A knock on Emma’s chamber door echoed through the room like a church bell tolling a somber event. Her mother swept into the room ready for battle. “You may leave us, Arial.” Her mother waited until the door closed before she allowed her smile to transform into something luminous. “You and I shall chat before the ceremony.”
“What if I’m a failure as a wife?” Emma whispered as she plopped into the chair in front of the fire. The words she thought she’d never utter tasted bitter in her mouth. Only her mother would understand her fears. Even though her mother had prepared her for this day—this new life—the thought of leaving home terrified Emma.
Her mother smoothed her dress, and her gentle smile never faltered. “Failure? Sweetheart, let me explain something to you. Your husband-to-be put aside his work and rushed to accommodate your entrance as his wife. He even instructed his solicitors to start enquiries about a new residence in London—one befitting his countess. He’ll ensure you’re not a failure. You’re lucky.”
Her mother’s words pummeled Emma’s insides. “What if he never loves me? I just gave up my freedom for something I don’t understand. I’m in uncharted waters and have no idea how to navigate my way through.”
“My lovely girl,” her mother whispered. “Love comes in many forms, and sometimes it takes a little while before people recognize it in their heart.” Her mother’s voice grew tender. “Somerton’s protecting you in a way that changes his life too. Look at me.”
Resorting to an old habit from childhood, she resisted the urge, but finally gave in. Her mother’s will was a force to be reckoned with.
Her mother gracefully sat in the velvet chair opposite Emma’s seat.
“You know your Somerton better than I knew your father when we married. You’ve had the opportunity to spend time with him over the years. He’s been a constant presence at family gatherings.” Her mother pressed her hand over Emma’s and squeezed. “Your Somerton is a patient, kind, and thoughtful man. The way he plays with Claire and Alex’s children—”
“Mother, I’m not a child like the twins.” How could she make him happy, or be a wife he’d be proud of? She wasn’t like other women. She had her own dreams of how she wanted to live her life, and none of it entailed the responsibilities expected of an earl’s wife.
“It’s apparent to your father and me that Somerton has a tendré for you. And you for him.” Her mother rose and kissed her cheek. “Give this a chance. Go and take your place by your Somerton’s side.”
“I don’t know what to do. How to act.” Her breathing grew labored as the reality of her situation settled.
“There’s no need to act. Be yourself.” Her mother’s blue eyes were a constant in Emma’s life. Whenever she needed comfort, she always found it in her mother’s tender gaze. Her mother released a deep breath. “I need to tell you what happens in the marriage bed. You both have a responsibility to make each other happy. To cherish each other.”
Of all the things she expected her mother to say tonight, the topic of lovemaking was not on her list. “Claire explained it to me,” Emma said. She studied the fire and snuck a peek at her mother. “Don’t worry. I’m prepared.”
“That’s what I thought.” Her mother quirked an eyebrow and regarded her. “You’re full of life and that’s irresistible. He’s under your spell.”
“Thank you.” Her mother meant to soothe with her kind words, but it was far from the truth. “I don’t want to leave you or Father.” The confession proved what a coward she was. “I don’t want to leave my home.”
Her mother nodded in understanding. “I was scared when I married your father.” She tilted Emma’s chin until she held her gaze. “But he was so gentle and loving to me that within days I knew where my home and heart resided. You understand?”
Emma nodded as she fought against her tears.
“This is a big step for both of us it seems. I’ll miss you, too.” Her mother’s whisper betrayed her own tears as she gathered Emma in her arms and squeezed tight. “Your Nick is a wonderful man. I can only let you go because in my heart I know he’ll care for you, and in return, you’ll care for him.”
“I love you,” Emma whispered. “I’m lucky to have you as my mother.”
“I love you, too. I’m so lucky you’re my daughter.” Her mother stepped away to wipe Emma’s eyes with a handkerchief. “You’re beautiful with your tears.” Her mother swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders. A duchess through and through, she called out as she glided to the door, “Your father and I will see you downstairs.”
