The Shy Duchess Part 4

"I did not think they would start so young," he muttered.

"Your Grace?" Emily said, bewildered. Had he hit his head on the embankment? What was he talking about?

"Seeking rescue," he said. "You did warn me."

She laughed. "Indeed. But I fear you will be the one in need of rescue if you don't get home and into some dry clothes as soon as possible."

"I am fine, Lady Emily. We should find your friends first."

Of course! She had completely forgotten about them, about everyone. Emily glanced up to find Jane hurrying towards them, her eyes bright with excitement. Mr Rayburn followed, looking considerably put out by the whole scene.

"No need, for here they are already," she said.

"Oh, your Grace! That was utterly amazing," Jane cried. "So very heroic."

"Not heroic at all, Miss Thornton," he answered as he rose to his feet and held out his hand to help Emily. "I merely acted out of instinct, as anyone would."

Yet no one else had acted at all, Emily thought. Only him. Would she now have to revise her opinion of him as merely a pleasure-seeking, shallow duke? That would be most inconvenient.

"I heard you were at the park today, Em, when the Duke of Manning performed a most daring rescue."

Emily looked up from her book as her brother bounded into the drawing room. "So I was, Rob, along with half of London."

Her mother turned eagerly from her embroidery. "The Duke of Manning? And you were there, Emily? Why did you not say something!"

Because Emily did not know what to say. She knew her mother would become terribly excited at the knowledge she had even seen the duke today. Her mother would be sure to blow the whole incident entirely out of proportion and make it all something it was not. Emily was just too tired for all that right now, and much too confused.

And she also just wanted to keep what she had seen to herself for a while, to try to decipher what it all meant. She couldn't do that with her family chattering on about it all, as they had a tendency to do. Yet it seemed keeping quiet was no longer an option.

"Emily!" her mother said. "Did you hear me? Why did you not tell me you saw the Duke of Manning at the park? Did he speak to you?"

Emily carefully closed her book. "I suppose it all just slipped my mind."

"Slipped your mind?" her mother cried.

"You are a strange girl indeed, Sister," Rob said. He leaned over her chair to examine her book, his light brown hair flopping over his brow. He didn't look quite like an important up-and-coming politician when he did that, she thought, but like the brother of her youth. "I'm sure anyone else would definitely remember seeing the duke rescue a child from a runaway carriage. And then walking away on his arm when it was all over."

"What!" Emily's mother screamed. She tossed her sewing on to the floor. "Emily, you will tell me everything this moment."

"It did not happen quite like that," Emily protested. "And how do you know of it, Rob?"

"Amy saw Jane Thornton's sister at the milliner. But it doesn't matter how I know. Everyone in town knows by now. Nothing so dashing has happened at the park in ages." Rob tugged at one of her curls. "They say you wept and mopped at his sweated brow."

"He was too wet from falling in the river to sweat," Emily muttered. "And I did not weep. Though I was naturally frightened for the poor child."

"I wouldn't be too sorry for her-she's Lord and Lady Hampton's brat. It seems they're proclaiming Manning the great hero of the age."

"Already?" said Emily. "And how do you know that?"

"Amy saw Lady Hampton's aunt on the way home from the milliner's. Amy is amazing at discovering information," Rob said admiringly.

"You mean she is a great gossip," said Emily.

"Whatever you call it, Sister, it's immensely useful and one of the many reasons I married her. It would do you good to talk to people yourself more often."

"Enough of this arguing, you two!" their mother cried. "Emily, tell me what happened immediately."

Emily quickly related the tale of the child's rescue-a short version of it, anyway-leaving out most of her own involvement and all her emotions. Even that abbreviated account had her mother sighing.

"What a heroic tale!" she said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "How proud our old friend, the late duke, would be. And to think you were there, Emily!"

"So was everyone else, Mama," Emily protested again.

"But no one else went to his a.s.sistance, only you, my dear. And now your name is linked with his."

