jealousy well enough to know they were each interested in her and warning the other to stay away. But she refused to come between the two friends. So, how did she prevent that from happening? She knew she couldn’t choose which she liked better just yet; she was hardly acquainted with them. Perhaps she should look to the marquess after all, except that would be futile since he didn’t appeal to her in the least.