* * *
The pleasant drone of the vicar buzzed around the salon. The service barely registered as Nick looked at his wife-to-be. Emma had dug in her heels about changing into a more suitable gown. It made little difference to him her dress sported grass stains from her earlier walk. She could wear a horse blanket, and he’d still see every inch of her beauty inside and out.
With an exhale, he released the nervous energy trapped inside his chest. Vaguely, the vicar announced his name, Nicholas Armand Drake St. Mauer, the Earl of Somerton. More importantly, he was marrying Lady Emma Eliza Juliana Cavensham, a woman whose sigh had signaled her resignation. From now on, her fate and her life were irretrievably entwined with his.
Her gaze held his as they stood beside each other. He squeezed her hand to reassure her. She wanted romance and courtship, not some hurried service her parents prayed would forestall the gossips determined to mock her. From this point forward, she was his, and he would see her protected, cherished, and most importantly—happy.
The deep crevice between the vicar’s eyebrows warned he grew tired of the service. Nick had allowed his thoughts to wander and repeatedly had to ask the vicar to restate some parts of the vows. Emma seemed to suffer from the same affliction.
The vicar tapped his toe as if calling both of them to attend him. “My lord, the ring?”
“What ring?” He paid little heed to the question as all his focus was dedicated to his lovely bride.
“My lord, we can’t continue the ceremony without the ring.” The vicar rolled his eyes and heaved a breath. “Shall I come back later?”
Emma’s eyes grew round, and the most mischievous and effervescent smile broke across her face. It took every ounce of resolve not to pick her up and carry her out of the salon, an act declaring to the world she was his.
She made a half turn and faced him with her back to the witnesses, namely her entire family. Her stance ensured they were in their own private world. “We can’t marry.”
“Pardon?” His mind refused to give credence to her words.
The humor in her eyes glistened like finely cut diamonds. “The church requires you place a ring on my finger to symbolize our union, our partnership. Where’s the ring?”
“Exactly. Where’s the ring?” The vicar chimed in like an unruly parrot. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the man next demanded a plate of seeds.
“A ring,” Nick repeated. A war of emotions fought to gain control, but his brain retaliated and demanded an assault head-on. “I need to give you a ring?”
Her seductive scent wrapped around him, but other matters took precedence. How could he have forgotten? The service required he place a ring on her finger.
“Indeed, my lord.” The delight in her answer broke a dam within him.
A warning whispered he should proceed with caution. Without a ring, she could walk out the room, out of his life, and no one could stop her. The vicar would probably be the first to escort her so he could finish the rest of his evening in the company of someone who would actually listen to him.
Nick bent his head to hers, but didn’t allow her to look away. This was an honest escape if she desired. He didn’t even want to contemplate the ensuing loneliness if he let her go. His father’s words once again had come home to roost and steal the sliver of happiness he’d found for his future.
For an eternity, her gaze locked with his in a battle of wills. “This is quite a conundrum.” As he waited for her verdict, he felt heavy and stiff as if a sudden voracious fever had invaded his body.
Emma glanced at the double doors, then back to him—the most beguiling smile lit her from within.
Her brother, McCalpin, cleared his throat.
Nick glanced over Emma’s head. The duke had his head bent to the duchess.
“Emma?” The duke’s baritone voice rang through the room.
She didn’t waste a glance at her family.
“I’ve always subscribed to the thought that when you see an opportunity, run with it.” The corner of Emma’s mouth twitched and drew his attention to the beauty spot adjacent to her naturally red lips. “The way I see it, I have one choice. Wouldn’t you agree, my lord?”
She was playing with him like a cat batting its prey before the kill. “My lady, I agree you have a choice. However, the way I see it you have more than one.”
She nodded her head and tried to appear sincere as she contemplated his answer. “I hate to disagree, but you’re wrong.”
