His Not So

Sensible Miss

By

Jane Charles

His Not So Sensible Miss

By:  Jane Charles

Copyright © 2011 by Jane Charles

Cover Design by Jerrica Knight-Catania

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, locations and events are either a product of the author’s imagination, fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any event, locale or person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedicated to

My niece, Megan, for her support and cheering me on

Chapter 1

County Sussex, England

March, 1813

A drop of water fell on Emily Frasier’s nose.  No! Not now.  The sky had been overcast for a week, leaving her world grey and gloomy. Unable to stand being cooped up in the house one more day; she had taken a chance and gone for a ride.  Who would have believed that as soon as she was far away from her uncle’s home the sky would decide to open up?  Stuck between an open field and the woods, Emily searched for signs of a shelter.

Ahead was a well-used path. Please, let this lead to some place dry and protected. Soothing the agitated horse, she rode up the hill.   Ahead of her was the back of an old, dilapidated barn and she sighed with relief. The place had certainly seen better days but that it was the only shelter to be found and the rain was becoming heavier, who was she to criticize? Emily rode around to the front and guided her mare into the structure and slid from the horse’s back. The barn must have been deserted long ago. Several areas of the roof offered no protection whatsoever and she needed to be careful where she stood because she was liable to get just as wet inside as she would out.

Emily removed her drooping, waterlogged hat and placed in on a small table and began drying the mare with some old straw piled in the corner. When she was finished, she used the brush that had been left behind to groom her horse.

“I’m sorry, Athena, I can’t lift the saddle. You’ll have to stay this way until after the storm and I can get you home.”  She walked toward the opening in the barn to check on the sky and was brought up short.  Another horse and rider was headed right for her. The rider’s head was down against the wind and rain and Emily ducked out of sight, hoping the man hadn’t seen her.  He must be seeking shelter the same as she had done. Suddenly anxious, Emily pulled Athena to the back and into the shadows.

Though she had been in the area a few weeks, Emily still didn’t know her way around. She didn’t even know whose land she trespassed on. This man could be anyone and it wouldn’t be well done to be found alone, hiding.  With luck, Athena would remain quiet and both of them would go unnoticed.

Who was she trying to fool? Her luck hadn’t been the best today. She’d torn her new stockings while getting ready for services. At breakfast her cup had tipped, spilling tea down her gown and staining it terribly. They’d been late for church because Emily had been forced to change. And now, this wretched storm.

* * *

Chadwick Dillon Chambers glanced up when the first raindrops hit his face.

“Bullocks!”He needed to get away from his mother and had decided to take up residence in his cottage until the Season began and he returned to London.  Being stuck in the house with her carrying on about his non-marital state had pushed him over the edge. With the approach of each spring, it was the same lecture he had listened to for the past five years. At thirty years of age, he most definitely needed to find a bride this season, at least in her opinon.

He longed for the peaceful solitude of his cottage and intended to spend his time putting a new roof on the barn. He had waited three days for the sky to clear to no avail, but the roof wasn’t going to fix itself and time was precious. So he’d thrown caution to the wind and set out of the old out building.

As he approached the opening, his horse shied and Dillon urged him on. After sliding from its back, Dillon pulled him into the barn. The horse neighed and turned his head toward the back of the barn. Perhaps the brewing storm was making the animal more skittish than usual. He wasn’t particularly concerned at the moment. All he wanted to do was remove the saddle and bridle from the beast, brush him down and get into his cottage where he could change into dry clothing and sit before a fire. At least it would be quiet and solitary, with no one harping at him.  He looked forward to the promised seclusion.

After dropping the saddle on the ground, Dillon turned to pick up the brush he had last left on the table. But it was missing. In its place was a green hat, wet from the rain. A lady’s hat, to be exact, in complete ruin. Dillon straightened and looked around the barn. No wonder his horse had balked. They weren’t alone.

* * *

Emily tried to make herself as small as possible. Perhaps he would think her mare had simply been left. Heavens, what would she do if the man discovered her. He was a stranger. A very tall and broad shouldered stranger. The kind of stranger any decent young lady would fear to be alone with.

So far Emily had only seen him from behind and noted the dark curly hair cut to just the nape of his neck. Then he turned and the other side of him was just as intimidating. His chest was broad and Emily scooted back further into the shadows. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but they must have been as dark as his hair.  His face was unusually tanned. Did the stranger spend an inordinate amount of time out of doors?

“I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only one foolish enough to trust the sky.”  The stranger smiled toward the back of the barn where Emily stood, her wet hat dangling from his fingertips.

Drat. She forgot to take her hat, just further evidence that her day was not going well.  “I don’t believe I like being called a fool.”  She stepped forward.

The man bowed. “My apologies. I can understand how one would believe this to be a perfect day for riding.”  Was he mocking her?

Emily walked into the opening at the front of the barn.  “Very well, you do have a point. But, how was I to know that after days of this monotonous weather it would start to rain when I finally chanced an outing?”

He laughed. “I agree completely, which is how I was caught as well. I’d hoped to patch this roof today.”

As the words left his mouth, a leak developed directly over Emily and water streamed over her head.  Emily chuckled and stepped to the side. “I believe you have a good deal of work ahead of you.”

The man stood, hands on hips and looked up at the roof. “Perhaps I should just tear the entire structure down and start all over.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that is necessary, but perhaps a new roof is in order.”

“No bother.” He shrugged. “It’s why I’m here in the first place.”

Emily studied him. He seemed like a friendly, non-threatening man, but could she really trust him? Of course, she didn’t really have a choice at the moment and perhaps today’s diversion would prove promising after all, as long as she didn’t tell her aunt and uncle of this meeting.

* * *

She had no idea who he was, nor did he know her. Dillon couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. It was a refreshing experience. He could already guess she believed him to be a common tradesperson or laborer, which he could hardly blame her given his old worn pants, stained shirt and muddy boots.  And, he wasn’t about to enlighten her. “If not, there is work in the cottage needing my attention.”

“I didn’t notice a cottage.”  She started for the opening to the barn.

“It’s on the other side of the barn.”  He led her to the door opposite from where she stood.

He loved this place. A two story, stone cottage with ivy growing up the back and around the windows and doors. The small kitchen garden with plants still dormant waited for the warmth of spring outside the back door.  At least the plants would welcome this rain.

“Will the owner mind that I have waited the storm out in his barn?”

“No, he would not.”  She could appear in his barn anytime she liked.  Now that she had moved toward the door, he could see her more clearly and he very much liked what he saw. She wasn’t a very tall woman. In fact, the top of her head barely came to his chin. Her hair was a dark brown and her eyes were the color of brandy.  Her rounded face reminded him of a cherub with rosy bowed lips.  If the fullness of her face was any indication, then her body was probably shapely and softly rounded as well. Especially in the areas he most enjoyed such plumpness.  Dillon was very curious as to what her dark cloak hid.

“I don’t recall seeing you in the area before. I’m Dillon.”  He intentionally left off his last name. Few knew him as Dillon in these parts as his mother insisted on calling him by his christened name, Chadwick.

“Emily,” she returned with a smile.

How nice that they had only first names between them. It stripped away the walls erected by society where a title determined who you were and how important.  Standing in a leaking barn as Dillon with a lovely young woman named Emily was more than a little refreshing.

As more leaks opened above them, there were few places left to stand. The wind also picked up and Dillon suspected this storm would continue for a time before blowing itself out.  They couldn’t stay here because it wasn’t exactly offering any decent shelter. Nor did he trust the roof to remain if the wind became fierce. “I suggest, Miss Emily, that we retreat to the cottage where we will be better protected from the elements.”

She took a step back. “I’m not sure that would be wise. Why don’t you go inside and I will stay here with my mare.”

Dillon turned toward the horse. “Would you like some assistance in removing the saddle?”

Emily looked grateful.  “Yes, please.  I can’t manage it on my own.”

Dillon was happy to be of service and had the mare comfortable in no time. It was prime horseflesh, which made him wonder who Emily was and how she could afford such a fine animal. The saddle was made of some of the finest leather he had ever seen. She may believe him to be a common laborer but she was far from a common, country girl.

“I can’t leave you in the barn alone and I have no desire to stay in here with the roof leaking over my head.”

“I don’t know the owner and it wouldn’t be right to intrude.”

“The owner will not mind. On that you have my word.”

Emily chewed on a fingernail and Dillon could only guess at what she was thinking.  “However, he would mind if I let you stand out here in the rain and you became ill.”

She looked up at him, worry marred her brow and she bit her lower lip. “Is he at home?”

“No, but I have a key so I can work on the roof and I will be staying here.”

“Are you certain he won’t mind?”

“I promise.”  He placed his hand over his heart. “You have my word that I will behave honorably toward you.”

“For some reason I believe you, though I don’t even know you.”  She glanced toward the cottage.  “But, what if someone should learn?”

“Then they’d also know we were in the barn alone, which is just as condemning. If I am going to be accused of ruining a young lady, I prefer it be in a warm, cozy cottage instead of a wet, leaking barn.”  He grinned down at her. “I do have a reputation to consider.”

* * *

“Very well,” Emily capitulated.  He had a point and she was growing cold in her damp clothing.

Dillon grinned and grabbed her hand. Together they ran through the pouring rain until they reached the shelter of the small overhang. He quickly unlocked the door and ushered Emily inside the dry alcove where he removed her cloak and hung it on a peg to dry.  She followed him into a kitchen and he lit a few candles.  It was very neat and clean for being vacant.  Emily stood inside the door as Dillon lit the stove, put water on to boil and removed two cups and a teapot from the cupboard. He reached into another cupboard and retrieved a sugar bowl before producing two spoons.

“There’s no milk.”  He smiled apologetically.

“It isn’t as though you were planning on entertaining.” She couldn’t wait to have a nice hot cup of tea.  “Besides, I don’t take milk in my tea.”

His shoulders relaxed, as if waiting for her to complain. Perhaps where he worked he was used to people becoming upset if they didn’t get what they wanted.

“Let’s go sit by the fire while we wait for the water to boil.” Dillon picked up a candle and crossed through a dining room and into a foyer before coming to a lovely parlor. He lit a few lamps before he bent to light the kindling. Soon flames licked the logs.  Drawn by its warmth, Emily found herself standing next to Dillon, attempting to get warm and dry out her moist clothing.  Her cloak had been soaked but luckily her dress was only damp.  Her feet were another matter. No doubt her stockings and shoes were ruined. That made two pairs of stockings destroyed in one day and it wasn’t even dinnertime yet.

“Who owns this cottage?”

“Chambers.”

Emily nodded her head in understanding. “I didn’t think their land extended this far.”

“It doesn’t.”  Dillon turned to her. “Their son bought this cottage and land for himself as a place to hide away.”

What would a gentleman of the ton want with a cottage so far away from everything else?  From what she understood, hunting lodges were grander than this, and one couldn’t have too many guests visiting. If her estimation was correct, there was but one other room on this floor, which was probably a library or office. The second couldn’t hold more than four bedrooms.

“Are you sure he wouldn’t mind us being here?”

“I am certain he would not.”

Dillon seemed confident and Emily relaxed.  He probably knew the son well enough since he was Dillon’s employer.

“I’ll check on the tea.”  He left her alone and Emily turned to study the room.  This was the type of house she had always wanted.  This room especially, with its pale blue walls and dark blue and deep green upholstery.  It reminded her much of the home she shared with her father and his things would fit in here nicely.  Would Chambers one day be willing to sell, if she could come up with funds? Of late she had thought much about her future.  She wasn’t getting any younger and couldn’t remain with her guardian forever.

* * *

Dillon quietly whistled in the kitchen while he prepared the tea. He didn’t want her to know who he was just yet. If she learned he wasn’t a common laborer, her attitude may change. A number of young ladies would use this opportunity to be ruined and force marriage. Emily didn’t strike him as that type and he liked to believe he was a good judge of character, even from a brief meeting.  He wanted her to like him for who he was and not because he was the heir to a fortune.

He placed the pot and cups on a tray. Had he known he would have such a lovely guest, he would have arranged for cakes as well.  Unfortunately the pantry was not yet stocked with anything beyond the basic staples.  Besides, it would take too long to prepare anything delicious for her, if he even knew how. Maybe next time and Dillon certainly planned on there being another time. She was too lovely by half to just let disappear from his life. The question was, who was she?

I wonder what Marius would think if I wrote and asked for recipes? Dillon quickly dismissed the idea.  Such a request would have Marius on his door in a heartbeat wanting to know why he had a sudden interest in cooking.  Dillon wanted no intrusions in his life right now, even if it was his best friend.

He carried the tray through the dining room and paused at the doorway to the parlor.  Emily wore a light yellow riding habit, which fitted her form nicely. It was what he had imagined.  She was voluptuous with well-rounded hips.  Some people might call her plump but Dillon found her shape most desirous.  She would be soft everywhere and a man would be very comfortable with her in his arms.

He placed the tray on the table between two chairs in front of the fire.  The room was beginning to warm and dampness no longer lingered in the air.  “Please, have a seat.”

Emily settled into one of the chairs and glanced toward the teapot. “Would you like for me to pour?”

“Thank you.” He took the opposite seat.  Dillon couldn’t believe his good fortune in finding her in his barn.  He no longer cared that the storm raged outside, nor did he care that the roof would have to go yet another day.  He didn’t want to be anywhere but where he was at this very moment.

“I don’t recall seeing you around here before.”  Dillon took a sip of the tea.

“I’m visiting my aunt and uncle.  Aunt Beatrice was my mother’s sister and I promised to spend time with them until I journeyed onto London.”

Dillon digested this bit of information.  “Aunt Beatrice wouldn’t be Mrs. Klintonham, would she?

Emily brightened. “Why, yes.  Do you know her?”

“I do, and her husband, George.”

“Have you always lived in this parish?”

“My entire life.” He placed his cup back in the saucer and stretched his legs toward the fire.  “Where are you from?”

“Near Oxford.”  A soft smile came to her lips as if she were recalling a sweet memory.

“Are your parents traveling with you?”

Emily took a sip of her tea and when she lowered the cup, only sadness remained. Dillon immediately wanted to take back his question.

“No. My parents are deceased.”

“I am sorry.” He never knew what to say at times like this.  “Do you have any other family, besides Mr. and Mrs. Klintonham?” More specifically, do you have a husband or betrothed?  That is was the question he most wanted answered but didn’t know how to come out and ask.

“No, and I don’t get to visit them as much as I like.”  She sighed and placed her cup into the saucer.

“I don’t understand.” Dillon straightened. “If the Klintohams are your only family, why don’t you live with them?”

“My father named someone else as my guardian.”

“And he is taking you to London, for the Season?” Emily was older than most debutants but he was certain he would have remembered her had he seen her during earlier seasons.  Even if she hadn’t been presented, there were still other opportunities to meet young ladies.

“My guardian’s daughter will be presented.  She is eighteen and insists I remain with her.”  Emily dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Claresta would have me believe that she fears the entire season and all it brings and would have her one true friend by her side.”

“You don’t believe her?”  Dillon quirked a smiled.

“Claresta fears nothing and is more comfortable with society than I could ever hope to be. I’m afraid her thoughts are much like her father’s and they wish to see me matched and wed.”

Ah ha, confirmation she was not even betrothed.  Relief flowed throw him.  “Would that be so terrible?”  He’d need to find out who her guardian was so he could arrange to meet her in London.

“They don’t understand. I don’t belong in society, regardless of who my guardian is.”

Dillon sat forward, more intrigued each moment.  This was most peculiar.  “Your guardian must feel otherwise or he wouldn’t consider letting you enjoy the season as well.  Dillon lifted his cup to take another drink.

“His Grace feels his being my guardian is all the requirement I need.”

Dillon choked.  “His Grace?”

All the color drained from her face and Dillon wondered why the question upset her.

* * *

Emily hadn’t meant for that information to slip. If he knew she was in the duke’s household, Dillon would believe her to be more than she was. “For some odd reason, my father named the Duke of Ellings as my guardian. I had known His Grace since I was a child. Still, I was shocked when Ellings was named since there is certainly no blood relationship.  But, as His Grace stated, he admired my father and considered him a close friend, nor was he surprised in the least as my father had discussed it with him long ago.”

“Who was your father?”

“You wouldn’t have known him,” Emily insisted. “He died eight years ago.” She wasn’t about to reveal that her father had been a Fellow at Oxford.  Even though it made her just as common as Dillon, her father, by way of profession, was above that of a laborer and she didn’t want Dillon to be discouraged by a class difference that didn’t exist.  Of course he would have to be interested in her for it to matter and she dearly hoped this wasn’t the last time they would meet.  Somehow she must dispel any concerns he may have. She already let her connection to Ellings slip, which could form false impressions and she needed this man to understand that she, in truth, was of no consequence.

“He didn’t go into society?”  Dillon settled back in his chair and crossed his legs.

Emily laughed. “Never. There was no purpose. Papa stayed in his own humbled abode, rarely leaving except for his studies. He was a scholar, which was how he and Ellings became close.   Scholarly pursuits were the one thing they shared.”

Emily finished her tea and turned the subject away from herself. “Have you ever been to London during the Season?”

“On occasion, why?”

“I’m not sure what to expect once Claresta goes into society and I’m not sure it is at all pleasant.”

Dillon quirked his lips. “How could it not be pleasant? The balls, theater, musicals, just to name a few.”

“They can’t be pleasant if one does not belong.” Emily once again reminded him of her station.

“Emily,” Dillon sat forward. “I believe you could belong anywhere.”

Her face heated at his compliment and she looked down into her empty cup. “I have agreed only to accompany her when her mother is not available. That is all. This is not a season for me.”  It was a perfectly suitable position for one of her station.  “When Claresta does marry, I’ll move on and hopefully obtain a position as a governess in another household.”

* * *

Dillon wished she’d reveal more about herself, but she offered no clue to who her father was.  The man was a friend of Duke Ellings, so he had to be a member of society.  Why was Emily so reluctant to reveal anything about herself? His answer came a moment later when he rose to add more wood on the fire. The image in the mirror across the room reminded him of what he saw. He still wore his old, worn work shirt and pants.  They were far from the fine clothing in his closet in London and at his father’s estate.  She saw him as a man beneath her station and instead of flaunting her birth and treating him as a servant, she engaged him in conversation as if they were in a drawing room in London.

