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Emma’s lips trembled as disgust and anger filled her. She collected her pelisse in the foyer of the hall, unable to enjoy the remainder of the poetry reading after what had occurred.
She should have followed her instincts and declined Joseph’s invitation. Although she was not guilty of any misbehaviour, she still carried a burden of guilt inside her. Had she not agreed to accompanying him, this would not have happened. Perhaps Joseph would have realised that she did not wish to be alone with him, and that his attentions had been unwelcome.
Emma inwardly scolded herself for being foolish and giving Joseph the benefit of the doubt. Never again would she allow her good nature and her constant need to see the best in people to blind her to the truth. She was aware of who and what Joseph was, yet she had not possessed the internal fortitude to put him in his place.
She wrapped herself in her thick pelisse, a chill rising from deep inside her. He had very publicly attempted to kiss her, and there would certainly have been wandering eyes who noticed their encounter. Emma desperately hoped that anyone who did in fact see it, also saw the resulting slap him across the face she’d delivered in anger.
This would certainly not go well, and if Charles were to hear of it, he would most certainly never speak to her again. Or worse, he may ask her to leave.
Emma did not mind walking away from the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to, as her father and mother would certainly not shun her if she were asked to leave. It was her children she fretted over most. She did not wish to part with them, even though she had been the one who erred.
“Your Grace,” she heard Joseph behind her, and although she had no desire to look upon his face, she turned towards him.
“I sincerely apologise. I do not know what came over me. Perhaps it was the words of the poet who inspired me, or the fact that you agreed to accompany me this evening—”
Emma raised her hand to tell him to stop and glared at him. “It was a momentous mistake, and I do not wish to hear the excuses for your actions. You ought to know better. I am married to your cousin.”
“A loveless marriage.”
“But a marriage, nonetheless. It does not give you the licence to do what you did,” Emma said, clutching her gloves in her hand.
“Your Grace,” Joseph said and placed his hand on her arm.
“Do not touch me ever again,” she said. “Now take me home, or I will ask someone else to do so. Would that not have the gossips wagging their tongues even more?”
“Indeed, Your Grace. We would not want that.”
Emma ensured that Joseph was kept at an arm’s length while they quietly walked towards the entrance of the building. The foyer was practically empty, as most of the guests had already proceeded inside for the second half of the reading. As Emma moved down the three steps, she noticed the door burst open and much to her surprise, Charles stood there.
His hair was windswept and his cheeks were red from the cold. Had he ridden his horse here? Impossible.
A smile formed on her lips and she rushed towards him. When she stopped before him, she noticed his darkened eyes, and he was in more dishevelled state than she’d initially realised. Even his breathing was laboured, as though he’d run a great distance.
“Charles,” she said with a smile and pecked his cheek with a kiss most suited for a public space.
Much to her surprise, he simply stared at her, his jaw clenched.
“Your Grace.”
Emma cringed as Joseph approached them, and Charles’s eyes darkened even more.
“Charles, I—”
Before Emma was able to utter another word, Charles gripped her upper arms and held her away from him. She was a petite woman, and Charles easily moved her to the side, staring angrily at Joseph.
“Charles,” Joseph said, his face paling as if ill. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Charles said. “Both of you.”
“Charles, this is merely a misunderstanding—”
“Please wait for me in Joseph’s carriage,” Charles said to Emma.
The firm tone in Charles’s voice was one she’d never heard, and Emma didn’t dare disobey him. She felt responsible for this untenable situation and filled with guilt as she nodded quietly.
“Take my horse back to Finlay Hall,” he spat at Joseph.
“Charles—”
“Just do as I say,” Charles said firmly and turned away.
Charles joined Emma as she made her way to the carriage and gripped her elbow tightly as they walked the remainder of the distance.
Once they were inside the carriage, an uncomfortable silence fell between them. They were seated opposite one another instead of in their usual positions beside each other, which caused Emma even more discomfort.
Charles does not meet her gaze, but rather stared out the window, his arms folded angrily across his chest.
“Charles, I can see you are livid, and you have every reason to be,” Emma said.
Charles scoffed and continued to stare out of the window.
“I understand how this may seem inappropriate to you, I truly can. I do, however, think that your response is slightly exaggerated.”
Charles once again did not respond, and Emma drew in a deep breath.
“Please look at me.”
Charles stared at her briefly before he turned away once more, not uttering a word.
Emma’s eyes filled with tears, but she remained stoic, not wanting Charles to see her in an emotional state.
After a short while, the carriage arrived at Finlay Hall and Emma wordlessly descended from the vehicle, followed by Charles. Joseph arrived at the estate at the same time, and Emma drew in a deep breath. She was not certain what her husband planned to do, but she hoped he would not send her away.
“Emma, your bedchamber awaits.”
Charles’s curt order made her wince, but she understood his anger. She would most certainly have reacted similarly if their roles were reversed. She nodded obediently and entered through the front entrance of the house.