Behind him, her family grew restless with agitated murmurs.
“I only have one.” She held his gaze.
The simple declaration set off alarm bells.
“What are they doing?” the duke demanded.
“Sebastian, wait.” Steel threaded through the duchess’s whisper. “Allow them to work this out.”
“What are they working out?” Pembrooke asked.
“Lord Somerton and Lady Emma?” the vicar asked, not hiding his growing impatience.
“I do apologize, sir.” Emma’s gaze never strayed from Nick’s as she addressed the vicar. “We won’t be much longer, but you, above all, understand the importance of this moment.”
“Give him my ring, Alex.” Claire’s alto voice cascaded toward them.
William finally joined the fray. “She’s leaving. Ten-to-one odds she walks out the door.”
“Bloody hell,” growled Pembrooke. “He didn’t bring a ring?”
The vicar humphed at Alex’s profanity.
Emma lowered her voice. “I will marry you.”
Nick strained to hear the soft whisper.
“I could no more leave your side than I could fly across the moon. I gave you my promise.”
Inside his chest, every gnarled organ relaxed.
“I’m yours forever.” She took his left hand in hers and squeezed. “Give me your signet ring.”
Relief pounded through him as he slipped off his seal ring, the one with the lion guarded by a shield, the Earl of Somerton crest. He took her left hand in his and placed it on her finger. The gold was still warm from his body heat. “Have I told you today that you’re brilliant?”
“No, but that should be part of your vows. Now, pay attention.” Emma returned to her place beside him and faced the vicar.
“You’re beautiful, too,” he whispered.
Nick didn’t waste a glance at anyone. His focus was entirely on his lovely wife. It made little difference the vicar had yet to finish the ceremony. They were married. The simple act of giving her his ring bound them together.
She’d pull him from the mire once again with her clever solution. He’d suffer through all the loss and humiliation at his father’s hands again and again if this was his reward, a life with Emma.
“I beg you, may we proceed?” the vicar asked. “I would prefer to arrive home before the morning.”
* * *
The sun had already set when Emma and Nick started for Somer House, her husband’s town house and now her new home. Soon, the coach slowed to a stop. Nick sprang from the carriage in one smooth movement.
She placed her hand in his. He rewarded her with a reassuring squeeze of his fingers as he guided her to the sidewalk. Her gaze darted to the double entrance doors that led into his bachelor residence—former bachelor residence. The all-male domain would be demolished as soon as she and Arial stepped inside.
“Welcome home, Lady Somerton.” He brought her gloved hand to his lips, and she almost missed the wink from his left eye.
The small gesture caused her heartbeat to stutter. She bit her lip to stifle a grin but lost the battle.
Nick bent low and whispered in her ear. “What a welcome sight—my wife bestowing one of her dazzling smiles on me.”
She tried to ease some of the tension between them. “We really didn’t have a chance to talk after the wedding. We were both quiet on the way here.”
“We’ll have plenty of time later on.” Never slowing his pace, he led her up the steps into the town house. Two men stood at attention as if guarding the royal palace.
“Lady Somerton, let me introduce Hamm, our butler. He served as my father’s underbutler until he joined my household. Mr. Martin acts as my housekeeper.”
Emma nodded her acquaintance to her husband’s staff. “Lady Somerton” and “our butler” still buzzed in her head.
Both servants bowed in front of her but neither spoke. Their faces reminded her of an audience watching a magic act. Neither seemed to believe what appeared in front of them.
She’d trained for this moment all her life with the best possible teacher, her mother. She shoved aside her nervousness. “Hamm, thank you for the warm welcome. I’ll need your assistance as I become acquainted with Lord Somerton’s schedule.” She turned to the housekeeper. “Mr. Martin, perhaps tomorrow we could discuss the management of the earl’s household, and you could show me the house?”
Mr. Martin nodded. “My lady, anytime you wish to talk I’m available. It’s a small staff, and we all help each other.”