Perhaps her reluctance was no different than his own desire not to reveal himself. He was hounded by young ladies and their mothers for his fortune. Emily was probably hounded by gentlemen who hoped to be connected to the duke. This was probably her first opportunity to ever converse with someone without titles or importance being in the way.

For a moment Dillon wondered if he should reveal who he was. Perhaps she would be more forthcoming. Yet, he didn’t want to do that either. No lady had taken the time to get to know him for who he was and not the heir to wealth and land. If she were willing to continue in a friendship with a commoner, he would let her. If his assumed low birth became a deterrent, then he would tell her the truth. For the moment though, he simply enjoyed just being Emily and Dillon, with no expectations from the world.

Besides, there was a very good chance Ellings would not find him suitable for his ward. Yes, his family did move in the right circles, but that was because of wealth and the old family name.  He was far below the duke’s station and Ellings may wish to have someone of higher rank for his ward.  Dillon would have to think on this possible problem.

He shook his head and tossed another log on the fire. It was ridicules that his thoughts strayed in that direction. He only just met the lady and should get to know her first. What better way to learn about someone than in this type of environment, where they only had first names between them? Yes, he would court her as Dillon and see if there wasn’t something further between them than his current desire to kiss her.

“The storm has passed. I should be going. My aunt and uncle are probably worried.”

Dillon turned around. She was already standing. At the back door, he helped her on with her damp cloak and escorted her out to the barn.  He didn’t say a word while he saddled the horse and gave her a boost up.  Perhaps he should have found her a mounting block because lifting her convinced him he was right.  She was perfectly formed.

“May I call on you, Emily?”  He knew the risk of being identified by her aunt and uncle, but Dillon could think of no other honorable way to see her again.

“That is not possible.”

His heart sank, but he should have expected her response. It was one thing to sit out the storm with someone, it was quite another to allow a commoner to call on a duke’s ward.

“How am I to explain how we met?” she continued.  “My uncle would not be pleased to know we were alone for so long today.”

Dillon had to acknowledge the truth of her words.  No doubt her uncle would force a betrothal, which was well within his right, but he and Emily wouldn’t be given the chance to get to know each other before being forced to the altar.

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Her face turned pink with question.

Would she risk the venture? Risk being caught?  “Yes. In fact, I will be staying here until the work his complete.”

A smile graced her lips. “Perhaps I will call on you.”  She turned and nudged the horse forward.

Dillon watched her ride away. He had never felt giddy in his life but the thought of Emily calling on him again set his pulse pounding. When she was out of sight, he turned toward the cottage. There was much to do today if he were going to take up residence so that he was here the next time Emily called.

Chapter 2

Emily pulled the covers up over her head. “What had she done? What must he think of her?  She may be only a servant and poor, but that was no reason to act like an ill-bred woman. She had behaved little better than a doxy.  How could she even consider seeing Dillon again?  If she appeared at the cottage today he would certainly consider her of low moral character, which she certainly was not. Good Lord, she actually asked if she could call on him.  Well, the entire idea was preposterous and she wouldn’t add to his already low opinion of her by visiting today.

She rose from the bed to ready herself for the day.  Thank goodness it was storming again because she didn’t trust her resolve to remain true to her plan and feared she would have ridden in that direction despite her best intentions.  She hoped it stormed for a week so she could come to her senses and forget about Dillon.

It did rain for a full week. Seven days with only temporary breaks.  Emily blamed herself. She was the one who had hoped for this, but it hadn’t done any good. In fact, she spent much of her time wondering what Dillon was doing since he couldn’t work on the barn.  Was he becoming as restless as she? Not even her studies took her mind from the memory of the afternoon she spent with him in the cottage. Even though it was extremely ill advised, Emily knew she couldn’t stay away. As soon as a clear day arrived, she knew she would call on Dillon.

When she woke to a sky of blue and sunshine two days later, Emily waited as long as she could before riding to the cottage.  The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt his work. She well knew the need to repair the barn and he already had to wait days. She would never forgive herself if she was the cause of another delay and Dillon’s job was put in jeopardy.  By late afternoon, she could wait no longer and hoped he hadn’t reconsidered his agreement for her to call.

She was surprised to arrive and not find him on the barn. In fact, it looked as if no work had been done as no debris lay on the ground. Her stomach clenched with worry. Had he gone away? Had she been too presumptuous to call the first clear day without first sending notice? It never occurred to her to send a message. Besides, if she had, how could she have done so without her aunt and uncle finding out?

Emily wasn’t ready to turn away just yet. Perhaps he was somewhere else in the yard. She would look there first. If not, then she would decide if she was actually bold enough to knock on the door. Her only fear was that Chambers would be in residence and meeting him or having to explain her presence would never do.

Instead of dismounting, Emily rode to the front of the cottage. It was a lovely, picturesque house. Welcoming in a way she had never felt in any other place besides her father’s home. The front had only a small stoop with a stone walk leading to the front door with two windows on either side.  Bushes had been planted beneath the windows but there was no evidence of any other type of vegetation. Irises and tulips would be lovely come spring but it was doubtful a bachelor like Chambers would appreciate the beauty. Oh, she knew she was being unfair. Just because his parents felt the village inhabitants beneath them, so much so they didn’t visit or welcome anyone into their home, didn’t mean the son was of the same mind. However, her father had taught a number of young gentlemen from similar homes and for the most part they were spoiled and pretentious. As Chambers was an only child there was a very good possibility he was of the same mentality as his sires.

Turning the horse, Emily guided her completely around the house until they were once again at the back beside the barn. Dillon was nowhere to be found and Emily faced another dilemma. Should she dismount and knock on the door?

* * *

With each day it rained, Dillon’s mood became darker.  It was bad enough he couldn’t work on the roof. Worse, Emily couldn’t very well venture out in this weather.  After a week to think about her suggestion that she visit him, she may have come to her senses and realized how unwise the proposal was.  It was already late afternoon and he hadn’t seen her.

She wasn’t coming. Dillon finally admitted it to himself.  There hadn’t been a hint of a rain cloud since yesterday and the picnic lunch was on the table in his kitchen. After days of being inside he thought she would appreciate being out of doors. Apparently his efforts were for naught because Emily didn’t show.

A number of situations could have occurred which kept her away. She could have come to her senses and realized the impropriety and danger in meeting a man alone. Emily did strike him as a sensible young woman.  He only hoped she was not so sensible in the future.  She could have also realized that given his station that she should stay way. She could have found out who he truly was and be angry that he had let her believe otherwise. Or, she could have found out who he was and be waiting for him to call on her as a gentleman should. Regardless of the reason, Dillon would find out tomorrow because he would present himself on her aunt and uncle’s doorstep.

Dillon lifted the basket off of the table. Who said a gentleman couldn’t enjoy a picnic by himself? There were no rules governing such activity. Besides, he couldn’t stand to be inside the cottage a moment longer and he was hungry. He pulled the door open, adjusted the basket over his arm and walked outside to the loveliest sight he had seen in days.

A smile broke on his face. She had come after all and it no longer mattered she waited so late into the day.  “Emily, it is indeed a pleasure to see you again.”

“I decided to take a chance on the weather again and see how you were progressing with the roof.”

Dillon had completely forgotten the roof when he saw her. “I put the roof from my mind and planned on enjoying this rare, fine weather.”

She blushed. “Then I shall continue on my ride and leave you to your plans.”

“I have no set plans, Emily.”  Surely she didn’t expect that she could ride here, exchange a few pleasantries and be on her way.

“You are clearly on your way somewhere.”  She indicated to the basket he held. “I have no wish to delay you.

Dillon had forgotten he was holding the basket. It seemed he forgot a good deal when thinking about or seeing Emily.  She probably assumed he was off to call on someone else. “It is true I had planned on picnicking with a lovely companion.”

Emily looked down and tightened her hold on the reigns.

“However, when she failed to show I decided I would have to picnic alone.”

Emily raised her head and tilted her chin. Her eyes narrowed with skepticism.

Dillon continued. “I hoped you would return but when the afternoon progressed, I assumed you wouldn’t visit again.”  While he spoke, he approached her until he was standing at her side.

Emily looked own into his eyes. “I thought you’d be on the roof and I didn’t want to interrupt your work.”

He grinned up at her.  Had he been a true laborer that is exactly what he would have done.  He hadn’t considered she would have been thoughtful of the situation.  “You are here now.” He lifted the basket. “Will you join me?”

She returned his smile. “I would be most pleased to do so.”

Dillon placed the basket on the ground before he helped her from the horse.  They wandered to a small patch of grass dried from the sun. Not much shelter was offered from the trees this time of year, but the weather was pleasant enough to be outside in a cloak or jacket.

“Why didn’t you come to the door when you didn’t find me outside?”

“I wasn’t sure you were there and had no way of knowing if Chambers was in residence. I didn’t want to have to explain myself to him.”

Dillon took a bottle of wine from the basket followed by a loaf of bread and cold chicken. “Chambers won’t be returning to the cottage until summer.”  When you call again, please knock on the door if I am not outside.” He certainly hoped she did call again.

Emily accepted the glass of wine from him. “That wasn’t the only reason.”

“Enlighten me.” Dillon filled a plate of food for her.

“There was no guarantee I could get back on my horse if you were not here.”  Her face took on a rosy hue.  “Without the assistance of a groom or mounting block, I am at a disadvantage and would have had to walk my mare home.”

Dillon had forgotten the difficulties ladies faced, especially those short in stature and he made a mental note to see that she wasn’t inconvenienced again.

They ate it in silence but Dillon watched her. How could he look anywhere else?  Her cheeks were rosy from her ride and the chill in the air, yet he felt very warm inside. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time the weather had been permissible to picnic in March. Normally he wouldn’t have even considered the idea on a day like today, given the brisk air, but he had been tired of the indoors. Also, he wasn't so sure it was wise for him and Emily to be alone inside the cottage again. Here, there was still a remote chance someone would come upon them. That reason alone kept his attraction at bay. The cozy room where they had first visited would have been too much of a temptation for him and he wasn’t about to test himself in that venue. Not with a lady like Emily. It was difficult enough not to lean over and kiss her heart shaped lips as it was.

* * *

Emily didn’t know what to say, so she continued to eat. He was looking at her. Almost studying her and it was a bit disconcerting. The man unnerved her and he had no right to be as attractive as he was.  Dillon’s eyes were dark, though they sparkled with humor. His hair was in disarray and she imagined he kept it short or the curly locks would be out of control. How she wished she had that problem. Her own hair was straight and not even the best irons and an accomplished maid had ever been able to manage her hair into a style that held for longer than an hour. She had simply given up, which was why her hair was so often pulled away from her face and knotted at the back of her head.

It wasn’t just his hair that she noted either.  Dillon had the thickest, longest black eyelashes she had ever seen. Some things in life were just not fair. Hopefully, those blessings would be passed to a daughter someday and not a son who couldn’t begin to appreciate the asset.

Dillon was also comfortable with himself. A feeling she had lost in recent years.  He was practically lounging on the blanket with one leg straight before him while he leaned on one elbow while eating with the other hand.  The man was as confident as His Grace and the two were worlds apart.

Dillon finished his meal and set his plate aside. “How old were you when your father died?”  He twirled the stem of the wine glass between his finger and thumb.

Emily set her plate aside and quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Is that your way of politely asking my age?”

“Possibly.”

She was never one to worry about age. Besides, she was basically on the shelf so why would it mater? “I am three and twenty. My father died when I was fifteen.”  She tried to gauge his age and guessed him to be about eight and twenty.  “May I make the same enquiry? How long have you been on this earth?”

“I am of an old age. Thirty.”

Emily raised her eyes in mock shock. “As ancient as all that? My goodness, shouldn’t Chambers have pensioned you off by now?”

Dillon lifted the bottle and filled her wine glass as well as his own. “Now that we have established our ages, why don’t you tell me more about yourself.”

Emily thought about what she could say, but the only interesting thing was about her father, which she didn’t want to reveal.  “There is really nothing to tell. My life is quite simple, if not mundane.”  She shrugged.

“Surely there is something that interests you. If you could do anything you wanted, with the free time to do it, what would it be?”

Emily knew the answer immediately. “My studies.” He looked at her oddly with a bit of a frown and his brow wrinkled. Oh dear, did he now think her odd?  Emily was well aware that the appropriate pastime for young ladies was painting, playing an instrument, shopping or needlework. None of those held her attention.

“What would you study?”

Emily thought to change her answer for a moment, but she had already revealed her passion and he might as well know the whole truth about her before he decided if there were going to be further meetings such as this.  “At the moment I am studying the history of Greece and its literature.” Her face heated at remembering some of the most recent writings she had studied.”

“Why the embarrassment?”  Dillon chuckled.  “Though I didn’t particularly care for Homer, I understand others see the appeal.”

“Oh, I have moved past Homer,” Emily answered, even though perhaps she was offering too much information.  Surely he couldn’t know all of the Greek authors, could he? Had she not been sheltered all of her life, she would know what the laborer’s education consisted of while he was still a youth. But, even her father’s students didn’t delve as deeply into literature as she, so it was very unlikely Dillon knew some of the particular authors she’d been reading.

“Which legendary author are you studying now?

“Sappho,” she replied and waited for a reason.

“I am not familiar with him.”

“He is a she,” Emily corrected.

“My apologies.” He bowed his head, though he continued to smile. “I struggled with my historical studies so you have me at a disadvantage in this discussion.”

Emily laughed. Relieved.  She wasn’t sure what type of reaction he would have if he had recalled anything about Sappho.

“What else have you studied, or is it just the Greeks that hold your interest?”

“Oh, this and that,” she hedged.  The more she told of herself the more he would realize how boring she was, and she wanted Dillon to think of her as interesting.  Yet, she had no idea how to be interesting. She didn’t have Claresta’s natural way of speaking with other people in any situation, no matter who they were, that made people love her.  Frankly put, she was awkward in social environments, even those as intimate as this.

“I wouldn’t categorize Greek literature as this and that.”

“If you must know, I am considered a bluestocking. My father was a scholar and I inherited his desire for knowledge.

He grinned at her.  “Thank goodness.”

“Pardon?”  Emily couldn’t begin to comprehend why he made such a statement.

“I feared that once we got past the preliminaries of getting to know one another our topics would be reduced to shopping and current fashion.”

“The only shopping advice you will probably ever hear from me is which bookshops have the best selections in London.”

Dillon chuckled. “Why Greece?”

How thrilling that he wasn’t appalled by her unladylike pastime. “I love history and it was the next country on my list.” Her guardian often warned that gentlemen don’t always appreciate a woman with a mind and that it may be necessary to hide it on occasions. Did that description only fit the elite of the ton? Dillon didn’t seem to be put off by her interests, unless he was only being polite.

“You are unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

Though his tone indicated that he’d just complimented her, she wasn’t entirely sure.

“I might as well confess.”  His cheeks colored a bit and Emily suspected it wasn’t from the cool air. “I have thought of nothing but seeing you again since the day you appeared in the barn.”

Nobody had ever paid her such a compliment.

“Now I find you are intelligent as well as lovely. It is a rare combination indeed.”

How should one respond to such a compliment? “Thank you.”

“I would like to know you better, Emily. Would you be objectionable to my wish?”

* * *

Dillon waited for her answer. What if she rejected him? Had he spoken too soon? Should he have met with her on a few more occasions before confessing anything? But their meetings thus far had been unconventional to say the least.  If someone learned of their encounters, she could be ruined by them.

“I would not be adverse to meeting with you,” she answered in a hushed tone, her face a lovely pink.

Dillon sighed with relief.  He had never contemplated courting a lady, much less asking her permission, but he was extremely glad he asked Emily.  “Shall I speak to your uncle and ask his permission to call on you?

The smile fell from her lips.

What had he said wrong? “Would your uncle reject me?”

Emily took a deep breath and looked up at him.  “I believe he would.”

He needed to explain who he was so she would know her uncle probably wouldn’t mind.  Dillon opened his mouth to speak, but Emily held up her hand to silence him.

“My aunt and uncle believe that once I go to London I will make a great match. They refuse to understand the impossibility given my family circumstances.”

Dillon nodded. Would he now learn what the circumstances were exactly?

“They have asked me, no told me, not to become attached or friendly with any local gentlemen.”

He understood her dilemma, but once she knew who he really was perhaps he could change her mind.

“I know what awaits me, but I have ceased arguing with them. I have decided that when I return in the summer, without the betrothal they hoped for, they’ll realize the truth of my circumstances.”

“Your circumstances cannot be so poor.” Would she offer more information?  Had Ellings not been her guardian, the situation would be simpler. But her connection to the duke made him wonder what he didn’t know about her.

“As I have told you, I have nothing to offer but myself. No wealth, no estate, no title.  What else does one wed for? I am simply Emily.”

“Then you are rejecting my request?”  Dillon was almost afraid of the answer.

“No, not at all,” she stated emphatically. “I only wish to keep it a secret. I’m tired of arguing with my aunt and uncle and it would be easier this way.”

“You would see me in secret?”  Perhaps she wasn’t as sensible as he thought. Didn’t she realize the danger in their being caught?  Didn’t she realize the danger in his attraction to her?

“Yes, if you would be willing. I don’t have many opportunities to meet men while living with my guardian.”

Of that, Dillon didn’t doubt.

“I like knowing you as Dillon and that you fix roofs. I like that you know me as Emily and am studying Greek literature. I would like to know you better without my aunt and uncle’s interference.”

They would learn more about each other in this manner than if they had the backgrounds completely laid before them and he was sitting in the parlor of the ducal mansion. “Very well.  I find the entire idea charming.” In that he was most sincere.

“The only difficulty is I can only meet with you in the day.”

“I don’t see a difficulty in that.”

“You have a roof to finish, and who knows what else.” She gestured around the grounds surrounding his cottage. “I won’t keep you from your work.”

