Page 44 of Pursuing a Duke
The coachman flipped up the stairs and closed the door. When everyone was settled, Andrew tapped the roof, and the well-sprung, comfortably cushioned carriage lurched forward.
Several minutes into the ride, uncomfortable silence took up residence inside the coach, and, just to say something, Andrew muttered, “Shakespeare’sRomeo and Juliet. I do love a well-done tragedy.”
“Yes, it is a tragedy,” Emmeline said in agreement. “But also a great love story for the masses. Two young people fall in love, their families enemies. Life for them together seems untenable, which turns out to be true, and they both die by their own hand. They love in life and death together, forever.”
“It is a beautiful, tragic love story,” Lilly said.
Langford huffed. “It is a tragedy, and I reminded my lovely wife to bring a spare handkerchief.”
“I brought an extra one as well,” Emmeline remarked.
*
Emmeline couldn’t believehe’d invited her toRomeo and Juliet. No one could sit throughRomeo and Julietwithout being passionately invested in the budding love between the main characters and emotionally battered by the end of the play. He didn’t know it was one of the last theatre productions she and Aiden had attended. Her emotions would be raw from the playand her memories, and she hoped she didn’t embarrass herself with a breakdown.
She hated how things had turned around for them. Her heart broke anew every day, wanting what they’d shared back. She was trying to forgive him. She even understood why he’d omitted the truth. But she was warring with herself every day... forgive him... don’t forgive him. It was causing stomach issues, headaches, and fatigue. Her mother was beside herself with worthy over her health. It was a miracle she was attending the play this evening. And wouldn’t it be easier if she just forgave him and they could go back to how they were at the house party? In truth, she had accepted his invitation tonight in the hope of starting the forgiving process.
“We have arrived,” Andrew said. Once the door opened and the stairs lowered, Blackstone exited and leaned forward, his hand out. “Shall we?”
“Thank you.” With the contact of their hands, warmth traveled up her arm and spread to her heart. There was never any question that they suited one another in the bedroom. And in other areas. She freely admitted she’d loved him—and still did. She hated herself because something deep inside her was holding her back, and no matter what she did, she could not stop it from sneaking up on her at the most inopportune times. She woke up each day with a plan to free her anger. She would go outside, inhale deeply, and then exhale until she had no breath left inside. Then, she would release all the anger, anguish, and resentment she had kept inside. Let it exit her body, join the wind, and carry it from her far, far away, never to return.
It never worked. She visited her garden and exhaled, but nothing was expelled but empty hot air. Her heart remained shattered from Andrew’s lies, and her mind ached.
“Are you still with me?”
The sound of Andrew’s concerned voice caused gooseflesh on her bare arms and eased her heart. It was a warm night, so she only brought a shawl to keep the chill away. “Yes, I’m here. I appreciate your concern.”
“I’ll always be concerned for your wellbeing.”
“Thank you.” She knew he spoke the truth now.
The Theatre Royal, Covent Garden had burned to the ground in 1808 and was rebuilt a year later. Emmeline was amazed at how quickly it had been managed. The theatre was beautiful. They entered from Bow Street into a large stone entrance hall, and someone rudely called out to Andrew just as they approached the grand staircase.
“Your Grace.” The Countess of Hartford curtsied, and Emmeline swore her knees creaked. “How lovely to see you back in London.” She tugged her daughter forward, who looked like she wished to be anywhere but there. “You recall my daughter, Lady Beatrice, who is having her first Season. I believe you danced with her in Bath.”
Ever the gentleman, Andrew smiled and bowed over Lady Beatrice’s gloved hand. “Yes. How could I forget such a lovely young lady? I hope you’re enjoying your Season and have many suitors vying for your attention.”
The countess’s smile faltered for a brief moment. Lady Beatrice’s once bored expression changed as she smiled, making her even more breathtaking. “You are too kind, Your Grace.” It was apparent, by her wistful expression, that Lady Beatrice’s affections were engaged to some suitor, and Emmeline hoped it would work out well for them. But with a mother like Lady Hartford, it was anyone’s guess what would happen to Lady Beatrice.
After the mother and daughter left, the four of them climbed the stone stairs to Blackstone’s private box, Andrew muttering, “Good Lord, what must I do for Lady Hartford to leave mealone? I’m not interested in her daughter, as lovely as she is.” When they arrived, he insisted on helping her sit.
As the lights in the theater were being extinguished, she placed her hand on Andrew’s arm, as he was seated next to her. “I don’t know how you can be so polite to that woman.”
He looked at her hand on his arm and shrugged. “Longtime practice, and my mother taught me well.”
She removed her hand from his arm after feeling the heat from his body radiating into hers. His sandalwood eau de cologne enveloped her in its warm, woodsy scent, making her glad they were sitting beside each other. She always loved how he smelled. If she’d possessed one of his worn shirts, she would sleep with it at night and inhale it whenever she missed him.
“Are the seats to your liking?” Andrew asked, appearing unsettled. Did she do that to him? If only things were not so confusing between them.
“They are perfect.” The curtain opened and Emmeline leaned forward in her seat and hung on every word and scene that unfolded before her. She could barely breathe when Juliet was on her balcony speaking to Romeo. Her favorite scene in the play. And as much as she wished the dying would not happen and Romeo and Juliet would live happily ever after, it wasn’t to be.
Her tears started when Tybalt stabbed Mercutio with a rapier and then Romeo killed Tybalt. They got worse when Romeo, believing Juliet to be dead, drank poison and died. Then Juliet awakened to find Romeo dead and stabbed herself with his sword to join him in the afterlife. Her tears intensified and she covered her mouth with her handkerchief as sobs escaped from deep inside her chest.
As the curtain closed, Andrew gently touched her thigh. “Is there something I can do to ease your distress?”
She gulped down her sobs. “No. I’m fine. “It doesn’t matter how often I readRomeo and Julietor see the play; I hope for a different ending and am heartbroken when there isn’t one.” She leaned around Andrew and saw Lilly in the same predicament as she, handkerchief out as she dried her tears.
As they exited the private box, she took Andrew’s offered arm, and he escorted her to his carriage. Langford and Lilly were dropped off first, and when they pulled up to her townhouse she realized she didn’t want to be alone. Her emotions were raw from the play and she didn’t want Andrew to leave. Silly as it was, she could use his closeness tonight, even if she was still working through other feelings. “Would you care for a nightcap?”
