Page 60 of Pursuing a Duke
“Come here.” His comforting arms wrapped around her and held her tight. “From this night on, I will spend them with you. Last night was the longest of my life.”
“Mine too,” he admitted. “But what about keeping up appearances of being betrothed to Lady Beatrice?”
“The hell with that. I truly feel sorry for her, but I won’t risk your life for her reputation. You are stuck with me.”
She snuggled deeper into his arms. “That sounds wonderful. I love you, Andrew.”
“And I you.” He cradled her face and kissed her. The desperate kiss revealed not only their fears and the turbulent times they experienced together but also the deep, connected love they shared.
“Forgive me,” the baroness said as she entered the room.
Breaking the kiss, they sat back on the settee, holding hands. “Good morning, Mama.”
“What is this news I heard this morning about a man trying to sneak into our home with a knife?” she said as she sat in a chair opposite them, her face pale and her eyes fearful. “Dear God, Emmeline, this has got to stop. Do something, Blackstone.”
“Mama, it isn’t Andrew’s fault. Please don’t be angry with him.”
“But it is his fault.” She swung out her hand. “If he hadn’t gotten mixed up with Lady Beatrice.”
“Forgive me, Baroness, but she was forced on me. And her mother admitted to leaking the information to the scandalsheet. I only agreed to a betrothal, a fake one at that, so the earl could have time to find her a suitable husband. However, after yesterday and last night, I don’t care what people think of poor Lady Beatrice. Her mother ruined her, not me. I can’t take responsibility for Lady Hartford’s actions when they put Emmeline’s life at risk.”
“Begging your pardon, Blackstone, for my plain speech. But you must understand this is my only daughter whose life is in danger. Perhaps we should leave the city and rent a house in the country until this is over.”
“I would say yes, but I don’t think that will solve anything,” Andrew said. “We need to get to the bottom of it. Otherwise, both Emmeline and I will see potential villains in everyone we encounter, never feeling safe and relaxed, looking over our shoulders every second of every day. Which is a horrible way to live.”
“I agree with Andrew, Mama. I will not run away and sulk in the country.”
“I sent a message to Lord Hartford this morning saying the betrothal is off. I will not play the game anymore. If he is wise, he will send word to the press that Lady Beatrice has broken our betrothal. I don’t care what excuse they use, I just want it over. With any luck, another scandal will happen, and her scandal will be yesterday’s news. Her reputation may be salvaged yet. I offered my help, and threatening Emmeline is how I was repaid. I’m sorry for Lady Beatrice, but I truly believe she will persevere through the scandal and come out on the other side unscathed when her mother’s schemes are made public. Gentlemen will feel sorry for her, and she will receive numerous proposals.”
“I hope you are right. Meanwhile, promise me you will do everything possible to keep Emmeline safe.”
“I will guard her with my life.”
“Andrew . . .”
He kissed the top of Emmeline’s head. “It’s true. I will gladly die keeping you safe.”
Emmeline appreciated Andrew’s protection, but her heart would never survive if he died. Even now, it beat so fast that she expected it to tire out and cease beating at the mere thought.
“It is a warm, sunny day. We could ride in the park and solidify the end of my engagement with Lady Beatrice.”
“I’d like to take Marigold. I haven’t ridden her in so long. She must think I’ve forgotten about her.”
“Anything you want, my dear.”
Not long after, a groomsman brought Marigold and Andrew’s mount to the front entrance. Emmeline swung up into the side saddle with the aid of a mounting block. Andrew mounted and said, “Ready?”
“Yes.”
They made their way to Hyde Park with the sun shining down all around them. Emmeline wished she could remove her hat and feel the sun on her face. The warmth could penetrate inside her skin, verifying that she was alive. Perhaps later, in the privacy of her garden, she would tilt her face up to the sun and glory in its warmth.
“What are you thinking?” Andrew asked as he slowed his horse to match Marigold’s pace.
“How wonderful the sun would feel on my face.”
“It would. Don’t look now, but we have attracted an audience.”
She tried not to let those in the park, staring and whispering without shame, bother her. She straightened her back and nodded acknowledgment to anyone who met her eyes. Many of the ladies, walking or riding, did, their gazes full of judgment. Those in the carriages were just as forward in their glares.