His time was not his own, and Dillon seemed to forget. Or at least Emily didn’t think his time was his own.  “You are correct. I will rise very early each day to get a full day’s work in and then we can meet in the afternoon.”

“You wouldn’t mind?

“I would work the night through, if necessary.

* * *

Emily could have sat on her mare and simply watched Dillon work. He had a build not unlike the Greek statues she had once seen. Though he was fully clothed, the linen shirt did not mask the strain of the muscles of his arms and back.  Dillon had rolled his shirt sleeves to his elbows, and she admired the strength in his forearms and hands as he pulled the old wood from the barn. His legs and buttocks were just as impressive, straining against the material as he would bend, stoop and stand. The man was muscular everywhere, without an ounce of softness to him. Yes, if he were to stand unclothed next to the statue of Mars, no doubt Mars would be found lacking.

Just the thought of seeing Dillon in such a state brought a rush of heat to her cheeks, and Emily had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She even had the sudden urge to fan herself, but controlled this impulse. Such thoughts of Dillon were highly improper. Still, it didn’t keep her from admiring his form as he labored and she remained quiet to his presence.

Dillon straightened and threw a piece of wood over the side into a growing pile of debris. Lifting his arms above his head, Dillon stretched and he turned to survey the work he’d accomplished.

The sight sucked the air right out of her lungs and she quickly inhaled. The man was magnificent indeed. His shirt was plastered against this chest and flat abdomen from the sweat of his work.  How could she help but admire him?

* * *

Dillon had been looking forward to Emily’s visit, but was also somewhat apprehensive now. After she had left the day before, he returned to his father’s library and taken all the books on Greece, its history, literature, everything he could find.  Thank goodness his father horded books on all subjects and had two full rooms dedicated as a library that was nearly overflowing into a third.

The information on Sappho and the island of Lesbos left him somewhat disturbed. All day as he worked at the pulling the old roof from the barn he wondered about Emily and if there was any particular reason she chose that time and place in history to study. Was there a specific reason Sappho interested her and was it related, in any way, to her reason for not wanting a season in London or a betrothal?  Dillon was almost afraid to know the truth.

Young ladies should know nothing of the immoral tendencies that he’d read about. He wondered if Emily even understood what had been written.  It involved all manners of relationships between consenting couples, even some of the same gender.  He had heard of certain houses of ill-repute in London that catered to those adult desires, away from the eyes of the ton and conducted in secrecy because anyone caught involved in such a relationship would be ruined beyond repair.  Much worse than a young woman being found alone with a rake.

Then again, how much exposure had Emily had to the opposite sex?  Perhaps she was curious as to the nature of relationships. She was an intelligent woman, after all.  But was she finding herself more attracted to women than men? He certainly hoped that was not the case.

First, her guardian would never stand for such a situation, and second, there was no place for her to indulge in those desires other than the secreted rooms in Cheapside.

A gasp from below had Dillon turning his head in her direction. She made a very pretty picture indeed, though her face appeared more flushed than on previous occasions. He hoped the climate wasn’t giving her a chill because it wouldn’t do to have her become ill.

He walked to the edge of the roof to greet her and changed his assessment. It wasn’t the chill that caused her high coloring, but another look he recognized all too well – desire.  Perhaps he had no need to be concerned with her current area of study and Sappho was simply a literary interest.  “Good afternoon, Emily.” He should apologize for not being ready to meet her properly, but he wasn’t sorry. He wouldn’t trade her reaction to him for anything in the world.

Emily raised her arm to shield the sun that was shining behind his head to return his greeting. The action caused the green cloak to tighten across her full breasts and Dillon experienced the same desire that he noted in her eyes.

He climbed down from the barn and helped Emily from her horse.  His hands were reluctant to let go of her waist and her hands remained on his shoulders a bit longer than necessary.  It took all of his will to pull away and not kiss her.  They shouldn’t be alone as it was and if he started kissing her now, who knew where it would lead. He needed to keep his distance and behave like a gentleman no matter how unconventional and ill-advised their courtship was.

Dillon offered his arm and led her into the house, leaving her in the parlor. “I’ll be back in a moment, after I’ve changed.”

When he reappeared, Emily was thumbing through one of the books from his father’s library.

“I borrowed those from Mr. Chambers. I thought to read what you were currently studying.”

“Few people own these volumes.”  She placed the book back on the stack.  “Two I have never seen.”

“You may borrow them.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.  They don’t belong to you.”

“They were only collecting dust in that old library. You might as well read them. Somebody should.”

She eyed them with interest. “Are you sure Mr. Chambers wouldn’t mind?”

“I doubt Mr. Chambers would notice.  He has always allowed me to borrow what I wished.”

“I am a bit surprised.”  A frown marred her brow. “I heard that Mrs. Chambers was a bit of a snob. I wouldn’t think she would allow a commoner in her back door unless they were to work in the house.”

Dillon chuckled. His mother’s reputation did precede her. “That is true. Mr. Chambers is a bit friendlier, I suppose.  He has allowed me to use his library in the past and insists upon it. I believe he may love books as much as perhaps your father or Ellings does and does not believe they should be wasted.” Though he couldn’t remember the last time his father cracked a book open. He just liked having them around.  It was his way of displaying his wealth.

“Very well, if you’re sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“I promise.”

She picked up two from the middle of the stack and tucked them under her arm.

“Why don’t you leave them here until it’s time to go? I don’t think carrying those tomes would be comfortable.

“I suppose not.”

“I thought a stroll would be a pleasant way to spend our day.”

“That would be lovely.”

Dillon escorted her out the front door and turned toward a wooded area where he drew her onto a path.  “I am curious, Emily.  Why Sappho?”

“Didn’t you find her work interesting?”  She looked up at him from the corner of her eye as if she were gauging his reaction.

“I suppose it could be described as such,” he hesitantly answered before he deiced to switch tactics. He needed to know if there was a deeper interest in the topic.  “Does Ellings approve of this area of study?”

Emily lowered her head, but he saw a hint of a smile on her lips.  “Do you mean does he approve of me being exposed to the history of Lesbos and the writings of Sappho, and what she alludes to?”

Dillon cleared his throat, surprised by her bluntness. “Ah, yes.  Does he?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged.  “His Grace has never censored my reading.”

“I can’t believe he would approve.”

“It’s history.” She looked up at him, a brilliant smile on her lips.

“True, but it isn’t at all proper for a young lady.”

“Is that so?” she laughed, and eyebrow arched.  “Why exactly?”

“Some of the things I read were shocking.” He hadn’t intended to sound so proper. His friends in London wouldn’t even recognize him, Dillon was sure.

“Then I shouldn’t read the Bible either, I suppose?”

“The two are worlds apart.”  Where was she going with this, and what right did he have to tell her what was proper or not?

“Have you ever read the Bible? In its entirety?” Emily asked with a tilt of her head and smile upon her lips.

Dillon was afraid he was at a disadvantage. “Some, but not all.”

“Have you ever read Song of Solomon?”

“Yes, I have.” At least she picked a book he was familiar with. “That book is about love between a husband and wife.”  He paused and looked at her, narrowing his eyes. The book was an expression of passionate love, but broached in terms that no innocent young lady should understand.  “How much do you understand?”

Emily laughed and shrugged her shoulders without commenting one way or the other.

Her cavalier attitude had Dillon doubting Emily’s innocence. Was that the reason she couldn’t have a season? No, he couldn’t believe that of her.  Yet, she was the one who insisted they meet secretly.  Had she done this before?  On the other hand, was it really important? He wasn’t exactly an innocent himself.

“Still, the two are entirely different,” Dillon insisted.

“Very well, what of Genesis then?”

“Adam and Eve? The two were created for each other. There was no sin until Eve ate of the fruit.”

“No,” Emily responded with a mischievous smile. “Later in the book.”

The historical information she could refer to without hesitation was impressive.

“Sodom and Gomorrah? Are you familiar with what happened to those two towns?”

“Yes, they were destroyed for immorality.” Thank goodness she continued to pick portions of the Bible he remembered.

“Do you know what the sin was?”

Dillon wondered if she was making a fool of him or only having fun at his expense. He would find a way to get back at her, somehow. “I believe it is self-explanatory.” How did a young lady come to have knowledge of such things? He doubted his mother knew the act of sodomy existed, or what it was. Never would he have though to actually discuss the topic, with a lady no less. He should have never questioned her in the first place.

“Then I ask you, how is it different? Why is reading of those instances in the Bible less ladylike than studying the history of Lesbos or the writing of Sappho?”

Now he felt like an idiot. Never had he ever had to be on his guard as he needed to be with Emily. She was quick.  He would need to remind himself that she was not an ordinary lady one met in society but an extremely thoughtful, intelligent woman. He had underestimated her and he would not be able to get by with just his opinion on poetry or the success of any given event. “Genesis doesn't come out and explicitly state what the crimes of the cities were.”

* * *

Emily admitted to herself he had a point.  “You are correct, yet anyone with even a minuscule amount of intelligence would know.”

“That is beside the point. Until you have reached an age of maturity, it is not truly understood. I doubt most women were even aware of the crime.”

“What makes it different from what you have read in Greek history?”  She hadn’t had an interesting discussion, if not debate, with anyone since her father died. Being with Dillon was invigorating.

“They are worlds apart.” He threw his arms wide to emphasize his point.  “Even I was embarrassed reading about Lesbos.”

His face even colored with the admission and Emily was hard pressed not to giggle.  “Which parts were embarrassing?”

Dillon opened his mouth to answer, but stopped and looked at her. His eyes narrowed for a moment. “Oh no, that we are not going to discuss.”

Emily laughed and turned down another trail, leaving him behind her. “What, without going into great detail, do you find so offensive in my studies?”

“The immorality for one,” Dillon called form behind.

“What else?”

“No young lady should read such literature.”

It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. He was so serious in what he thought was proper reading material when he hadn’t bothered to stop and think how improper it was for the two of them to be strolling in the woods all alone. “It is history, writing about an immoral people at an immoral time.”

“It addresses the, ah, physical pleasures.”

“Between men and women, and same gender lovers?” Emily looked over her shoulder at him and smiled.

“Yes. Now you understand.” Dillon caught up to her and turned her to face him.

“I understand that you would have all young ladies sheltered.”

“Why should you be different?”

Emily stepped around him and sighed. “As I have said, it is simply a history. To leave out even the smallest part of a country’s past could change how the entire culture is viewed.”

“How would not knowing about these people change how we understand Greece?”

“I agree that perhaps Lesbos and Sappho is a bit obscure for the average person, but one should not skip over anything we come across because it would change how we understand their literature,” Emily answered in a serious, instructive tone. “How could we ever understand Napoleon if we didn’t know about the Revolution? There would be a gap in understanding. One book would end with a King Louis and Marie Antoinette on the throne. The next would begin with Napoleon.  Historians, years from now, would wonder what happened that the king no longer ruled.”

“It’s not the same at all.  They were not immoral and that bit of history is important.  I don’t see how Greek literature is.”

“It wasn’t immoral to behead part of the population because they were noble, including infants? How many young minds can’t fall asleep at night worrying about very real monsters taking control of their own country?”

“That was France, this is England.”

“The French nobles believed they were safe once upon a time,” Emily argued.

“Touché.”  Dillon nodded his head.  “However, we are discussing morality, not morbidity.”

“You are correct.” Emily nodded her head. “So, why don’t you explain why you still find me knowing such history offensive to you?”

“I don’t find it offensive.  Do you even understand everything you read?”

Emily turned down another path to hide the smile on her face. “Do you mean the many veiled references to physical pleasures?”  How would he react to that question?

“Yes, did you understand it all, or do you need something explained?”

The question brought her up short.  He had turned the tables on her.  She hadn’t expected to have to answer that question directly. “I believe I have a vague understanding.” Her face heated. “And, I don’t believe you need to explain anything to me.”  Goodness, he certainly knew how to put her on the defense.  Just the thought of discussing intimate details with Dillon embarrassed her to the very core.  Generalization was one thing, details were quite another.

“Yet, you still study literature you do not completely comprehend,” Dillon countered.

Emily stopped and sighed. “It is a study of history.  These were immoral people. They believed in Gods. It would be centuries before Christianity found them and still, they were not willing to forsake their pleasures for a God that wasn’t represented in a marble statue.”

“That is all?”

“Yes, if you study the country further, you will see how Christianity changed their beliefs and way of life. But, without knowing from where they came, you cannot appreciate the changes made.”

“I do see your point,” he replied with reluctance in his tone. “But, why Sappho?”

“Why not?”

“There are greater, well-known authors from Greece.”

“I know.”  Emily smiled at him.

“Does she interest you the most?”

Emily shrugged. “Not really.”

“Then why her?” He demanded.

“She was next.”

“Next?”

“I study the authors in order. I started with Aeschylus and now I am to Sappho.”

He groaned. “Who is next?”

Emily grinned up at him.  “Socrates, of course.”

He linked her arm in his and they strolled in silence for a moment.  She wondered if he would return to the immoral topic or move on.

“You have said Greece was next on your list. . . “

“Egypt was a fascinating study. Would you like to hear about it?”

Chapter 3

Leaning against a tree, Dillon smiled when Emily arrived. Though she thought she hid it well, Emily was disappointed in not being able to watch him work, and quickly quashed her unladylike thoughts.

He helped her dismount and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.  “What will we do today?”

Dillon patted her hand. “All in good time.”

Perplexed Emily allowed him to lead her through a different path in the woods. They traveled a very short distance before coming to a clearing and a lake.

“I don’t see a boat.”

Dillon grinned down at her. That smile was enough to cause her breath to hitch.

“Do you swim?”  There was a twinkle in his eye. Surely he wasn’t suggesting they take a dip now. The water would be freezing, not to mention her shift would hide nothing of her person when wet. Perhaps she shouldn’t have encouraged the conversation of yesterday. Encouraged? She more or less led it.  What must he think of her now? “No.”

Dillon chuckled. Had he read her mind? “Remind me to teach you when it is warmer.”

The tension left her muscles and Emily relaxed.

“Nor do I need a boat. He led her to an area he already prepared with a blanket and refreshments.

Her nerves were on edge. They were even more isolated than before, even though they had walked paths through the woods.  What did he have planned and had she blindly trusted him to be a complete gentleman because he had made no advances before? Had their highly improper debate yesterday led him to believe she was any less moral than she actually was?  “What exactly do you have planned?”

Dillon continued to grin. “Have you ever been fishing, Emily?”

“Fishing?”

“I am assuming you at least heard about this activity.”

“O-of course.” Why was she stammering?”

“Shall we?” He gestured to two poles by the water’s edge.

* * *

Any confidence he witnessed the day before dissolved when Dillon placed the fishing pole in her hands. He tried to show her how to bate the hook and could swear she turned green.  Giving up, he baited it for her and then showed her how to cast out her line.  First she snagged on a bush, second a tree, the third his back, and Dillon took the pole away.  She remained mum while he cast out his own line and in short order caught a fish.  When he tried to show her how to take it from the hook, her face went deathly pale and he soon gave up trying to teach her and at her insistence released the fish back into the lake.

They settled onto the blanket and he withdrew wet cloths. “Which did you most dislike?” He grinned while washing her hands. “The baiting of the hook or taking the fish off the line?”

Emily visibly shuddered.  “I am not sure I will ever eat fish again.”

He tossed the cloths aside and took out wine, cheese and bread. “The only problem is I don’t know what I will do about dinner now.” He turned serious. “You did make me let my fish go.”

Emily blanched.  Dillon couldn’t help but laugh at her. “I am teasing. That was not my dinner.”

She punched him in the arm. “That was unkind.”

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth popped open. “I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Oh, I’ve never done . . .”

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. He wasn’t offended. Her punch had been completely unexpected and something no lady of his acquaintance would have ever done. It wasn’t as if it even hurt. It showed how relaxed she was with him, but that action was more of one of sisterly affection, somewhat disappointing in a way.  Despite that, she was a complete delight, intelligent, witty and confident during their discussion, unlike any woman he had ever encountered, then completely feminine, sweet and helpless when faced with a hook and line. He couldn’t wait to discover more about her.

“It doesn’t hurt any longer.” He patted his arm. “But you could kiss it to make it better.”

Her blush deepened. “I am so sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before. Truthfully, I’m not a violent person. I don’t know what came over me.”

Dillon grabbed her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Think nothing of it. I was teasing you abominably and deserved much worse.”

“Still . . .”

“Hush.” Dillon leaned closer. “I am glad you felt comfortable enough to express your feelings.”

Emily didn’t speak.  His hand came up and cradled her cheek and his thumb brushed across her bottom lip. He waited for a reaction. Just one taste, then he would pull away. One, simply, chaste kiss, not unheard of in a courtship.

He leaned closer and closer and Emily didn’t move a muscle. His lips met hers, firm and gentle and he pulled away immediately.  It was safer this way.

Dillon looked down at her through hooded eyes. Why did she look perplexed? Certainly she knew what a kiss was, didn’t she? Surely she wasn’t completely ignorant. The lady read about Sappho of Lesbos for goodness sakes.  This could only mean that intellectually she knew of the more pleasurable aspects of life but had no experience. He would be more than happy to show her all the wonders of physical pleasure.

Her eyes lifted up to him in wonder and consideration. Did he read disappointment as well? He shouldn’t be surprised. As far as kisses went, it was an extremely tame one. Perhaps a longer kiss would erase the dismayed looked. He lowered his head once again. This time he used a bit more pressure. His hand found her chin and the other the back of her head. Gently his tongue traced her lips. She opened and he entered. Though Emily wasn’t exactly participating, she wasn’t trying to pull away either. Angling his head he delved deeper, drinking her, tasting the wine. Slowly, she began kissing him back, hesitantly at first, as a babe takes new steps. When she began to imitate him, Dillon all but groaned, especially when Emily quietly moaned herself.