“Thank you.” Before she could ask another question, Nick interrupted.
“Will you have a bath prepared for the countess?” Nick brought Emma’s hand to rest on his arm and placed his over hers. “Shall we go up?”
Without a look back, they proceeded up the stairs.
She stopped Nick on the landing. “Shouldn’t I meet the rest of the staff?” The situation was confusing enough without the closeness of his body addling her senses. The clean fragrance of soap layered his familiar scent of bay rum and his unique male smell. She could breathe it in all day.
“It will have to wait until tomorrow.” His next words left no doubt he was finished with the conversation. “I’ll show you to your rooms.”
* * *
The parchment tucked inside Nick’s pocket crinkled when he raised his hand to knock on Emma’s door. Would she be pleased with his gift? Within minutes, he’d know the verdict: if her eyes brightened to a brilliant emerald green, then she was happy. He’d worked quickly this morning to get everything arranged for her new endeavor.
Nick had given their staff the evening free. The temperamental cook had demanded the entire day off. Before he went to visit his sister, Mr. Martin, the unofficial housekeeper, had prepared a light dinner with a wonderful vintage champagne for Emma’s pleasure. Tonight, Nick would have her in his arms and in his bed. Perhaps then he could get back to his work. His life had to return to normal soon as work was increasing at an alarming rate.
After his brief knock, Emma’s maid opened the door, then curtsied. “My lord.”
“Good evening, Arial.” Nick waited for the invitation to enter Emma’s private chambers.
The whole day had turned completely strange. He was lord and master over every square inch of this residence, but within the last several hours, things had changed. Now he must knock on his wife’s door, the one next to his, the one that had always stood empty.
His wife’s door.
Emma called out, “Come in. I’m ready.” When she stood from the dressing table, he truly had entered another world. Dressed in a gorgeous seafoam-green gown trimmed in matching satin ribbon, she reminded him of a present wrapped in silk, for his pleasure to unwrap as soon as he had her alone.
“You may leave us. Enjoy your evening,” Nick said while never taking his eyes off Emma. Arial silently slipped out after his command.
Emma tilted her head. “Arial didn’t say anything about taking the night off.”
In two strides, he stood before her. She smelled of something pure and beautiful. “In celebration, I’ve given everyone the evening free. We’re by ourselves.”
Emma swallowed. Her luminous eyes widened in surprise. “Oh…” Innocent as she was, she had no idea how sensuous her voice sounded.
“You”—he tipped up her chin to look at him—“and me. Alone.”
He pressed his lips to hers, a sweet start to the evening and one designed to coax her to relax. She tasted like the freshest summer berries. He was desperate to deepen the kiss but wanted to feed her first, so he gently pulled back. Her eyes slowly opened. She looked bewitched and unable to move.
When Emma reached for her kidskin gloves, he grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips. “Nothing is between us this evening. I want to feel your fingers intertwined with mine.”
She lowered her eyes, and her hand fluttered in his.
This was not the woman who had tried to seduce him in Portsmouth. Was she frightened of him, frightened of what would happen tonight? He had the perfect solution to dispel her sudden shyness.
“I have something for you.” He pulled the paper from the inside pocket of his evening coat. “A wedding gift.”
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
Her finger broke the seal, and she bent her head. When she finished reading, she lifted her gaze, and the dazzling green of her eyes lit the entire room. “You’re giving me a bank?”
“Not a physical bank, but the means and a place of operation. I thought you could start with ten thousand pounds. I have a business acquaintance, Mr. Macalester, who owns a building on the corner of Grosvenor and Bond. He has a small shop for let that would be a perfect location based on your research. Mr. Sedgeworth has serviced my banking needs for years and said he’d be honored to help you get started. He’s planning to approach you about investing in it.”
The smile that slowly grew across her face proved he’d made the right choice of presents. Suddenly, she stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”
Her simple touch was like kindling to his flame. They had all evening to enjoy each other, but at this moment, he wanted to take her in his arms and never let go. “I’m pleased you like it.”