"Well done, Em," Rob said.

"I did nothing at all! He scarcely even noticed me," Emily said, to no avail.

"Perhaps we should allow you to go to Vauxhall with Miss Thornton and her sister after all," her mother said. "I wasn't sure about the outing at first, but such a good deed deserves a reward. And there can be no harm if you are with respectable friends."

"Really? You are allowing me to go to Vauxhall?" Emily said, astonished. Her mother had hesitated when Emily first relayed Jane's invitation, but now she seemed quite happy to allow it.

"Of course, my dear. The duke might be there, after all. You must see what you can make of it."

Emily departed the drawing room soon after, leaving her mother and brother to their happy conversation of the doings in the park and what it might mean. They seemed to think it meant the duke had noticed Emily at last, or some such nonsense.

Once she was safe in the silence of her own chamber, she locked the door and went to stare out the window at the gathering evening. Her room looked down on their tiny back garden and the mews behind. All was quiet now, as everyone was at home preparing for their nights, their parties and dinners and theatre outings. The sky was the palest of pinks, shading slowly into grey.

What was he doing tonight? she wondered. Was he getting ready to go out and enjoy his hero-dom? She hoped he was staying home to rest by a warm fire, as he would surely catch a chill after his-what did he call it? His dunking?

She had a sudden vision of the duke, Nicholas, by his fire, cosy with books and supper on a tray. That was her favourite sort of evening. What if she was there, too? What if she could sit by him as they toasted cheese in the fire and laughed about the follies of gossip? He would reach for her hand and...

"No!" she said aloud, and laughed at her fancies. He did not seem a man to relish a quiet evening at home. Dukes were very busy and always sought after, even ones who weren't the hero of the day. His family seemed to love parties above all else, dancing and music and jokes.

And yet-yet she had glimpsed something different in him today, ever so briefly. She had known he was brave, of course, always riding h.e.l.l for leather and racing carriages at Welbourne Manor, swimming in the lake there, climbing the hills. Dancing all night. But today's bravery was of another sort. He had put himself in danger to save a child, a person unknown to him, without an instant's hesitation while everyone else fled or froze in horror. As she had.

Only after did he seem at all shaken, as if the true danger to that little girl had only just come to him. And that girl had been most reluctant to part with her rescuer-as all ladies seemed to be with him.

Emily bit at the edge of her thumbnail as she watched the sky slide into indigo twilight. Teaching at Mrs G.o.ddard's meant that not only did she teach the women writing and French, they taught her things as well. They were careful never to tell lurid tales in her hearing, but she did hear some things. She heard stories of how men, especially wealthy and t.i.tled men, were not to be trusted. They used people, particularly women, for selfish ends and discarded them without a care. That was why she worked at Mrs G.o.ddard's, to help women recover from such terrible experiences. She wanted to help however she could.

The Duke of Manning was about as wealthy and t.i.tled as a man could be, and he was the son of a famous libertine, a man who had abandoned his wife, the mother of his heir, and married his mistress as soon as that poor wife died. Yet today Emily had seen not a shred of selfishness or carelessness.

Was it only the rush of the moment that made him act thus? Perhaps tomorrow he would go back to the careless, scandalous ways of the Mannings. Or maybe-maybe that was simply how he really was, deep inside.

Emily was very confused, and she did not like that feeling at all. Maybe her mother was right, and the duke would be at Vauxhall for the masked ball. If she met him in disguise, not as Lady Emily Carroll, perhaps she could glimpse that true self, not just the face he showed society.

It seemed a harebrained scheme at best, but for now it was all she had.

Chapter Five.

"You've been very quiet all day, Nick. Is something amiss?"

"What did you say, Stephen?" Nicholas said. He tore his gaze from the night-dark streets flashing past the carriage window and glanced over at his brother. Stephen was running one of his many 'lucky charms' between his fingers, back and forth, and that was seldom a good sign. But maybe Nicholas should find some kind of charm as well. It seemed he needed one.