He had never kissed an innocent before and had avoided it until this moment. There were a number of reasons why he hadn’t but he could think of none of them now. She tasted so good and responded enthusiastically. The planned chaste kiss had quickly led to a passionate embrace.  He burned to pull her closer, mold her body to his, touch her everywhere. It was much too soon and certainly not the right arena for such activities. Still, he could not keep from kissing her. He’d never spent this much time just kissing a woman. Usually it was just a prelude before he began kissing the more delectable areas of her body, but he didn’t dare move his lips anywhere else. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Instead, he continued to ravage her mouth and she in turn learned to ravage his.

Slowly Dillon pulled away. He had to for fear of losing control. Never had a kiss led him to this state before. Hopefully her education hadn’t been completely explicit or a mere glance down would reveal how very aroused he was at the moment. Such a sight would send Emily running and the last thing he wanted was for her to leave him, especially now.

* * *

Emily slowly came out of her daze. That had to be the most delicious experience of her life. Who could ever imagine the melding of two mouths would be quite so incredible? Nothing she had ever read before prepared her for this experience. Then again, how would someone explain what just occurred, capturing the feeling and yearning? Impossible! She was an intelligent person and she couldn’t think of any way to describe what she felt except wonderful, incredible, astonishing, magnificent and they were all so inadequate. She lifted her eyes to his face and found him studying her.

Dillon said nothing. He planted a quick, chaste kiss on her lips and then pulled away, grinning before he picked up the basket. “We should return. It has grown quite dangerous to be alone with you.”

He stood, then held out his hand, beckoning her. “Come.”

Hesitantly, Emily grasped his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. Her legs were a bit shaky at the moment and she willed herself to stand.  She took a step toward him, wanting to kiss him again, but apparently Dillon’s mind had moved on.  How could he possibly have recovered so quickly? Her own pulse was still racing.

Perhaps men just reacted differently.

* * *

The following day Dillon was determined to remain outside the cottage, not in the woods or by the lake.  If they remained in the yard there was still the slight chance of someone coming upon them.  If he kept that in mind, then he would be able to keep his lips and hands off Emily.  He stood in the road, looking at the front of the cottage when she arrived.

“What do you find so interesting?” she asked as he helped her from the horse.

“The yard and porch need something I think.”

“Would you care for my opinion?”

Dillon immediately accepted and led her to the front of the house.  For the next hour she described the different landscaping she would use and the flowers and foliage to give the cottage a welcoming view.  Dillon listened and committed every plant, flower and bush to memory.  Though consciously he didn’t dissect why he made the decision, he knew the yard would be planted exactly the way Emily described.  He would have never given a woman that power before.  Such encouragement could lead the lady into believing there was a future with him. Yet, he wanted it to be exactly as Emily had described.

Though the temptation was strong, Dillon kept himself from touching her.  The night had been long enough after that kiss with his body urgently desiring what he had no right to ask of her.  He was completely honest with himself and knew that if he touched her, there was no guarantee he could stop with just kissing.  Nor did he want to put himself through such physical discomfort again.  Further, he had no desire to ruin Emily.  Their courtship must slow down and she must be given her season in London.  Hadn’t Marius done the same for Sabrina?  Look how perfectly that had worked out.  It didn’t matter that Emily didn’t see this as a season for herself.  What mattered was that he would reveal himself in London and surprise her.  With that in mind, Dillon reminded himself to move slowly.

The congratulations he gave himself when she had gone was a small comfort.  He’d been wise to wait until she was back on her mare before kissing her.  Pulling her forward, he had kissed her with more passion than the day before and Emily had responded equally.  She had even gone so far as to wrap one arm around his neck while holding the horse’s reigns in the other.  It took all of his willpower not to lift her off that horse and carry her into his cottage.  He needed to get his passion under control before it was too late.

* * *

Two days later Emily arrived to a yard full of plants and bushes.  Dillon had already begun digging the beds, filling and preparing the soil.  It looked as though all that was needed was to plant.  It turned out to be exactly the plan.  Dillon had prepared everything and had somehow obtained the flora she had listed off.  He just couldn’t remember where they were to be placed.  In no time at all Emily helped by placing the various buckets in the beds.

Dillon was grateful for the activity of digging.  It kept his hands busy and his mind almost focused.  Was it his imagination or did she look lovelier today?

Once the work was completed, Dillon stepped back, hands on his hips, well pleased with his work that day.  While he’d finished the last bed, Emily had gone into the kitchen to fix him a refreshment.  The contentment he felt for the work and the thought of Emily puttering in the kitchen was unlike anything he’d experienced before. Could he hope that this was their future?

Admittedly, the cottage wasn’t large or impressive, at least not compared to his family’s estate or the town home in London.  But, this was his favorite place to be.  He had always been conscious when considering a young lady in the past, wondering if she would be content to spend months here, away from London.  None of those he met would.  In fact, he couldn’t think of a single lady who would even stay for a week so far away from society with no servants. Yet, Emily seemed to like the place.  Or so he thought.  Maybe she simply didn’t mind since it was the only place they could meet.  Having lived with the duke, she was certainly used to all the luxuries life offered, and surprisingly had offered to fix him a refreshment.

If only he could find a way to learn more about her background, then he would know if he was free to court her.  Since he could remember his duty had been very clear in the type of marriage or title he would marry.  Emily had to have a high connection.  He couldn’t imagine she didn’t, not given who her guardian was.

He did manage to learn a few more interesting facts the previous day when he’d gone to his parent’s estate to see the gardener.  According to Simms, Emily’s mother had married a titled gentleman, but he couldn’t recall who.  The aunt had heard from her sister only occasionally before she died.  Apparently they’d lived in Scotland, but Simms couldn’t offer anything further because Emily’s mother hadn’t been raised here.  Aunt Beatrice had only taken up residence in Pevensey upon her own marriage.

One daughter married a lord and the other, a country gentleman who made his earnings in trade.  Had Emily’s mother married higher than her station or Beatrice lower?  Dillon shrugged mentally as Emily returned, carrying a tray.  He would have his answers eventually.

* * *

Three days of rain plagued them after the front yard had been planted and Dillon grew irritated as each day passed as he was unable to see Emily.  Today, the sun shined brightly and Dillon sat on a bench beneath one of the trees, facing his newly landscaped yard waiting as Emily arrived.

“It is simply lovely.”  She sighed with a dreamy smile.

Dillon couldn’t agree with her more and brought her hand to his lips, though he wasn’t looking at the yard.

“Now that the outside is complete, would you mind giving your opinion on the inside?”

“What would Chambers think?  Shouldn’t he be directing the decorating?”

“I believe he would appreciate the opinion of a lady to make this place more pleasing.”

“Why?” she asked with a laugh.  “He doesn’t even live here.”

Dillon lifted an eyebrow.  “Perhaps he plans on bringing a lady here.”

Emily’s eyes opened in shock and she whispered, “A trysting place, you mean?”

Dillon chuckled at her innocent question.  “I’d hope he would have more honorable intentions.”

Emily straightened.  “I should hope so,” she stated indignantly.

* * *

Emily offered a few suggestions and only minor ones as Dillon gave her a tour of the house.  The final room was Chamber’s bedroom.  “So, this is Chamber’s chamber.”  She giggled.  Dillon rolled his eyes at her.

The room was at the corner of the house and graced with two windows on each corner wall.  Emily went to the side first and gasped at the view.  Not far way she could see the lake where they’d fished.  At the moment, ducks frolicked in the water.  Even when the trees were in full foliage one would be able to see the peaceful water.  The view from the back windows actually looked down on the front yard.  There she could see the beds recently planted with nothing obstructing her view.  It was a pleasant sight indeed and she tried to imagine how it would be on a warm, summer evening with the windows open.  A summer breeze would bring the sweet fragrance into the room.  There was nothing to change here.

Finally she turned and smiled.  “This room and its location are perfect.  Whomever Chambers brings here will be very pleased indeed.”

“I am glad you like it.”

“It is not I who needs to like it.”

Dillon drew up to her side.  “Still, I’m glad you do like it.”  He pulled her closer until their bodies touched.

Emily knew he was going to kiss her.  She had waited through three days of rain to be kissed again.  Without thought, she lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders as he bent his head towards hers.  It was the first time she realized how much taller he was than her.  The first time they had kissed they had both been seated.  The other times he had waited until she was on her horse.  This was her first kiss standing.

* * *

His lips feathered across hers gently at first before becoming forceful.  When he touched his tongue to her lips, Emily opened for him.  Soon they were drowning in each other.  Dillon brought his hand behind her head for leverage as he plundered.  Emily’s hand went behind his neck and into his hair, holding him close.  Her breasts flattened against his chest. Dillon’s hand slid down her back and to her hips, gently pushing her closer, bringing her stomach in contact with his aroused state. His other hand left the back of her head and slid down her arm and to her waist.  From there he caressed her waist, ribs and soon his hand found her breast.  Emily moaned. Their mouths remained fused.  He was on fire for her.  Beneath her dress he could feel her nipple tighten and he stroked, bringing her pleasure and himself pain.  He knew he was only torturing himself but he couldn’t stop from awakening her passions.

His mouth left hers and trailed down her jaw, behind her ear and to her neck.  Dillon stopped his kissing trail when he reached the top of her bodice.  He wanted nothing more than to slip a few buttons free and continue, but he didn’t trust himself.  He knew that if he gave himself permission for two buttons, he would eventfully reason away her dress and that could not, under any circumstances, happen now.  It was up to him to bring this to an end because Emily was beyond protesting.  She clinged to him for support and her breath now came in passionate pants.  He could easily take her now and she would be too lost in waves of physical pleasure that she wouldn’t be aware of what he was about until he pierced her innocence.  That thought alone had him pulling away.  Despite her passionate response, he couldn’t forget that she was an innocent and hadn’t even been kissed until a week ago.

Emily appeared dazed when Dillon finally focused on her face.  Her eyes were heavy lidded, her lips swollen and a pleasant, rosy color formed on her cheeks.  He had never seen a lovelier, more desirable woman in his life.  Groaning, he completely disengaged his body from hers.  “We should return outside.”  He sounded strangled even to his own ears.

Slowly, Emily’s eyes seemed to focus on him and she smiled. “Yes. I suppose.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room.  He was very close to losing his resolve to keep her innocent, despite his honorable intentions.  His gut and heart knew where he was proceeding but, he was a bachelor, thirty years of age, and this particular path needed to be traveled slowly and carefully.

Emily sighed as she settled back on the bench once they were again outside.  “Do you think Chambers would sell this property?”

Dillon looked down at her, surprised by the question. His lips quirked into a smile.  “I’m not sure.  He is rather fond of the place”

“I do have a small, very small inheritance from my father.  I suppose it has been earning interest over the years.”

“I thought you said you had nothing to offer in the marriage mart.”

“The amount is not enough incentive for anyone in society to seriously consider me.”

Dillon had to wonder if Emily ever looked in a mirror.  Her face and form were incentive enough.

“I know it wouldn’t be enough for a place like this but I believe His Grace would loan me the extra.”

Dillon was intrigued with how her mind worked and was curious to see how she would proceed.  “How would you pay him back, even if he allowed you to leave his household?”

Emily easily dismissed his questions.  “Claresta will be married in a year or two and no longer in need of a companion.  Given my age, the duke will no longer need to feel responsible for me.  I shouldn’t really remain in his household much longer.”

Dillon seriously doubted that Ellings would agree.

“Paying him back would be simple enough.  I had planned on finding a position as a governess.  Perhaps I should consider teaching instead.  I’m sure I could find a position with the school in the village.”

He couldn’t believe she thought to work.  Regardless of who her father was, Emily was still the ward of a duke and wards of such powerful men did not earn that own way in the world. He knew enough of Ellings to be positive he would never let Emily take a position.

“Or, a number of families are placed well enough for their daughters to have a season.  I could instruct the young ladies in etiquette and all manners of polite society to prepare them for a debut.  My earnings should be quite enough to support me and pay Ellings back his loan.”

Dillon was stunned.  Emily shouldn’t be teaching anyone but her own children.  Though it wasn’t uncommon for an impoverished noblewoman to become a governess, he didn’t plan on Emily facing that fate.  “You seem to have thought this through, thoroughly.”

“Oh, I have.”  She turned toward him. “I’ve been planning for the past two years.”

“Now you wish to live here?” he asked quietly.

“I’ve never seen a more perfect place in my life.”  Emily sighed, returning her eyes to the cottage.

His heart raced at the thought of her living here with him.  “You’ll return after the season?” he asked.

“Yes.  I would like to.”

“Can I hope that you will wish to continue spending time with me?”  He searched her eyes.  He knew all too well how much simplicity could be erased once in the grander town of London.  Especially at the height of the season.  He was also becoming increasingly uncomfortable for not having told her who he really was.  He knew that she would probably be angry at first.  Hopefully she would remember how they felt at this very moment.

Emily continued to smile.  “Yes.  I’ll be looking forward to my return.”

“I’ll be waiting for you, on this bench, the first day of July.  If you don’t return, I will know you had a change of heart.”

Emily smiled and placed her hand on his cheek.  “I’ll be here.”

At her assurance, Dillon leaned over and kissed her gently.  Emily sighed as he pulled away.

* * *

Today was sunny, bright and unusual for an English day in April   As they lived in a country plagued with more rain and dreariness than anyone should have to face, days like today were all the more appreciated.   Neither of them wanted to be inside, so Dillon had set up a picnic area near the lake before she had arrived.  These past days that he had spent with Emily were becoming more precious and special than a sunny day in an English spring.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had looked so forward to seeing a woman and so anxious to spend time with her, simply talking.  Of course he wanted to do more than just talk.  He had been very careful not to let their physical desires get out of hand since the day they had toured the cottage.  Dillon feared his own control at stopping his passion where Emily was concerned.

It had never been a problem before.  Yes, he loved women, always had.  He’d had many lovers in his past, but none had ever caused him to fear losing control or being too caught up in his passion to stop anything before it was too late and there was a permanent reminder of their time together.   Additionally, Emily wasn’t a lover or mistress.  She was his friend and an innocent.  She had been raised by a gentleman and now was the ward of the Duke of Ellings.  A gentleman did not take liberties with that type of woman without appreciating the duty he would be required to fulfill in marrying her if he let his passions gain control.  Not that marrying Emily would be any hardship.  Hardly that.  His concern was they hadn’t told each other everything about themselves.  Yes, they had fascinating discussions and knew of each other’s favorite pastimes.  Neither knew the other’s last name or from which family they came from.  Such minor details were very important in the world in which they live.

He didn’t doubt that her connections were high, but a part of him wondered at that as well.  If her connections were so high, why was she spending so much time with a laborer, a commoner?  That one little concern stayed at the back of his mind and helped cool his ardor.  It could simply be that she wasn’t pretentious as so many others or it could be that something truly horrible had happened that kept her from the ton.  If so, how terrible and would his parents have an apoplexy if he pursued her?  There was too much Dillon still needed to learn about his Emily before taking the final path that he believed they were destined upon.

At least he now understood his friends’ obsessions with their own wives.  Until he’d met Emily, Dillon hadn’t understood.  Now he knew what it felt like to be in love, to finally meet that one person you wanted to spend every moment with.  It was dangerous thinking, that he knew, but Dillon freely admitted that he could very well be falling in love with Emily.  He recognized his own symptoms from the same signs he had seen in Marius, Taylor, Martin and Richard, when they had finally given in and acknowledged their emotions.  They’d acted not unlike he was feeling now.  To think he had feared never finding what they had been blessed with.  Dillon had often worried that his opportunity for such joy had died years ago with Rose, when they had both been too young to appreciate how rare their bond had been.  Now, he was almost sure he was being given another chance.  Still, there were too many unanswered questions between them.

All that would be rectified once they met in London.  Of course, that was his fear as well.  While his friends had finally found a one and only love, none of their paths had been easy and often the obstacles were outright dangerous to the health of those involved.  Those concerns bothered Dillon also.  Was he borrowing trouble or would he have to endure some pain and difficulty in the future, all because of one woman who he happened to meet on a rainy day in the country and, who was gradually stealing his heart away?

* * *

Emily was beginning to feel guilty for being less than honest with Dillon.  Oh, she hadn’t actually lied to him, but she hadn’t told him that her father had been a professor at Oxford either.  She was a gentleman’s daughter while Dillon was a commoner.  She knew that such was unimportant between them but, as their relationship developed, would it become an issue?  She sincerely hoped not.  It wasn’t as though she would put the class difference between them, but she was afraid one day he would.  Her uncle and aunt had warned her to not become involved with the local gentlemen because they would be uncomfortable and see her above them in their station.  They had told her that some may even try to court her, but doubted anyone would be serious enough to ask for her hand.  Their simple lifestyle of trade and financial worries would be too much of a hardship for her.  Though Emily tried to assure her aunt and uncle that would not be the case, they convinced her it was best to avoid the situation until at least she had been to London for the season.

The guilt of having kept her secret meetings with Dillon from her aunt and uncle were eating at Emily as well.  Of course if anyone ever learned she would be entirely, unequivocally ruined, but that wasn’t what bothered her.  What worried her was that perhaps Dillon was only toying with her, without ever seriously considering her for a future.  How often had he reminded her of her London season to come?  How often had she had to remind him that it wasn’t her season but that of Claresta?  He simply smiled and shook his head as if he didn’t really believe her.  Should she tell him who she really was so he would understand that she didn’t intend to search for a wealthy, titled husband in that city?  Would the circumstances of her guardian brand her as being more of a lady than she truly was?  Oh, if only she had been around common folk more often and not the gentry that had visited her father and now the duke, Emily would know.  Or at least she would have an idea of how he would react, or possibly what he was even thinking now.

As she turned up the lane to the cottage, Emily decided discussing it would probably do no good anyway.  Every time she had broached the subject of her birth with her aunt and uncle, or tried to remind Dillon that she was nothing more than who she was, they smiled indulgently at her, as if not really believing.  Emily was afraid the only way any of them would understand would be when she returned in the summer, unattached and still herself.  What if Dillon met someone else in the time she was gone?  What did she stand to lose by leaving to join her friend?  Emily didn’t want to think on it too strongly.  She already knew her heart was more involved with Dillon than she ever thought possible.  Yes, she was falling in love with the handsome, witty, charming and intelligent man and she knew she would never meet anyone like him again.