She walked to the fireplace, increasing the distance between them. It gave him a perfect vantage point to admire her form. He always thought her striking, but tonight she was radiant.
“I never in my wildest imaginations thought you’d give me this. I expected jewelry.”
A rock landed in his chest. In his haste, he hadn’t gotten her a wedding ring. His father possessed all of the Renton jewelry the previous duchesses in their family had worn. It would take the devil himself to make Nick ask for anything from his father. “Tomorrow, let me take you shopping for something.”
“Please, no. This is brilliant.” She came and stood in front of him. “The reason I mentioned jewelry is because Claire always receives some bauble from Pembrooke for special occasions.” Emma studied the piece of paper clasped in her hand. “The man has no imagination, but Claire loves him blindly. So, he must have some redeeming qualities.”
His answer was a quick nod since her devastating grin left him speechless. Images of a besotted Claire and an even more besotted Alex flashed before him. A jolt of pain pierced his newfound jubilation. It was a waste of time and beyond foolish to want that type of marriage with Emma. It would lead to nothing but disappointment and heartache. It was better to keep this easiness between them and not have grandiose expectations of something deeper.
She fidgeted with the ribbon trim tied around her waist. “I didn’t get you a present.”
“How could you? There was no time. I don’t need—” He soothed his hand over hers, the soft skin enticing him to explore each inch of her. “Actually there is something I want.”
She bent her head to hide the most-becoming cherry blush on her cheeks.
“Join me for dinner?”
When she raised her eyes to his, the sparkle was back. She looked like a woman who could rule the world without question. There was only one word to describe her—magnificent.
He led her downstairs and escorted her to an extremely small but cozy room off his study. He used it as a private reading nook. Mr. Martin had built a nice fire that cast a crimson glow around the room, making it pleasant and perfect for a romantic evening.
A table set for two sat before a wall of windows that overlooked a small, secluded courtyard. Various covered dishes and candles of different heights were scattered across the tabletop.
“Oh … this is wonderful.”
“I’m delighted you’re pleased.” When Nick had promised himself he’d give Emma romance, he was determined to be a man of his word. He pulled out a chair and helped her sit, then proceeded to pour two glasses of champagne.
“May the adventure of our lifetime together start tonight and never end.” His toast earned a look of awe, then a wrinkle of her nose and an affectionate grin. Indeed, marriage had the possibility of fitting into his schedule quite nicely.
“That’s lovely.” With a coquettish grin, she offered her own. “To my darling husband, may tonight be the first night of many we share as equals in our new adventure.”
Before he took the first sip, he nodded hesitantly. “Your toast reminds me of something I learned from a classics tutor. Didn’t some philosopher say that a woman becomes a man’s superior if she’s made his equal?”
“It was credited to Socrates in Wits Common-Wealth by Nicholas Ling. That’s where I came up with the idea for the toast.” Emma lifted her glass and took a sip.
He followed her lead. All the while wondering how he’d keep a step ahead of her if the need ever arose. “Shall we eat?”
He lifted the first cover off the large silver tray in front of them and peered at the congealed mass on the platter. It resembled boiled beef and potatoes covered in some type of sauce. Of all the nights to be at the mercy of his waspish chef, tonight was not the night.
Emma politely picked at her meal. Within minutes, her stomach let out a howl of disgruntlement, and her eyes widened as she placed her hand over her stomach. “I apologize.”
Nick stood and extended his hand out to capture hers. “Let’s go see what we can find in the kitchen. Bread and jam will be a feast.”
If he could kick himself, he would. What a complete flop of a dinner, the first of his married life. It was apparent he had no finesse, but tonight he had planned to woo her. She deserved to have a night of passion and sensual pleasure. It was the least he could do for the lousy dinner he gave her. His father would no doubt be delighted he’d made such a strategic error.