“Joseph, to my study. Now,” Charles said behind her.
Emma hastily made her way into the manor house and ascended the main stairwell. She fought back tears as best she could, but as soon as she entered her bedchambers, tears streamed down her cheeks.
***
ANGRY FOOTSTEPS ECHOED in the hallway as Charles marched towards his study, his hands clenched into tight fists. He was ready to do bodily harm anyone who crossed his path. Sending Emma to her bedchambers was the only solution he had at that moment, as he wished to speak with Joseph first. He was much too angry to be in Emma’s presence. It was highly likely he would say something he would regret.
Seeing Emma and Joseph at the hall had invoked not only anger from within him, but also an array of emotions with which he was not familiar. He had never been betrayed by Emma in all the time they had been married, and it was unsettling.
Charles entered his study only to find Joseph sprawled on the sofa, drinking his whiskey. A bitter taste appeared in Charles’ mouth. Did Joseph have no shame in helping himself to things that did not belong to him?
“Cousin—”
Charles slammed the door loudly, which made Joseph jump.
“I am not certain why you are so angry, but I assure you that—”
Charles marched over to Joseph, grabbed his lapels, and pulled him upright. “What on earth gave you the right to ask my wife to accompany you to the hall, or anywhere for that matter? Have you no respect for me?”
“It was merely an innocent invitation, which she accepted.”
“She is my wife and a respectable member of this family and society.”
“I am aware.”
Charles released Joseph, which caused him to stumble backwards and he stared wide-eyed at Charles.
“I never considered you the jealous type, Charles,” Joseph said as he straightened his jacket.
“Jealous? Do not be absurd. I have no reason to be jealous.”
“You travelled all the way from London—in record time—which is a clear indication that you considered returning a top priority. Why did you return so hastily? Do you not have to attend Parliamentary meetings this week, as well as the next?”
“Now I see. You planned this. You were well aware that I would not be here to notice your plan to steal Emma away.”
Joseph began to laugh and shook his head. “You are jealous. I never thought I would live to see the day where Charles Melton showed such a deep emotion.”
Charles’ jaw clenched and his fists balled at his sides.
“Most men who marry out of duty seldom develop feelings of love for their wives, regardless of how beautiful they are,” Joseph went on. “I never expected it from you.”
“You are preposterous,” Charles spluttered. “You sought out my wife. This is your fault, Joseph.”
“I can bet my life that you were not even aware of her fondness for poetry,” Joseph said.
Charles did not appreciate Joseph’s condescending tone, nor his insinuation that Charles had no knowledge of Emma’s interests. He was aware of her affinity for poetry, as she had spent many evenings reading poems to him in front of the fireplace. What he did not expect, was that she would share that love of poetry with someone outside the family circle
Charles’ brow furrowed as he realised that he felt threatened by this, and he did not care for it one bit.
“Oh, Charles. Perhaps you ought to pay more attention to your wife.”
He narrowed his eyes at his arrogant cousin. “You have no right to say that to me. I pay attention to my wife, and I give her everything her heart desires.”
“Oh, do you now?”
Charles growled under his breath and took a step towards Joseph. Cowering in fear of possibly being struck, Joseph backed away and raised his hands in defence. “Charles, calm yourself.”
“Did you lay a finger on my wife?” he asked.
“Charles, I hardly think—”
“Answer me, by God!”
His angry demand echoed through the study and his ragged breathing did not help matters in the least.
“Nothing happened between us, Charles. Nothing.” Joseph hurried to say, “She rejected my advances.”
“Your advances?” Charles repeated and stormed towards him.
“Charles, wait—”
Charles balled his fist and landed a facer on Joseph, who immediately fell to the floor. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth as well as from his nose, and he covered his face with his palm.
Charles’s hand stung from the impact, as he was not usually the aggressive type. He hadn’t punched anyone in a very long time, and he was rather shocked at the power of his blow, although that very hand now trembled ever so slightly.
He cleared his throat and stared down at Joseph. “You will not come near this estate or anywhere near me or Emma ever again. Do I make myself clear?”
Joseph groaned and Charles impatiently crouched down and grabbed him by the throat. “Is that clear?”
“Indeed,” Joseph said.
Charles released his grasp from his cousin’s neck and rose to his feet. With utter disgust, he stared at Joseph until he rose shakily to his feet.
“Charles...”
“You are no longer welcome in this home, nor in my life. I wish to never see your miserable face again. Now, leave.”
The calm in his voice seemed to unsettle Joseph more than Charles’ anger had, and the young man stumbled out of the study.
Charles inhaled deeply several times, quieting the rage inside him. He was already exhausted from traveling from London, and the added stress of the revelations of Emma and Joseph’s behaviour was certainly taking a toll on him.
It was clearly time for him to turn in. A good night’s sleep would certainly help matters. He did not have the mental capacity nor the strength to settle things between him and Emma now. He ascended the stairwell, his hand still ablaze, and he blamed himself for being such a blind fool.