Emily rode to the cottage and stopped in the yard without dismounting and looked around.  She loved it here.  Dillon walked out from the barn when he saw Emily, but stepped back into the shadows.   Upon seeing him in the barn, Emily lifted her hand to wave, but Dillon’s serious expression and a quick negative shake of his head prompted her to lower her arm and look around.  It was then she saw that her uncle was approaching.  Why was he here?  Had he found out that she had been meeting Dillon in secret?  She should have known this would happen.  In the event that he didn’t know, she planted a smile on her lips and waited for him to get closer.  “Uncle, were you wanting to ride and enjoy this day as well?”

“Actually, no.  I came looking for you.  I knew you rode off in this direction and followed”

The smile fell from her face.  “Is something wrong?”

“No.”  He hastened to assure her.  “His Grace’s carriage has arrived. He would like you to return to London sooner than planned.”

A grip of panic seized her.  It was too soon.  “I’m not ready to leave.”

Her uncle offered an indulgent smile.  “I know, dear.  Your aunt and I would like you to stay longer as well, but His Grace has summoned you.”

Emily knew she had little choice.

“Why did you ride here, Emily?”  her uncle asked after taking in his surroundings.

The question surprised her.  “I discovered it one day while riding.  It is the most charming cottage, don’t you think?”  She turned her uncle’s attention away from the barn.  Emily hoped Dillon had heard their discussion so he didn’t believe she had simply disappeared without an explanation.

“It’s owned by the Chambers’ son,” her uncle informed her.

“Yes, I know.”

“Have you by chance met the young man?”  He watched her closely.

“No, why do you ask?”

“It wouldn’t be proper without an introduction.  Well, come along then.  Beatrice has started your packing.”

Emily turned her horse to follow but looked back toward the barn.  Dillon stepped outside, a sad smile on his face.  He had heard.  He blew her a kiss and bowed his farewell.

Chapter 4

One Month Later – London

“Oh, I do wish you would go with us, Emily.”  Claresta paused for one last look at herself in the mirror.

Emily gave her an indulgent smile.  “This is your night.  Your very first entrance into society.  Let His Grace worry about you alone.”

“If you were by my side he would worry less,” Claresta argued hopefully.

Emily laughed.  “I don’t believe that is an accurate statement.” Emily lifted the girl’s wrap and set it on her shoulders.  “Now, go and enjoy yourself.  I’ll wait up so you can share all the details.”

Emily bid the family goodnight before wandering off to the library.  In truth, she had no desire to attend any of the societal functions but eventually she would have to.  If Her Grace wasn’t available, it would fall to Emily to act as chaperon.  What Emily really wished was to return to the country, to return to Dillon.  She’d already been in London for a fortnight and it felt is if it had been a year.  She was restless in the confines of the city and not even her studies held any appeal.  Too often her mind returned to the days spent with Dillon and she was beginning to wonder if she had imagined everything.  If only she had thought to ask his last name and direction then she could send a note.  She knew so little about the man yet, so much as well.

* * *

Dillon had agreed to attend this event for two reasons.  If he were true to his word in finding a bride, then this was where he should be.  Once again he regretted his agreement with his mother and as soon as his friends began to arrive, he quickly left her side.  The true reason he faced this event was because Ellings was to be here and Dillon hoped Emily would attend with the family.  The opening ball of the season was the perfect place to see her once again.  Hopefully, with a large crowd surrounding them, she wouldn’t show her anger.  Once he past that moment then all would be well.

Dillon had taken up a position next to Lady Phoebe Sandlin, where he had an excellent view of each arrival.  He tried to converse and pay little attention to each new attendee, but couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to the top to the stairs.

Phoebe eyed him with humor. “Is there someone in particular you’re waiting for?”  she asked with eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile.

Before he could respond, the Duke and Duchess of Ellings were announced, along with their daughter, Lady Claresta.  Dillon waited and watched but Emily didn’t appear.  Where was she?  More families and debutantes came through the door and still, she didn’t arrive.  Masking his disappointment and avoiding Phoebe’s curiosity, Dillon made his way to the card room. The evening continued downhill as he proceeded to loose one hundred pounds before he finally removed himself from the table.

Unable to keep Emily from his mind, Dillon wandered back to the ball. Finally, he determined that he would just ask about the lady.  What harm could there be in that?

As he made his way across the crowded ballroom, he noted a dozen men and women surrounded the couple and their daughter.  Dillon couldn’t possibly begin to get close, nor did he try but listened to snippets of conversations. Finally, mother and daughter pulled away from the crowd, intent on their way to the retiring room.  Dillon was just about to interrupt as they passed when he caught the girl’s words.

“Oh mother, I can’t wait to tell Emily about this evening.”

Dillon didn’t hear the mother’s reply, but it did answer the question he had been asking himself.  Emily was with the ducal family, but for some reason had not attended.  Satisfied that he knew where she could be found, he left the ball.  Tomorrow would be another night and perhaps she would be present.

* * *

Three nights and five balls later Emily still hadn’t made an appearance.  Dillon arranged to be close to Lady Claresta long enough to pick up on conversations with her mother. Emily was still in residence though for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why she was not accompanying the family. Emily had insisted that she wasn’t coming to London for a husband.  Dillon just hadn’t been able to believe that a beautiful young lady would choose to stay home instead of attending balls and other activities.  Such a characteristic in a wife only made her more desirable to him.

He may just have to present himself on the duke’s doorstep.  It wasn’t how he had wanted their first meeting in society to occur, but if necessary, he would take those steps.  Walking from the ballroom, he vowed that if Emily didn’t attend any functions by the end of the week, he would call on her at her home.  The only reason he hadn’t called on her yet was she couldn’t yell and scream at him in public. In a private home, nothing kept her from venting her anger.  He wanted to let the shock sink in and let her think about the situation, and understand why he’d withheld his full name before they were alone.

* * *

Emily was able to avoid going into society for five days before Her Grace forced her to accompany them.  She had successfully avoided attending any balls or dinners but the musicale was something Her Grace would not let her miss.

“The time will come, Emily, when I will want you to accompany Claresta, even if it is simply for a drive in the park.  I don’t want you to be a stranger to the others.”

“If I remain as a chaperon or companion in the background, that is all anyone will think I am and ignore me,” Emily argued.

“You are neither a chaperon nor companion to my daughter.  You are our ward and thus should take your place in society,” Her Grace pointed out.

“I have no place in society.  You know that as well as I.  Why can’t I just simply be Claresta’s companion?”

“Because His Grace would like to see you out amongst the gentry.  He still hopes to see you settled.”  The duchess smiled softly to her.

It was on the tip of Emily’s tongue to confide in the woman who was much a mother to her as her own had been, but Emily wasn’t sure what she should confide.  She knew so little of Dillon and Her Grace might find her behavior scandalous and disappointing.

Sighing, Emily turned for the door of the drawing room.  “Very well.  I will dress for this evening and return shortly.”

“Emily,” Her Grace called after her.  “This is not the end of the world.  You might just enjoy yourself.”

“Perhaps.”

* * *

It had not been not an enjoyable evening so far.  If the music continued in this vein, it just might be the end of the world after all.  Goodness, but the young lady had so little talent.  Here was evidence that a parent saw only the delight in their child.  If they could truly hear what Emily was hearing, they would never let the poor girl sit at a pianoforte or sing again.  Thank goodness she was coming to the end of her piece and Emily prayed it was the end of the performance.

With a soft, trailing end, the young woman lifted her fingers from the keys and smiled to her audience, who applauded politely.  A young lord, smiled indulgently, approached her and escorted her from the seat.  Emily was hard pressed not to applaud the silence.  Soon, the others in the room began to mill around and converse with one another, though Emily remained in her seat, trying to blend into the chair.

“Lady Aldridge is serving refreshments, dear.  Would you care to join us?” the duchess asked.

“No thank you.  I would rather stay here.”  She had no wish to join the guests headed from the room.  With any luck they would all leave.

As the crowd thinned, Emily moved from her chair to stand by the long window looking out over the garden.  It was as she had predicted and hoped.  Nobody noticed her as long as she wasn’t with the Her Grace.  A duchess tended to attract attention.  Most of the guests had left the room for the promised refreshments except a few couples who remained behind.  One such couple stood at another window.  Emily could see the woman’s face, which was softened with a smile and her cheeks were slightly blushed.  A blond head was bent, whispering in her ear.  The lady turned to respond to his words, and Emily was struck by the love that shown in her eyes.  It stabbed her heart to see such love and she couldn’t help but wonder if the same was in her future.  The only man she had ever known was Dillon and she could easily love him.  It was a thought she quickly put aside.  It would do no good wondering about such a thing.  They had promised each other nothing and there was no guarantee he would still be free when she returned in July.  It was better not to dwell on how much she missed him and concentrate on surviving the season.  When she returned to her aunt, then she would see if Dillon still held the same appeal or if he was even interested in continuing their odd relationship.  Emily couldn’t even bring herself to call it a courtship since they always met in secret and, no intentions had been declared.  Only an agreement to meet.

The man turned to escort the lovely lady from the room and Emily smiled, averting her eyes.  She knew him.  It had been many years, but she did know him.  Taylor, something or other.  Oh, yes. Qualls.  He became Lord Sandlin before he was out of school and had been a student of her father’s and her first serious crush.  He probably didn’t even remember her.  Still, it was nice to see a familiar face.

Why hadn’t it occurred to her before that she could meet her father’s former students in London?  They had been titled or heirs to titles then, which would put them in society.  She doubted anyone, other than Noah, would recall her, but Emily began rethinking her position on attending functions.  Even if she didn’t ever speak with them, she would like to see what type of men they had grown into and what type of wives they had taken.

Sensing a presence behind her, Emily turned from the window and came face to face with Taylor.

“It is you,” he stated.

“It is I,” Emily returned with a small smile.  It was nice to be recognized by one of the gentlemen her father had taught.

“Miss Emily Frasier,” Taylor paused for a moment.  “Is it still miss?”

“Yes.”

“Miss Emily Frasier, may I present my wife, Phoebe Sandlin.”

Emily sank into a curtsey.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

Taylor reached for her elbow and lifted her back into a standing position.  “What would your father have said to that display?” he asked with a gruff tone, but a twinkle in his eyes.

“That it is appropriate for the circumstances, Lord Sandlin,” Emily replied confidently.

“You have never addressed me by my title before,” Taylor reminded her.

“We are no longer in my father’s home with his rules.”

“It feels awkward and I don’t like it.  After all, we do share a history and I wish you would continue to address me as you have in the past.”

“Very well, Taylor.”  Emily returned his smile, warmed that he really remembered her and sought her out.

Taylor turned to his wife.  “Professor Frasier refused us to be addressed by titles or even last names in his home.  He insisted it was to humble us to make us better men than the current gentlemen of the ton.  If we remembered we were men and not aristocracy we would be better for it.”

Emily warmed at the memory.

“I’ve been told.” Lady Sandlin smiled and returned her attention to Emily. “You must call me Phoebe as well.”

“I am not sure that is proper, my lady.”

“Of course it is,” Taylor interjected.

Emily looked again at Phoebe, Lady Sandlin, who nodded her head in agreement.

“I brought you some punch, Emily, since you didn’t wish to join us for refreshments,” Her Grace approached from behind the Sandlins.

“Thank you.”  Emily accepted the cup.  “May I introduce Lord and Lady Sandlin.  Lord Sandlin was a student of my father’s”

The older woman smiled warmly.  “I am well acquainted with them, my dear.” Her Grace turned to Lady Sandlin.  “You look lovely as always, dear, and how are the children?”

“They are well, thank you.”

The duchess then turned her attention to Lord Sandlin.  “You, my lord, are you well also, and are you taking proper care of your wife?  Raising twins can’t be easy.”

Taylor wasn’t put off by the duchess.  “I try my best, Your Grace.”

“See that you do.”  She turned back to Emily.  “I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before.  I should have remembered that you would probably become reacquainted with your father’s former students.  Perhaps it would have gotten you out of the house sooner.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.  I would have doubted they’d remember me.”  Emily shrugged.

“How could we not?”  Taylor argued, then glanced at the duchess.  “She was always part of her father’s studies.  Emily knew more about history than I and she was merely a child.  It was quite insulting and something none of us forgot.”

“You exaggerate.”  It was nice to hear praise from one of them.  Her father had chosen his special students well.

“Did she take part in the tutoring?”  the duchess asked, intrigued.

“She was with us most of the time when we visited.  Her father liked having her close, and we really didn’t mind.  Even at a young age Emily had more maturity and sense than the young ladies we met in society.”

Emily looked away, her face heated at the compliment.

“Well, she risks turning into a spinster,” Her Grace informed him. “This is the first function she has agreed to attend with my daughter and me.  She wouldn’t even allow my husband to give her a proper season and she is now practically on the shelf.”

Emily’s face was on fire after that statement. “Your Grace, you know the reason as well as I.”  Emily wished the duchess would talk of something else.

“Posh.” Her Grace dismissed her and returned her attention to Taylor.  “Emily believes that since her father was only a mere professor, she is unworthy of the ton.  Tell me, do you really see that as a problem?”

Taylor looked at Emily. “No. I believe you are mistaken, Emily.”

“Please, can we discuss something else?”

Phoebe turned the topic of discussion much to Emily’s relief. “Yes, why don’t we make plans?”

“Plans?”  Emily asked

“Yes.”  Phoebe brightened.  “Are you free for dinner tomorrow evening?  I thought you would like to become reacquainted with some of your father’s other students.”

“Lord Sandlin’s friends?”  She would love to see them all again, but would they treat her as Taylor just had?

“Of course.  I know they would love to see you again.   You have changed since they last saw you,” Taylor encouraged.

“I’m not sure I have changed that much.”

“Forgive me, Emily, but you have changed very much.  We last saw you as a young girl and now here you are, a lovely young woman.”

Emily turned to Her Grace for guidance.  “Yes, go, dear. Claresta and I are going to stay in tomorrow evening, but that isn’t any reason why you shouldn’t go and enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll call for you at seven,” Taylor insisted.

“I can take His Grace’s carriage.”  Emily knew she would not be able to avoid the dinner.

“A lady shouldn’t travel alone, especially at night,” Her Grace reminded her.

“Very well.  I’ll look forward to seeing everyone again,” Emily stated graciously, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.  She hadn’t seen any of them since she was fifteen, except Noah.  What if Taylor was wrong about them wanting to meet her again?

* * *

Why didn’t he just call on her?  Dillon argued with himself.  He knew where she lived, but how would he explain their knowing one another?  If Emily had been afraid to tell her aunt and uncle of their association, he was certain she hadn’t mentioned it to the duke.  A gentleman doesn’t just call on a lady without a proper introduction first.

Each day he was becoming more and more frustrated.  If he didn’t see her soon, he would arrange an introduction to Lady Claresta.  At least that would get him in the door.  Besides, his mother would be overjoyed if she believed he was interested in the duke’s daughter.  Dillon had no intention of allowing the young lady to believe it however, and he would have to be careful in his approach.

Unfortunately, that approach would have to wait for another evening.  His servants had learned that the duke’s household was to remain in this evening.  Why they could never learn if Emily would be accompanying them he hadn’t been able to ascertain.  At least they had been able to find out where and when the Duchess of Ellings and her daughter would be present, saving him much time.  Unfortunately, he had missed the musicale the evening before, much to his irritation.  Not that he enjoyed that type of entertainment forced on the ton by eager parents each season, he hated missing any opportunity he could have to finally see Emily, if she ever decided to come out of hiding.

Another reason he would have had to forgo looking for Emily this evening was because of an invitation, not to be ignored, from Phoebe.  Taylor had given each of them the sealed envelope stating, in a telling manner, that they would be attending Phoebe’s impromptu dinner.  There was to be a guest.  A lady everyone was familiar with but had not seen in sometime.  None of them could begin to guess who Phoebe’s mysterious guest was and reluctantly agreed to join them that evening.  Not that any of them really had a choice in the matter.

Had the Ellings family made plans for the evening, Dillon would have probably missed Phoebe’s dinner and suffered her anger later.  At least he now had something to do instead of sitting around, thinking about Emily.

His decision was made as he dressed for the evening.  He was also running an hour behind.  If Emily didn’t show the following evening then he would begin a friendship with Lady Claresta and find out where it led.

* * *

Emily was a bundle of nerves by the time the carriage called for her.  Her Grace had continually reassured her and helped her pick the perfect dress.

In the carriage Emily tried to calm herself.  It wasn’t nerves over seeing the gentlemen; it was being a guest in Lady Sandlin’s home.  Though she had been with His Grace for years, this was the first time she had been invited to dine with aristocrats without her guardian.  Hopefully she wouldn’t shame them.

The carriage stopped before a grand house, and Phoebe met her in the foyer before ushering her into the parlor immediately upon her arrival.  Three gentlemen she hadn’t seen in years were present, along with two women.  Emily couldn’t keep the smile off of her face as she was greeted by Lord Meadows, known as Martin, Lord Lavins, known as Richard, Mr. Parker, known to her as Marius.  The two ladies were Lady Meadows and Mrs. Parker.

“Phoebe wouldn’t tell us who the mysterious guest was and I must say, I had never thought to see you again, Emily.  How have you been?”  Martin asked.

“I have been well, Lord Meadows.”

“No lord, Emily.  Remember, your father forbade titles within his home.”

“We are no longer in my father’s home,” she reminded him.

“You’ve called me Martin since our first meeting and I insist you continue to do so.”  The others nodded their head in agreement.  Her father had wiped away social status at the doorstep, intending to teach young men, not titles or one-day titles, because they needed to learn to be men before they were anything else.

“I had to tell my brother who our guest was or he refused to come to dinner.” Phoebe turned to Emily. “He was afraid I was playing matchmaker.”  Emily had no idea who Phoebe’s brother was and didn’t want to insult her by asking.

“Where are the other two, Phoebe?”  Marius asked.  “I was under the impression this was a dinner we were not allowed to miss.”

“They will be along. My brother will be late, due to a meeting.”