"I said you are being strangely quiet, which is not like you. Usually no one can get you to shut up."

Nicholas threw his black satin mask at his brother's head. Stephen batted it away, laughing, but in the process dropped his charm. Nicholas scooped it up and held it to the moonlight. It was a tiny gold horseshoe, as bright as Emily Carroll's hair. "I have a great deal to think about, you know."

"Ducal things, I suppose?"

"Indeed. And if you're going to twit me about my work, I'd just like to see you take it on. You're the heir, anyway. You be the duke, and I'll go off and live on a sunny island somewhere, with no estates to run and no siblings to corral."

Nicholas closed his fist tightly around the charm. He was being churlish, he knew, and he was sorry for it. It wasn't Stephen's fault he was in such a strange mood. He hadn't been able to shake it away all day. He kept seeing that child, so close to danger, kept reliving it over and over in his mind.

And he kept seeing that look in Emily Carroll's green eyes as she knelt beside him, so full of horror and shock-and confusion. She had seen him at his worst, d.a.m.n it all, seen him at his most vulnerable. He didn't like that, and he couldn't decipher why that would be.

Stephen sat back on his seat, his hands up in mock surrender. "Certainly not! I have not the least desire to be a duke. It's a blasted great nuisance, and apparently it makes a man surly as well. And I'm only the heir until you marry and have horrid little Mannings of your own."

Which would never happen, not after Valentina and their poor little son. Nicholas rubbed his hands hard over his face and through his hair, messing his valet's careful arrangement. "I'm sorry, Stephen. I don't know what's come over me today."

"I suppose the hero of the day is ent.i.tled to a foul mood now and then."

"I've told you before-I only did what anyone would do when a child is in danger."

"Tell that to the Hamptons. They've blanketed the whole drawing room at Manning House with bouquets in their profuse thanks. And I hear they've been proclaiming your name all over town."

"I wish they would stop, then." It seemed absurd for Lord and Lady Hampton to thank him so ardently for saving their child, when he could do nothing to save his own. He did not feel heroic in the least.

"I wouldn't be so quick to turn modest, Nick. All the ladies will be even more in love with you than before." Stephen gave him a grin. "Maybe one in particular?"

Nicholas answered that grin with a scowl, which did not put off his brother in the least. "Who on earth do you mean?"

"I was at the club this afternoon, and heard tell that Lady Emily Carroll seemed enormously concerned for you when you took that tumble into the Serpentine. They said she cradled your head in her lap and wept."

"Oh, d.a.m.n it all." Nicholas tightened his fist on the charm, the golden corners biting into his skin. That was all the blasted situation needed-rumours about him and Lady Emily. "It was not like that at all. We happened to be walking together when it happened, that is all."

"You were walking with Lady Emily Carroll?" Stephen said, sitting up straight in interest. "But she did not like you at all last summer at Welbourne! Despite all her parents' efforts at matchmaking."

"She did seem less than enthused about me," Nicholas answered. "Our family is probably not serious enough for her."

Stephen gave a snort. "Socrates would not be serious enough for her! Has she ever smiled?"

Yes, indeed she did smile-and it was like the sun came out when she did. But then it always vanished all too quickly. "I met with her at the park and did the polite thing for an acquaintance and walked with her for a time." Nicholas saw no need to mention he had actually followed her to Hyde Park, foolishly following something elusive in that smile. "I'm sorry to be the cause of any gossip about her."

"I had a.s.sumed those stories were made up out of whole cloth. I didn't realise you actually were with her at the park. Did her touch freeze when she took your arm, Nick?"

Her hand had been quite warm. Warm and delicate, trembling slightly as she took his arm. And she smelled like summer roses. "Don't be a fool, Stephen. She is not actually an ice princess, no matter what those bacon-brains at the club say."