“And Dillon?”  Richard asked.

“Dillon?”  Emily asked, immediately thinking of her Dillon. But it couldn’t be. It must be some strange coincidence.

“Actually, I don’t believe you ever met him.  Your father would have probably called him Chadwick.  His family name is Chambers,” Richard explained.

A sick feeling developed in the pit of Emily’s stomach.  It couldn’t be.

“He wasn’t allowed to visit your father,” Taylor reminded her. “His parents thought it beneath him.”

“Yes, I remember now.”  She had completely forgotten about the young man her father would meet in the library.  The one who couldn’t lower himself to come to the house.  “I was surprised my father kept tutoring him.”

Marius and Taylor looked at each other uncomfortably.  Emily’s cool tone was evidence of her opinion.  “You shouldn’t be too hard on him.  He wasn’t given a choice by either of his parents.  Your father understood this.”

Emily sighed.  He had understood. He once said the young man had enough battles to fight and he would not add to them.

“Dillon admired and respected your father very much, Emily.  I know he will be honored to meet you.  I ask that you give him a chance,” Taylor said hopefully.

Emily smiled over at Taylor.  “He was one of my father’s chosen few.  Of course I will meet him.”  Please, don’t let it be the Dillon she knew.  What were the chances of Chadwick Chambers hiring a man named Dillon when that was the name he also went by?  Emily’s stomach tightened further.

“One of those battles came to force this season,” Phoebe laughed.

“How so?”  Emily hoped for some information that would dispel her fear.

“His mother is after him to marry.  Not just anyone mind you, but a lady from a titled family,” Sabrina explained.

“Why?  I thought all of you had a title?”

“Dillon won’t.  His uncle twice removed is a viscount, which his mother believes amounts to nothing.  They are extremely wealthy of course, but no titles and his mother would rectify that this season.  She has gone so far as to obtain a promise that if Dillon does not find a worthy bride, she will do so for him.  She refuses to face another season without higher connections,” Taylor explained.

“I understand he finally promised to marry this season just so he could escape their presence and live in his cottage,” Marius chuckled.

The tension in her stomach didn’t lessen.  If the two were the same then her dream had just been shattered.   She was about as far away from a title as anyone could be.  His mother would never approve of her, nor would he.  Had he simply been playing with her as some cruel jest as he waited for the season to begin?

“Emily, is something wrong?”  Phoebe brought Emily out of her thoughts.

“Excuse me, no,” Emily answered a bit embarrassed that she had ignored her hosts.

“You just seem a little pale.  Are you sure nothing is amiss?”

Emily smiled at her, though it was forced.  “No, I’m fine, really.  Perhaps a little overwhelmed with this reunion.”

The nurse entered a moment later to advise Phoebe that the twins were being put to bed.  Phoebe stood. “I insist on saying goodnight whenever possible,” she explained to Emily.  “Would you like to meet Taylor’s children?”

Emily stood instantly, thankful to have something to take her mind off the waiting for Chadwick Chambers.  “I would be delighted.”

Chapter 5

Dillon arrived later then was fashionably acceptable and hoped Phoebe would understand.  He knew Taylor wouldn’t really care one way or the other, unless Phoebe happened to be upset, of course.  When he was finally announced, Dillon quickly took in the room.  All his friends were here except Noah, Phoebe and the surprise guest.  “So sorry I’m late but I have had the devil of a day.”

“Running from matchmaking mamas?”  Taylor handed Dillon a glass of wine.

“That, among other things.”  He turned to take in the room again.  “So, who is this young lady I am to reacquaint myself with?”

Marius stood.  “Actually, we realized tonight that you are the only one who hasn’t ever met her.”

“Does that mean I can leave?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

“No,” Martin answered. “Besides, I think you’d like to meet this particular young lady.”

The smile fell from Dillon’s face as he turned to his friend.  “Am I safe nowhere?”

The others laughed.  “No.  We are not matchmaking,” Janine assured him.

“Besides, she doesn’t fit your mother’s criteria,” Taylor offered.

“Then who is she?”  Dillon asked.

“Our favorite professor’s daughter,” Richard answered.  “You remember, Professor Frasier.”

“Yes, of course.  I’d forgotten he had a daughter.”

“Well, Emily has recently arrived in London and I ran into her at the Aldridge musicale last evening.  Of course, Phoebe wanted her to see everyone again,” Taylor explained.

Dillon heard very little after the name Emily.  No, it couldn’t be, but his gut told him otherwise.  Professor Frasier was a scholar if nothing else, just as Emily’s father had been.  He’d also died eight years ago.  Dillon had attended the funeral.  His daughter had been heavily veiled and waited in the carriage as ladies weren’t allowed at burials. He hadn’t been able to see her face. She had also been sitting in the Ellings’ carriage.

Why had he not made the connection earlier?  Now what was he to do?  Maybe nothing.  Maybe it was some odd coincidence, but he was terribly afraid it wasn’t.

“Dillon, I’m so glad you finally arrived,” Phoebe said in a somewhat scolding tone as she entered the room.

“I apologize for my tardiness, Phoebe.  Please forgive me.”

“Of course.  Now, I would like you to meet my guest.  I understand that you have not met before, but I am sure the others have filled you in during my absence.”

“Yes, they have, and I am anxious to meet Professor Frasier’s daughter.”  His voice sounded apprehensive even to his own ears.  He hadn’t intended for his fearful thoughts to be revealed and prayed no one noticed.

He had been waiting for her and looking at every function.  To think he had almost excused himself from this evening so that he could continue to search.  Why hadn’t he made the connection before?  So much of what she had said during their discussions had indicated who her father was, yet it had never occurred to him that she wasn’t titled.

Phoebe stepped to the side and turned, revealing Emily. Their eyes locked, searching.  A thousand words were said but neither uttered a sound.

“I now realize the necessity of a proper introduction.”

What was she saying?  Did she think he could dismiss her that easily?  Then again, shouldn’t he?  His parents would never approve.  Perhaps he should follow her lead and put the matter behind them.

“Regardless, those were some of the most enjoyable days I have spent in a very long while.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed.  “It’s not necessary to be polite.  I should have been more clear as to who my father was.”

“I, too, should have been honest about myself then we could have avoided this uncomfortable encounter.”  He paused and looked at her.  She had become cold.  So much like the others.  “I am sorry.”

* * *

He had intentionally withheld who he was.  Had he known all along?  Of course he did.  She told him she wasn’t a titled lady and he let her believe he was nothing but a common laborer.  The pain of the deception hurt, but now was not the time to let it show, wondering if those weeks had just been an entertaining diversion for him.

Despite their enjoyable afternoons, she was now easily dismissed because she wasn’t good enough for him.  He had just delivered her a polite cut as he had probably done dozens of times before.  She had thought better of him.  Now she knew he was no different from any gentleman of the ton.  To think she had given her heart, and almost more.  How he must have laughed at her.  Well, at least now she could set aside the notion of returning to her relatives and see to securing another position.

“So am I.”

Just as she was to think of a polite reason to leave, another voice came from the foyer.

“Finally.”  Phoebe turned toward the door.

Emily looked at her questioning.  “My brother, who gets later as he gets older.”

Who was Phoebe’s brother?  Emily hadn’t asked who would be in attendance, though now she wished she would have so she could have avoided the evening.  She wasn’t exactly humiliated, but she certainly didn’t enjoy having her dreams crushed in Lady Sandlin’s drawing room.

“Where is Emily?”  Noah entered the room.  “She is the only reason I’m here because I see the rest of you enough as it is.  Too much actually.”

Emily recognized the voice.  Noah.  Nobody had told her that Noah was Phoebe’s brother.  He was the one she had known the best.  She turned to face him and he stopped dead in his tracks and looked her up and down with admiration before he began to approach again.

“My goodness you are lovelier than ever.”  He pulled her into a hug that shocked the entire room, except Emily.

“It is good to see you again.”  She pulled away.

Holding both of her hands in his, he looked at her as he would Phoebe or any of his sisters.  “I should have visited more often.”

Emily returned an adoring smile. “It isn’t as though you had a reason, now that my father is gone.”

He scowled at her.  “Rubbish.  I was always coming to see you.  I distinctly remember telling you that.”

Emily threw her head back and laughed, remembering all the times he had said how much more peaceful her house was to his.  “You just liked the peace of only one about.”

“What does she mean by only one about?”  Phoebe slid her brother a look.

Emily felt like cold water had just been thrown over her, recalling how disrespectful she had just been to Lady Sandlin, and tried to remember which sister this was.  She had heard so much of his young siblings growing up, though she couldn’t place the description with the names.

“One sister.” Noah smiled back at his sister in a superior way.  “Professor Frasier’s home was like a haven with only him and Emily, who is only a year older then you, dear Phoebe, and she didn’t pester me nearly as much.”

“Oh, Noah, please.” Emily was growing mortified at how the evening was turning out.

“Oh, think nothing of it, Emily.  I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection until my brother came in the room.  Now, I distinctly remember him leaving our house to return to school and Professor Frasier, where life was much more peaceful and daughters knew how to behave.”

Emily gasped and quickly covered her mouth, though Phoebe and Noah were laughing.

“Oh dear, I had no idea.”  What was she to do now?

“You shouldn’t be upset, Emily.  I am well aware of how my brother felt about all of us.”  Laughing, Phoebe leaned closer.  “There were times when I wanted him to just go live with you.”

“She thought I was going to, I am afraid.”  Noah chuckled.  “I distinctly remember Emily asking if I was going to move in because I was visiting so often.”

“Oh, dear.  I wasn’t exactly one to guard my words, was I?” Emily tried to overcome her embarrassment but failed miserably.

* * *

Dillon watched the display of affection and intimate jokes between the two and a rage of jealousy rose within him.  If she were so special, why hadn’t Noah said anything before?  Obviously, he hadn’t seen her in years, though the affection was still strong.  Noah wouldn’t be afraid to pursue her because she lacked a title.

Dinner was announced almost immediately and Noah offered his arm to Emily, who took it, smiling.  Dillon trailed after the gathering, glowering.  He had to remind himself that Noah thought of Emily as another sister.  How could he have forgotten about the professor’s daughter?  They had all met her, shared meals at her home and spoke highly of her maturity and intelligence for being a young girl.  All except him.  All of them adored her in their own way.  He just needed to come to terms with how he was feeling and deal with this mess.  Silently he cursed his parents for the promises they had induced from him, and the power his mother held to see that he do her bidding.

Once they were seated and the first course set before them, Phoebe asked the question that had been on everyone else’s mind.  “So Emily, tell us.  How did you and Dillon meet?”

Noah turned to Emily and then Dillon.  “I didn’t know you were acquainted.”

“We met this spring while I was visiting my aunt and uncle.”

A light seemed to dawn in Noah’s eyes.  “Oh, yes.  I had forgotten that the Chambers’ family estate is close to your aunt and uncle.”

Noah turned his eyes back to Dillon as if really noticing him for the first time, a questioning brow rose.  “I thought you avoided socializing when out of London, preferring to rusticate in your cottage.  How did you and Emily meet?”

Emily and Dillon glanced at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to answer.

Dillon said nothing.  He was going to let Emily answer and he would follow.  After all, it was her reputation on the line.

“We were caught in the same storm,” Emily finally offered.  “I had taken refuge in a barn. Mr. Chambers arrived shortly after me.”  There that should put their mind at rest and hopefully change the topic.

“Not the barn with the cottage?”  Noah asked.  “Is that thing still standing?”

“The very one.  Though how it survived the storm is beyond me.  We were getting just as drenched standing inside as we were outside.”  Dillon smiled at Emily. “Actually,” he continued, “I convinced her to come into the cottage to wait it out.  Finally, she agreed.  It was much nicer by the fire drinking tea then standing in the unstable barn.”

“Yes,” Emily stated through clinched teeth.  “As I recall, you insisted because of your reputation.  Does mine mean so little?”

A stillness grew around the table.

Noah sat down his wine glass and looked over at Dillon. The man was a friend, a very good friend.  However, Emily had apparently been almost like a sister to him.  “Exactly what reputation would that be?”

Dillon didn’t miss Noah’s threat, but wasn’t overly concerned.  If his friends saw Emily ruined then of course, he would marry her, regardless of his parents’ feelings or threats.  Ruining a duke’s ward would destroy his mother’s plan worse than marrying a professors’ daughter.  It was her revenge that worried him. “If I was going to be accused of ruining a young lady, I preferred people didn’t think me so low as to ruin her in a barn.”  Though he attempted to be humorous, the tension still hung in the room.  He let the smile fall from his lips.  “We were left with no choice and I assure you that I was a perfect gentleman.  Until this evening, nobody ever knew of the incident for the very reason of how it could affect Emily.”

Noah turned to Emily, questioning her with his eyes.

“He was a complete gentleman.”

“Tell me about the cottage, Emily,” Janine said.  “Dillon has never allowed us to visit.  I believe only Noah and Marius have been there.  They were fishing if I recall correctly.”

Emily grimaced.

Dillon had been watching her over his glass, and took a drink to hide his knowing smile.  He hadn’t been fishing in that lake since he had taken Emily there.  He wondered if he would ever be able to fish there again without recalling her reaction to the sport.

“It is a charming place, I suppose.”

Dillon quirked an eyebrow.  “Charming, I suppose?  If I recall correctly, you said you loved it and thought it the perfect place to live.”  Perhaps he shouldn’t have said the last part.  All eyes turned to look at him.  Was he trying to force them to make him do what he really wished to do?  “You had every intention of trying to purchase it from me.”

“I have had a change of heart.  I find the cottage will not do for me after all.  In fact, I don’t believe I will return to that area except to visit my aunt and uncle on occasion.”

Change of heart?  Of course, she had.  Dillon reminded himself.  He wasn’t about to admit defeat so easily, however.  “I thought you had plans on returning, after the season.”  He was asking much more than the others heard.

Emily’s eyes met his across the table.  “There is no reason to return,” she stated simply and picked up her fork.

Thankfully dinner came to an end soon and the ladies adjourned to the drawing room while the gentlemen remained behind.  Dillon had anticipated further questions when the door closed behind the ladies but none came, thankfully.  Instead, his friends continued to reminisce about their days at school and their visits with Professor Frasier and his daughter.  He felt cheated by his parents when he had been denied visits with his favorite professor. Now he felt doubly cheated.  As they stood, Marius asked a simple question, directed toward Noah.

“How old is Emily?”

It was Dillon who answered.  “She is three and twenty.”

Nobody made a response but a few looks were exchanged.  “Why isn’t she married?  She’s certainly pretty enough to draw a good deal of attention.”  Marius directed his question to Noah once again.

Dillon wanted to know the answer as well.  Was there something else she hadn’t shared with him?  “Since she was eighteen Ellings has wanted to give her a season but she refuses.  She doesn’t feel it’s his place.  She didn’t want to waste his money when she felt there would be no offers,” Noah explained.

It was just as she had told him.  It seems she had been more truthful about herself then he had been.

“Still,” Noah continued.  “I think we should encourage her to fully enjoy the season as a young, unattached lady should. I have no doubt there is someone worthy who would be willing to overlook her background and lack of funds.”

Dillon wasn’t sure if that last comment had been directed at him or not.  Was he that transparent in his feelings or simply just paranoid?  Probably both he decided as he followed the others to the drawing room.

* * *

Emily settled in her seat and accepted a cup of tea from Phoebe.  She made it clear to Dillon that the spring was behind them and any possible future impossible.  She hoped she gave the appearance of nothing but politeness to his question while her heart shredded in her chest.  Could she manage to get through the rest of the evening without crying or showing her despair?  She had to.  Nobody would ever know how much she had just lost and how it was killing her.

Just as the gentlemen were entering the room, Janine broached the subject once again, much to Emily’s surprise.  “Tell us all about Dillon’s cottage?”  She leaned forward in anticipation.

Emily was confused why there was such an interest in the place.

“The reason we are curious,” Phoebe began. “Dillon is afraid his future wife won’t appreciate the place and prefer to reside in the country home of his parents instead.”

Emily sat up straighter.  “How could anyone choose to live any other place?”  The words were out of her mouth before she could bring them back.  Panicked, she looked away from the women and accidently right into Dillon’s eyes.  He was looking at her with the same warmth they had held in the country, before he knew who she really was.  It was most disconcerting.  Breaking contact, she quickly took another sip, wishing for something stronger than tea.

“See, you have nothing to worry about, Dillon.  Your future wife will love it,” Janine insisted as if his problems had been solved.

“Yes, but...,” Dillon trailed off.

Emily suspected what he was about to say, and realized his words could have been taken as an insult, and chose not to continue. “I believe Mr. Chambers is concerned that a lady of quality, one he is meant marry, would wish for a grand home. Whereas I, being from a more common background can appreciate the home for its simplicity.”

“Oh, I don’t think he intended to live there permanently, did you, Dillon?”  Phoebe asked.

“I believe he was planning to use the place to be alone with his new wife for a few weeks only, as soon as they were married.” Janine watched Emily.  “Wasn’t that right, Dillon?”

“Yes,” he ground out.

Emily refused to make eye contact with anyone and busied herself straightening her skirts.  She didn’t want to think about Dillon, alone with a young, beautiful, titled wife in that cottage.  She wanted the cottage for herself and now knew it would be impossible to approach the owner and ask a price.  That owner clearly loved his cottage and would no sooner sell it to her then he would marry her so she could live here.  In just the span of a few hours, all her simple dreams of late had vanished and she wondered how she would ever get through the evening with a smile.

* * *

“A game of billiards?” Taylor asked as he stood.  Dillon would have liked to have stayed behind, but couldn’t think of a plausible excuse to do so.  Instead of following his friends, he excused himself for a moment and escaped outside.  He needed fresh air to clear his mind.

He wandered through the garden, realizing that he had just brought further attention to his escape since he caught Noah looking out the window at him.  Dillon didn’t care at the moment.  He needed time to gather his thoughts before seeing her again.  He should have known she was too good to be true.  A companion.  No wonder she acted the lady so well.  She had said she was a companion, but he hadn’t believed her.  Ellings was her guardian, it didn’t make sense.

It was idiotic to feel so disappointed. He barely knew her.  Yet, he felt more for Emily than he’d ever felt for any woman, except one, and probably ever would.  In just those few short weeks, before they had society positions attached to them, they had talked and laughed freely, not to mention those very passionate kisses and caresses.  Nothing had felt as good as Emily and he’d hoped to marry her.

Who was he kidding?  He would never find a lady his parents approved of who would also enjoy the quiet solitude of the cottage as he did.  Perhaps he should just give the damn place to Emily.  At least she would love it and appreciate it.  Maybe he could even visit her there?  No, not a good idea.  He would not demean her in that way.  She may not be of his parents standards, but she was certainly a lady.  An innocent one and the daughter of a man he deeply respected.

Good Lord, what was he going to do?  How could he forget her and start seriously paying attention to what else was being offered this season?

Slowly the ladies voices came to him through the open doors.  He was in the shadows and they couldn’t see him.  He really shouldn’t stay and listen, yet he often wondered what women discussed when they alone.  Besides, Emily was in there.

“I met Lady Claresta.  I wouldn’t be surprised if there aren’t offers very soon,” Janine observed.

“I expect much of the same.  She is such a sweet, lovely girl.”  Emily sighed.

“What are your plans this season, Emily?  Her Grace indicted that she would like you to move about in society.”

“I hope to find a position as a governess or teacher once Lady Claresta marries.”

“What of marriage for yourself?”  Janine asked.

“I won’t be marrying.”  Emily gave a short laugh.

Why wouldn’t she marry?  She is beautiful.

“I am sure you will meet a number of eligible gentlemen this season,” Phoebe argued.

“Actually, no, I won’t.”  Emily corrected. “Perhaps you don’t understand my position.” Emily tried to be as delicate as possible.  “I appreciate being invited into your home, Lady Sandlin and I truly enjoyed seeing some of my father’s former students.”

“But?” Phoebe prompted.

“There is a very clear line between our worlds,” Emily explained.

Phoebe opened her mouth to argue, but Emily held her hand up to silence her.

“As a companion,” Emily began to explain more clearly, only to be interrupted by Sabrina.

“You are the ward of the Duke of Ellings.”

“Yet far below him in status,” Emily reminded them.  “It puts me in a peculiar place.”

“How so?” Sabrina edged forward.

“Often I may take dinner with those invited into the duke’s home for one reason or another.  Other times, I remain in my room.  I believe my duties are to Lady Claresta. Even though I have never been treated as one, I am more qualified to be a servant in the household than anything else.”

Dillon continued to listen intently.

“The maids, butlers, cooks and all the others won’t socialize with me because I am the ward of His Grace.  On the other hand, the only other people within the household are the duke and his family, or any guests who may be invited.  Unless specifically asked, I don’t mix with them, though Claresta will insist we are friends.  So you see it makes it rather difficult to locate a husband.”  She tried to make the situation sound lighter then it was.

Dillon was beginning to see her in a totally new way.  She had not intentionally misled him.  She had misled a man who fixed roofs, with whom she felt equal, and attracted and had been afraid to reveal her position because a laborer was beneath her.  Much as he had been afraid to reveal his own, not wanting her to see only his wealth.  They had their own selfish reasons for being dishonest and he couldn’t fault her. She must be very lonely.

“Do you have to find work as a governess?  Couldn’t you remain with Ellings or live with your aunt and uncle?” Phoebe asked in all innocence.

Dillon recognized her tone. Phoebe was prompting Emily for deeper information.  Leave it to Phoebe to see through anything.

“No.  I have no wish to be a burden.”

The voices of the gentlemen intruded before Phoebe could press for further details.  Dillon quickly made his way to another set of open doors so he could enter the drawing room from the foyer like the others.

Once conservation over tea began, Dillon tried to find a way to speak with Emily directly, preferably alone.  When he looked at her, she pointedly turned away.  He refused to let matters be. They had to talk, though he didn’t know what he would say.  She refused to give him the opportunity, and it angered him that she could be so attentive to his friends but barely acknowledge his presence.  Especially after all they had shared.  Yes, the others had a history with Emily, but Dillon shared a history with her as well.  A history he would never forget.  Somehow he had to get her to himself.  At the moment, it was impossible and every one of his friends seemed to support Emily in her desire to avoid him or so it seemed.  Well, she had to leave sometime and he would be the one to escort her home.

* * *

As much a she enjoyed reacquainting herself with her father’s former students, the evening was beginning to wear on Emily.  If she’d been able to remain ignorant to Dillon’s true identity, this would have been the most enjoyable evening since coming to London.  Oh, she tried to ignore him, but it was too difficult with him so near, watching her.  No doubt he wished to speak with her alone, but she was not ready for that conversation.   She still didn’t know if he had been toying with her in the country or if he had actually felt some affection for her.  Either way, it didn’t matter.  So, why had he continued as he did?  Emily didn’t want to know that answer at the moment.  Her anger and humiliation were enough without his adding any explanation.

Finally, the party began to break up and Dillon stepped forward. “I’ll be happy to escort you home.”  He offered his arm with a smile.

The last place Emily should be with Dillon right now was in a closed carriage.

“Thank you, but Noah has already promised to see me home,” she lied, hoping Noah would come to her rescue.

If Dillon was surprised, he hid it well.

“Would you like to talk?”  Noah asked once the carriage was set in motion.

Emily wished she could ignore him but knew it was impossible.  She also didn’t pretend not to know what he was referring to.  Slowly she turned toward him.  “It is better forgotten.”

“What is better forgotten?”  Noah persisted.

“If I tell you, will you promise that it remains between you and me?” Emily asked.  She had believed her time alone with Dillon were her own secret memories.  They had carried her through the past weeks.  That, and dreams of returning in July, hoping they had a real future.  Now that her dream was shattered, she did need to talk to someone.

“I promise.”  He took her hand in his.

“You must also promise to take no action on my behalf.”

Noah turned suddenly in his seat to look at her.  “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing you just imagined,” Emily assured him.  “If I tell you of the time I spent with Chambers, you must swear that you will do nothing.”  Emily refused to breathe a word until she had his promise.

“I’ll try,” he answered after a few moments.

“That is the answer I would expect from Marius and won’t accept it from you either, Noah.  Promise me.”

Noah sighed in defeat. “Very well.  I will not challenge Dillon or force his hand.”

Emily relaxed. The relief of being able to tell someone was almost overwhelming.  “Thank you.”  Slowly she began telling Noah of her fist meeting and progressed, describing their visits.  Of course she did not tell Noah of the kissing.  She was afraid she would truly break down and cry if she did.  “I thought he was an employee of Chambers, not Chambers himself.”

“Did he seduce you?” Noah asked quietly.

“No.  Though had that been his intention, I doubt I could have found the will to deny him.”

“You’re in love with him.”

Her tears began to flow. “Which shows how much of a fool I am.”

Noah pulled her close and handed her his handkerchief, stroking her back as she sobbed.  When she finally calmed, she pulled away.  “I’m sorry.  Foolishly I had hoped for a future with a laborer named Dillon.  It is impossible now.”

“Why?”

“You know as well as I do what is expected of Chambers. His parents would never approve of me.”  Straightening her skirt she looked back out the window.  “Besides, it is better I learned now and let go of my silly hopes.”

Noah reached over and took her hand again. “Are you so sure they are silly hopes?”

“How can they not be?”  She returned, her voice rising with anger.  “Can you be so sure this wasn’t all a game to him?  He has always known what was expected of him.  I was very clear about my own background, though he didn’t have my last name.  He withheld so much more and led me to believe a future was waiting for us after the season when all the time knowing any such thing was impossible.”

“I’ve known Dillon a good portion of my life and I don’t think he would have made promises, or even hinted at future meetings if he didn’t believe it was possible at the time. He wouldn’t have played that kind of game with you, Emily.”

Though his words were meant to offer comfort, they did very little in patching the tear in her heart.

* * *

Emily wasn’t prepared to face her guardians but knew she must.  Hiding her emotions, she joined them in the salon.

“How was your evening?”  His Grace asked.

“It was pleasant.”  Emily wanted to escape to her room.

“Have you been crying, dear?”  The duchess came forward with a look of concern.

Unwanted tears formed in her eyes again.  “This evening brought back a number of memories.”

His Grace smiled softly. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yes, I’m sure.  If you’ll excuse me.”  She turned and rushed from the room.  What had Dillon brought her to?  She had met him secretly behind her aunt and uncle’s back and now she misled to her guardian.  Dillon was a bad influence she must dismiss from her life.  That was exactly what she would do tomorrow.  Tonight was hers, she decided as she crawled into her bed and let the tears flow.  Tonight she would mourn her loss and tomorrow she would move forward and forget him.

Chapter 6

Dillon knew it was too much to hope that Noah would deliver Emily to her home and go on to his own.  Apparently he was right because he looked up to find Noah lounging against the door jam of Dillon’s library, his face unreadable.

“It is my intention to get bloody drunk.  You are welcome to join me.”  Had Emily told him anything? Or everything?

Noah stalked into the room.  “Thank you.  I could use a drink myself.”  Noah helped himself to the Scotch Whisky.

“What were you thinking?” Noah finally asked, after he sat down.

“What did she tell you?” Dillon countered.  He wasn’t near drunk enough to share all the glorious details of his relationship with Emily.

“A good deal but I suspect she left out some aspects of your relationship to keep me from issuing a challenge.”

A bitter smile came to Dillon’s lips.  “I always told Emily I admired her intelligence.”

Noah’s arm shot out and his fist connected with Dillon’s jaw.  Dillon’s only reaction was to absently rub across the injury with his cool glass.  “Thank you.”  Strangely, he felt better for what had just transpired.

“Now, would you tell me why you led her on?”  Noah sat back in his chair.  “I never thought you could be so cruel.”

Dillon groaned and let his head fall back.  “I didn’t think I was leading her on.  I knew who her guardian was.  I was also led to believe that her mother married some sort of nobleman, or at least that is what a servant told me.  I honestly thought all would work out for the best once we were both here and unmasked.”

“Regardless of your intentions, Emily is hurting.”

“And do you think she is alone in that?” Dillon yelled.

“What do you plan to do?”

Dillon stood and began pacing, not bothering to hide his agitation.  “What the hell can I do?  If I pursue her, as I wish, my parents will give me no end of grief, not to mention the financial damage they could do.  They have the power to ruin much more than anyone can comprehend.  If I follow their wishes, I’ll end up married to a poor replacement for my emotions.”

“So, exactly what is the relationship between you and Emily?” Marius asked from the doorway.

Noah barely acknowledged him.  Dillon’s anger surfaced.  It was bad enough he had to figure out how he could get around his parents and the hold they had on him and still have Emily.  He didn’t need to deal with his two friends who had now taken on the position of Emily’s protectors.  In a rage, he threw his glass, shattering it against the fireplace.  “I would like you both to leave.”

Noah stood.  “I have one request.”

Dillon only looked at him, hands fisted. Maybe he needed a bloody fight. Noah already threw the first punch.

“Stay away from her unless you’re willing to offer more.”

“You ask too much.”

“It’s for her sake.”  Noah left the room but Marius remained behind. Dillon should have known his best friend of fifteen years wouldn’t simply leave and go about his own business.

Marius didn’t wait for the offer but poured himself a glass of whisky.  He looked Dillon in the eye once he settled in a leather chair. “So, what do you intend to do?”

Dillon sank into the chair across from him. He let his head fall back against the seat.  “I don’t know.”

“Does she know about your past, your former. . . “

Dillon’s head shot up. “No. I didn’t tell her.”

“Maybe an explanation is in order then.”

He shook his head.  “In time, but not now.  I don’t want to do anything that may push her further away.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Marius spoke. “Your parents won’t accept her.”  Then he lifted the glass and drank deeply.

“I know. But, I can’t risk going against them right now. You’re the only one who knows what would happen if I did.”

Marius slowly nodded his head. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“I know, and I thank you.”

Marius drained the glass and set it on the table. “You fell in love with Emily, didn’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”  Dillon stood to pace again.  Marius was the only person who knew everything about his past.  Things his parents would like to deny, or pretend didn’t exist.  Normally he would never admit to anything, but Marius held all of his secrets and Dillon trusted him more than anyone else he knew.

“I’ve only seen you this way with one other lady.”

A sad smile pulled at Dillon’s lips at the remembrance of Rose.  Had she lived, he wouldn’t be in this position now.  Until Emily, she was the only other woman he had ever loved. What would his future have been had she lived?  Would his parents still have the same control or would they have eventually destroyed her as they tried on several occasions?  He may have been young and foolish then, but the feelings he had for Rose and what he felt for Emily were much the same.

Marius stood. “I will think on what can be done and if there is any way around your parents.”

“Thank you.”

Dillon watched as his friend left the room and listened for the door to close before he sank once again into his chair.  Lifting the decanter, he drank directly from it.  The quicker the contents were gone, the quicker this pain would subside.

* * *

Dillon woke to the pounding in his head.  Though the whisky hadn’t numbed his emotional state the night before, it had no difficulty in making him miserable this morning.  It didn’t seem fair that he should be punished without reaching his original goal.  A strong cup of coffee would be a good start in alleviating his current physical pain, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to bother rising.  Still, he couldn’t lie in his bed for the rest of the day, week or month.  He had plans to make.  His goal was somewhat clear, but the how of achieving it was fuzzy and vague.  Before he could establish how he should go forward however, he needed to determine the truth about Emily’s feelings.

Professor Frasier’s daughter.  It still shocked him.  Damn his parents for their snobbery.  Had they allowed him to visit the man in his own home, then Emily would have never been a stranger could possibly have been a friend.  Then when they’d met in the barn, there would have been no secrets between them.  He could have called on her at her aunt’s home.  Their relationship could have continued as a platonic, respectful friendship.

Dillon sat up and threw his legs over the bed, trying his best to ignore the sharp pain at the base of his skull.  Who was he trying to fool?  Even if they had known everything about the other, he would have still crossed the line and kissed her.  He would have still wanted her.  Hell, he still wanted her and that was the crux of the matter.  He knew without a doubt, even as the ward of a duke, his parents would never approve.  It wasn’t so much that he cared for their opinion, but he had to please them.  They held the trump card that forced him to do their bidding.

Why, oh why had he capitulated?  Stupid question.  He knew the answer.

Without ringing for his valet, Dillon splashed cold water on his face and began to dress for the day, recalling the last bitter discussion he had with his parents and his future marriage.  If he didn’t marry someone they thought worthy, translated to the daughter of a peer, then he would be cut off.

He had few funds of his own at the moment.  Most of his quarterly allowance had been invested, what hadn’t been sent to Celia, and it would be some months before the profits were realized.  Until last year, he had a rather substantial amount set aside.  That disappeared when he purchased the cottage, surrounding acreage and the lake.  It was the only thing he owned that his parents couldn’t take away.  Even the townhouse he lived in belonged to them.  Until now it hadn’t mattered.  Who would have thought it possible that he would find the only lady to make his life complete outside the dozens available from titled families?

In truth, he wouldn’t always be destitute if he followed his heart. Eventually his father would pass away and Dillon knew the man wouldn’t completely disown him.  But that was years away and despite his current feelings, he didn’t wish for his father’s demise.  So where did that leave him?

He could put Emily from his mind and try to find a substitute amongst the more acceptable and never have a financial worry.  Or, he could go against his parent’s wishes and pursue Emily, if she’d have him.  If the relationship followed to the natural conclusion he envisioned at the cottage, he would have the marriage he dared hoped for, but with barely a sovereign to his name.  It didn’t matter that Emily had a sound plan for financially supporting herself.  If she were married to him, she couldn’t earn a wage.  How could he possibly allow that?

At least they would have a place to live, but what of the other essentials, like food, until his investments paid off?  Of course Ellings could possibly give her a decent marriage settlement, but using those funds for their everyday needs was almost as distasteful as Emily being employed.  He could always find a position for himself but seriously doubted anyone would hire him in the village.  A position in London would be much easier to obtain, but where would they live?  The cottage was hours away.  No, Emily deserved a home, servants and a life in society.  He wouldn’t be able to give her anything but the small cottage if they married.

Besides his financial future, there was more he needed to be concerned with.  What of Celia? His parents would destroy her if he didn’t do their bidding. That was his strongest incentive for forgetting Emily, though he didn’t know if that were possible.  In his heart, he knew it was impossible, but what to do about this maddening situation?

Frustrated at not finding any answers, he strode from the house and saddled his horse.  He couldn’t think here, with everything and everyone so close.

* * *

Emily faced the next day bravely.  Or at least she put on a brave face. Her heart might be crushed and her dreams cried away, but she was still alive.  She would continue on as companion to Claresta and let nothing upset the plans she had prior to meeting Dillon.  Most of all, she wouldn’t let anyone know how she was hurting.  So, with a pleasant, but forced smile on her face, Emily joined the others for breakfast.

When Noah called on her later that day, she did something she would have never thought possible.  She avoided being alone with him.  She knew Noah would want to know how she was faring, but Emily didn’t want to talk or think about Dillon.  It was the only way she knew how to survive so she would not think of or discuss him with anyone.  Additionally, she would avoid any outing where she might possibly see him.  As long as someone was with her, Noah would never broach the subject of Dillon, which was how Claresta ended up enjoying a lovely drive in the park with Emily and Noah that afternoon.

Emily prayed they wouldn’t run into Dillon, but couldn’t think of any excuse not to go for the fashionable drive.  The last person she ever expected to encounter however was Mrs. Chambers – his mother.  It was clear Noah would have avoided the woman, had it been possible short of a cut direct.  After a brief introduction, Claresta spied friends and asked to be excused.  Emily had no choice but to allow her to go, wishing she could run away as well.  Mrs. Chambers had all but dismissed Emily as unimportant upon learning she was only the ward to the Duke of Ellings, and daughter of a mere professor.

“Have you seen my son today?” she all but demanded of Noah.

“Actually, no.  I stopped by earlier but his butler said he had ridden out hours ago.  His destination undetermined.”