"It seems she's called that with good reason, though. I've never seen a lady so quiet and still. They say-"

"Enough!" Nicholas shouted. "I do not want to hear any more about Lady Emily. Surely we know well enough what it's like to be the objects of idle gossip. We shouldn't subject an innocent lady to unfair slurs."

"I-yes, of course. You're very right, Nick," Stephen said, looking nonplussed and quite sorry. "I certainly don't want to be unfair to Lady Emily, especially if you like her."

"I don't like her. I'm just sick of the gossip. It never ends."

"And you've been working too hard, Brother. We'll have a merry time at Vauxhall tonight, it is just what you need. Some wine, some music, some pretty women- you'll be yourself again in no time. And I will help you more, I promise."

"Just make your racetrack scheme a great success. And perhaps you're right, I just need some fun," Nicholas said. But deep inside he was not so sure. His family thought a bit of fun would solve any trouble, but maybe that wasn't so true any longer. Another night out, among noise and crowds, seemed the last thing he wanted. There was never a moment to think, to understand.

Then again, maybe thinking was the last thing he needed.

He tossed the charm back to Stephen, who caught it neatly, and reached for his discarded mask. The bright lights of Vauxhall were drawing nearer as they crossed the bridge, the press of carriages thicker around them as everyone headed for the masquerade.

Nicholas tied the mask over his face, and drew the hood of his black cloak closer. He would drink some of Vauxhall's excellent arrack punch and find a pretty woman, as Stephen suggested. Maybe a plump, soft redhead, someone very different from a delicate, porcelain-doll blonde, and forget himself with her. It had been much too long since he did that.

And then tomorrow, he would no longer be haunted by a pair of solemn green eyes.

"Oh, Emily, isn't it terribly exciting?" Jane whispered as they stepped through the turnstile into Vauxhall, the dense line of revellers dispersing on to the walkways.

Emily twisted her head about, taking in her surroundings. It was exciting, strangely so. She hadn't expected very much from this outing-she had heard and read so much about the pleasure gardens she was quite sure she knew what it would be like. She'd thought it would be a mere curiosity, something to see once and be done with, since she could not get away from Jane's invitation once her mother gave her permission.

But reading and seeing were two different matters. The gardens were astonishing, like something in a dream. It was a different world from her day-to-day existence of duty and sense. Here she didn't have to be Emily. Here she could be anyone at all.

Maybe that was the real point of any masquerade. To escape for a time.

She held on to Jane's arm as they followed her sister down the entrance pathway, and tried not to stare openmouthed like some green country girl. Off to their right was the Grand Quadrangle, their destination, and she could glimpse it through the carefully s.p.a.ced trees. Thousands of gla.s.s lamps, their globes faceted to make the light sparkle, shimmered from the branches, casting an amber glow on the costumed crowds as they pa.s.sed beneath them.

"It's like something from the Arabian Nights," Emily murmured. "It can't be quite real."

"I can't believe we're here," said Jane, tugging the folds of her Greek-G.o.ddess costume into place. "However did you persuade your parents to let you come?"

"Oh, it was not difficult." After her name was linked with the duke's in the Great Park Incident, as she had begun to think of it, they would have allowed her anything. Her mother had even given Emily one of her old gowns, an elaborate creation of green satin and ruffled gold lace Lady Moreby had worn in her own first Season, to serve as a costume. With the gown, a raven-black wig of high piled curls, and a gold silk mask, she really did feel like someone else.

Unfortunately, she had also borrowed her mother's old high-heeled shoes, and she was sure she would topple from them at any moment.

"Well, however you accomplished it, I'm very glad you did," said Jane. "We're going to have such fun tonight! Oh, look at that man over there, the one dressed as a Crusader. Who do you suppose it is? He has such deliciously broad shoulders."

Emily laughed, but in her own mind she decided the Crusader's shoulders were not nearly as attractive as the duke's. He was so very strong, the way he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the child so swiftly, as if she weighed nothing at all. The way he caught her, Emily, when she fell from the stairs, and held her so easily. So close to him...