The woman pursed her lips together in irritation.  “And last night?”

“We dined with Lord and Lady Sandlin.  It was an early evening.”

“Then you don’t know that he drank himself into oblivion last night.”

Emily gasped.

The woman turned a cold stare on her before addressing Noah again.  “Do you know why he would do such a thing?”

Noah merely shrugged non-committedly.

“Well, all I can say is he’d better return soon.  The season grows shorter with each day and he hasn’t even begun to look for a wife.”

“I am sure he will do his duty.  He has indicated as much,” Noah assured the woman.

“Well, he can’t very well do that if he isn’t in London.  If he has gone off to that vulgar cottage of his, he had better return with a very good explanation.”

“I am sure he would only leave town on the most pressing, urgent business.”  Noah tried to calm and assure the angry woman.

“Nothing is more important than finding a bride.”

Shortly after the words left her mouth, Claresta returned and Noah helped her into the carriage.  Gone was the woman’s venomous look as she studied the young lady.

“Is this your first season Lady Claresta?”

Emily was shocked to hear such a sweet tone emerge from the nasty woman.

“Yes, it is.”

“I am sure you’ll be a raging success.  Just don’t settle on anyone too quickly.”

Claresta shot a quick glance at Emily, probably uncomfortable with the stranger’s advice.  “I won’t, ma’am.”

“Have you by chance had the opportunity to meet my son, Chadwick Chambers?”

Claresta politely shook her head.  “I have not had the honor.”

“Lord Felding, you must arrange an introduction,” she gleefully suggested.  “He decided to take a wife this season and I am positive he would want to make your acquaintance, Lady Claresta.”

The young woman blushed.  “Thank you.”

“Well, I must be off.  You two enjoy yourself,” she said, apparently forgetting there were three of them together.

The trio in the carriage sighed as she pulled away.  “I’ve heard of matchmaking mamas but I had thought they only had daughters.” Claresta observed as they pulled back into the traffic.

Chapter 7

He had a plan, or somewhat of a plan.  After three days of chopping wood at the cottage, Dillon knew how he would proceed.

An invitation was waiting upon his return with a note from his mother that she expected him to be present that afternoon.  Though a threat was in the tone, Dillon couldn’t image what she could do to him if he didn’t show, short of negotiating a betrothal without his approval.  Still, it was in his best interest to smooth her anger.  If he appeared to play along with her plans, then she would give him much needed freedom to pursue the woman of his choosing.  That was the first step in his plan and he hoped he could find a lady to assist him.

The gardens were crowded with people when Dillon arrived.  Thankfully some of his male friends were in attendance with their wives.  At least he wouldn’t be facing the wolves alone.  By the flurry of pastel, frilly gowns mixed among the flowers, Dillon determined this was for his benefit.  Mothers and daughters were everywhere, far outnumbering the single gentlemen present. Groaning, Dillon descended the steps after locating his mother.  She was currently holding court under a shade tree.  He would greet her, mingle for a very short time and take his leave.  He was in no mood for simpering young ladies and their mamas.

“There is my dear son now,” his mother announced cheerfully as he approached.  How she could see him through all the ribbons, hats and parasols he had no idea.

“Good afternoon, Mother.”  Dillon bowed in submission to her current demand of him.

“Chadwick, you are just in time to meet the most charming young lady,” his mother gushed and Dillon, through years of practice, held the pleasant smile on his lips and turned to the young woman in question.

“Lady Claresta.”  His mother gestured.  “Has made her debut this year.”

The smile on his lips became genuine.  Could the person he sought be so close already?  Bowing elegantly, he addressed the young woman, but his eyes searched the surrounding area.

“I believe you are already acquainted with Her Grace,” his mother continued.

Again, Dillon bowed eloquently and greeted the Duchess of Ellings.  But where was Emily? Was she still avoiding society?

“Chadwick dear, why don’t you escort Lady Claresta on a stroll through the gardens?  The lilacs just recently bloomed and are quite lovely.”

His mother had an even higher agenda then he realized.  A duke’s only daughter was a stretch for even her ambitions?

“Excuse me, Mrs. Chambers,” Her Grace interrupted. “I believe you have forgotten to introduce Ellings’ ward, though I don’t believe an introduction will be necessary, however.  Your son and Miss Frasier are already acquainted, I believe.”

His mother was clearly perplexed though trying to recover.  “Is that a fact?”  She turned to Dillon.

“Miss Frasier is the daughter of my favorite professor.  We recently became reacquainted at the Sandlin home the other evening.”

“How very sweet.” Her tone was so syrupy his teeth hurt.

“I do believe a stroll is an excellent idea, Mother.”  Dillon offered an arm to Claresta and the other to Emily.

Before Emily could balk, his mother let her thoughts be known. “You two go on.  I am sure Miss Frasier would rather stay here in the shade.”

“Nonsense.  I’m sure her parasol will offer the necessary protection,” Dillon insisted

“I couldn’t agree more,” Her Grace encouraged.  “Emily has kept herself indoors far too long.”

Though displeased, his mother offered no further argument, for which Dillon was grateful.  To appease her, he directed his comments to Claresta first, as they walked off.  He would have liked to speak to Emily alone but knew he wouldn’t be given the opportunity.  However, this new option gave him a chance to gauge her reaction in hopes of determining her feelings. It also afforded him the opportunity to become better acquainted with Lady Claresta and evaluate if she would be willing to help him achieve his current goals.

“Are you enjoying your first season in London, my lady?” he asked in the most charming manner.

“Oh yes, though I wish Emily would accompany us more often.”

Dillon intentionally ignored Emily.  “I’m sure your father has enough trouble keeping the gentlemen away from you with having to worry about Miss Frasier as well.”

“I’d have more fun if Emily were with me.” The young woman leaned forward and looked pointedly at her companion.  Emily glared back.

“Still, it cannot be easy for him.  There would be hordes of gentlemen courting you being who you are alone.  Since you are also blessed with both beauty and grace, half the ton must be littering your doorstep.”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“You flatter me,” Claresta appropriately responded.

“I speak only the truth.”

Emily disengaged her arm.  “Excuse me.  I believe I’ll sit by the fountain.”

Claresta started to protest.

“You two enjoy yourself, but don’t wander too far.  Her Grace expects me to keep a close eye on you.”

Dillon quirked an eyebrow and tried not laugh.  “Are you Lady Claresta’s chaperon then?”

“As well as occasional companion,” Emily answered frostily.  “A word of advice, Mr. Chambers.  Claresta has heard the same drivel from every gentleman seeking a wife. If you wish to find her favor, I would suggest you engage her mind.  If you don’t find that too difficult that is.” Emily turned on her heel and walked away, her back stiff and nose in the air.

Claresta stared after her in shock and Dillon couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Tell me,” Dillon began when they were far enough away.  “Is Emily really your chaperon and sometimes companion?”  He had yet to determine if Claresta would be his ally.

Claresta rolled her eyes in much the same manner as Emily had earlier.  “No, she is my father’s ward, though she did take it upon herself to increase my studies beyond what my former governesses believed sufficient.”

“That does not surprise me.”

“Emily is also my friend.  Almost a sister.”

Then Claresta was probably the one person who knew the most about Emily.  “I understand she came to your household when she was ten and five.”

“Yes, I was only ten at the time, but we grew close despite our difference in age.”

“And status,” Dillon prompted.

“Emily is not a servant and has never been one,” Claresta reminded him, her tone sharp, willing to defend Emily if he indicated she was beneath them.

“I meant no disrespect.”  He quickly assured her, glancing over to their topic of conversation.  Now he knew for certain how Claresta viewed his quarry.

Emily had been watching him and quickly turned her head when Dillon looked her way.

Dillon looked back to his companion and found her looking at him oddly.  Had his thoughts registered on his face?  He pulled Claresta further down the path, their backs were to Emily. “What are your thoughts on Greek literature, Lady Claresta?”

A grin burst on her face and she laughed.  “Now I know it is not I who should be walking with you, Mr. Chambers.”

He had no wish to offend the young lady so Dillon attempted an excuse.  “I know Miss Frasier enjoys such literature and assumed perhaps you did as well.”

“What I think is that if Emily hadn’t been with me, you would have found a reason to avoid this stroll.”

“You insult me,” Dillon stated with mock outrage.  “Of course I would have proceeded as my mother wished.”

“Oh, of that I don’t doubt.”  Claresta laughed.  “But, I noticed how you looked around me and my mother during the introductions, until you saw Emily.”

Dillon’s face heated with embarrassment, which was just as embarrassing in itself.  He never dreamed he would be so transparent.  “I truly meant no insult.”

“None taken, I assure you.”  She smiled up at him. “Why don’t you tell me who you are really interested in, why and how I may be of service?”

* * *

Emily tried to relax on the bench and let her mind wander but found it difficult with Dillon and Claresta engaged in such animated conversation.  At first their backs had been to her, but now she could see their profiles.  Dillon was charming Claresta, something that came naturally she supposed.  Claresta was laughing quite gaily and smiling up at him.  She would be happy that the two seemed to get on so well if it didn’t hurt so much.

They did make an attractive couple. His dark hair and eyes in contrast to Claresta’s blonde hair and light green eyes.  She was thin, elegant and a good few inches taller than Emily and he was strong and handsome.  Her heart squeezed tight. It hurt to look at them. It hurt to watch him look at Claresta.

What was he saying to her? Their conversation may be animated, but it was too quiet to hear.  Drat, why did he have to be interested in Claresta?  Of course it shouldn’t be a surprise.  Claresta was a beautiful heiress with the best connections this season. And, Claresta would probably love the cottage as much as she did.  It was just like the small house Claresta gravitated to when they visited the estate on the coast.  While everyone settled in the large mansion, Claresta preferred the two story residence, not much larger than Dillon’s cottage, attached to the lighthouse on the cliff.

Emily had thought she could witness his marrying an appropriate young lady.  After all, after the season was over, she would leave London for good.  She just hadn’t been prepared for this outcome.  Could she remain in the duke’s household if Dillon courted Claresta and possibly married her?  No.  Her heart couldn’t take such a betrayal.  Perhaps it was time to begin making plans for her eventual departure from her guardian.

* * *

After returning Claresta to Emily, Dillon excused himself and walked slowly away, hoping to hear their conversation as the two ladies strolled behind him.

“Mr. Chambers is one of the most charming gentlemen I have met yet this season.  So handsome too, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Emily grudgingly admitted.

“Oh, I do hope he calls tomorrow,” Claresta said loudly enough for him to hear.

Emily glanced over her shoulder.  “Don’t you think he is rather old for you?”

“Why, no.  Do you?”

“He is twelve years your senior,” Emily pointed out.  “One must think of one’s future.  When you are still young and lively, say ten years from now, Mr. Chambers will be a doddering old fool.  I can’t imagine you would be happy in such a circumstance.”

Dillon held his laughter in as he came to the conclusion Emily was jealous. He couldn’t be happier.

* * *

Emily didn’t know how much more she could take.  Dillon called daily since he had met Claresta and she was becoming more and more cowardly.  Dozens of other men called on Claresta, but none of them bothered Emily.  In fact, she enjoyed each of their attempts to gain favor.  It was only when Dillon was announced that her enjoyment vanished.  If he had tried to speak with her, instead of Claresta, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt so deeply.  Except he always greeted the duchess first, then Claresta.  Emily never remained long enough for him to greet her.  She couldn’t stand having to face him if his attention was only because it was the proper thing to do.  Of course, if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she didn’t even give him the chance to engage her in conversation.

That was the real crux of the situation.  She was afraid to hear what he had to say so she ran. Her biggest fear was that he would admit that she was correct and that he had been foolish to think they could be friends, or more.  Or, he could apologize, explaining that as much as he would like to continue their relationship or whatever it was; duty demanded that he pursue a lady of higher rank.  Then she would have to acknowledge that she had held out hope and that her hope was now pursuing her friend and would most undoubtedly win.  How could Claresta resist him?

Worse, he could engage her in conservation wishing to continue what they’d started in the country.  She knew as well as he the impossibility of the situation.  What could they possibly have to gain by spending more time with each other except additional heartache?  Emily decided the best course of action was self-preservation.  So, she disappeared each time he appeared.

If only His Grace would let her return to her aunt and uncle.  Twice already she’d broached the subject.  She tried to make him see that she wasn’t truly needed in London.  He would hear none of her arguments so she was forced to remain.  If only he knew how much this was killing her, then perhaps he would let her leave.  Unfortunately, if she voiced her true reasons, matters would only get worse as the duke demanded an explanation.  That would only bring trouble and discontent, so Emily kept the truth to herself.

She was completely lost in self-pity when Claresta quietly knocked on the door.  A quick glance at the clock warned her how late it had become.  This was the time Claresta always visited to share her thoughts on each gentlemen who had called.  Emily could only hope Dillon wasn’t mentioned.

Claresta settled herself on Emily’s bed.  So far Claresta hadn’t been overly impressed by any of her suitors from what Emily could tell, except perhaps Dillon.  He happened to be the one caller who brought an odd smile to Claresta’s lips.  How could she fault her friend for giving her heart to the rogue?  After all, she had done the same thing.

“May I ask you something?” Claresta asked after a moment.

“What, dearest?”  Emily wanted to be understanding, supportive and offer guidance in whatever Claresta asked, even if her heart wasn’t in the task.

“It’s about Mr. Chambers.”

“Yes. What about him?”

“Has he offended you in some way?”

She had to guard her features carefully lest Claresta see any truth in the question.  “Why do you ask?”

“You always leave whenever he arrives.”  She shrugged.

“I grow weary of your court, that is all.” Emily tried to assure her.

“He asks about you.”

“Chambers?”  Emily wanted to know exactly what he asked and why.  “I don’t see why he should concern himself.”

“That is what I have wondered,” Claresta acknowledged quietly.

Emily glanced sharply at the girl. Could she suspect?  No. Neither she nor Dillon had given anything away.  Or, had they?  “What I think is that he is courting you and your family.  He is intelligent enough to know how much everyone means to you so he is attempting to win each and every one of us.  The others barely notice your mother or I are in the same room.”

Claresta studied her for a moment.  “Is that what you truly believe?”

Emily let her eyes fall to her lap.  “It is the only thing I can believe.”

Chapter 8

In desperation to keep her mind from Dillon, Emily found herself visiting the lending library that afternoon.  As much as she tried, her studies no longer held any appeal.  It was the first time in her life that her studies had not cured her of any melancholy.  Even during her stay in the country, she was eventfully able to concentrate.  Since she had returned to London and discovered who Dillon truly was, she hadn’t been able to comprehend even a paragraph.  If thoughtful work did not soothe her perhaps she should try a novel.  She’d never read a work of fiction, other than those that were classics and considered great works.  The shopkeeper recommended Mrs. Radcliffe. Apparently most young ladies enjoyed her horrid novels, and Emily purchased The Mysteries of Udolpho. With hope that this would cure her melancholy, she returned home and settled on the window seat in her room and opened the book. Some hours later, Her Grace found her still seated there.

“I just wanted to remind you dear that we are going to the Harrington ball this evening.”

Emily smiled up at her.  “I had not forgotten.  I am sure you and Claresta will have a wonderful time.”

Her Grace stepped further into the room and shut the door.  “We are all going to the ball, dear.”

The smile fell from Emily’s face.  “I don’t see that it’s necessary I attend.”

“Ah, but it is.  You have been invited, as with all the other invitations, and frankly I am tired of making your excuses.”

Emily seriously doubted anyone asked after her.

“I understand that you have been reluctant to enter society.  I now wish my husband and I had insisted on launching you when you were younger.”

“Truly, I don’t wish to go into society.”

“You don’t wish because you don’t feel you belong,” the woman retorted.  “It is far from the truth.  Your father was a gentleman and would have been welcome had that been his desire.  I would be derelict in my duty to you, and your father’s memory, if I continued to let you remain behind when you should be taking your place.”

Quickly, Emily tried to form a number of arguments in her head but couldn’t think of a plausible one.  Her Grace was using her father against her.

“From now on, you will accompany Claresta and me.  We will leave in three hours and I have already instructed Betsy to prepare your bath.”  She turned toward the door, paused and looked back at Emily. “Wear the rose silk, dear, it looks lovely on you.”

Emily closed her book and set it on her nightstand.  This wasn’t a surprise actually. She had expected to be forced to attend functions much sooner.  At least she should be grateful for the time she had been given.  Now, how to proceed?  No doubt Dillon would be there.  She would just have to learn to ignore him, give him the cut direct, if necessary.  Of course, she knew she couldn’t, but it was a nice thought.  On the bright side, in all likelihood Taylor, Marius, Martin and Noah would be in attendance.  She could spend her time with Phoebe, Sabrina and Janine.  Or perhaps not.  They were friends of Dillon.  Drat, the man ruined everything for her.

Somehow she must persevere.  She wouldn’t let him ruin these functions for her.  She had already granted him too much power over her actions and emotions.  It needed to stop and she would make it stop tonight.  With one step at a time, she would overcome her hurt and longing and just maybe another gentleman would catch her interest and she his.  It was a plan.  A weak plan, but a plan nonetheless.  Oh, if only he was not set on courting Claresta it would be so much easier.

* * *

Dillon didn’t know why he’d agreed to attend this event except only to appease his mother.  He would have his one dance with Claresta, which insured peace for at least another twenty-four hours, and then he would see if Noah was interested in adjourning to Whites.  Since his mother had made it known what she expected from Dillon this season, mamas had become more diligent in placing their daughters in his path.  Of course only those mothers who were married to an earl, marquis, viscount or baron bothered.  His mother had made it abundantly clear that she expected someone of elevated status.  The woman was an embarrassment. At least it helped keep half the young ladies away, but there were still too many wishing an introduction.  It didn’t matter that he wasn’t titled because he was heir to an impressive fortune.  In fact, if he were correct in his information, a number of the young ladies and the mamas pursuing him were in desperate need of a financial boost.  The situation was entirely too uncomfortable for Dillon and if he could avoid it altogether, he would.  But first, he must do his duty and then he’d be free to escape once more.

“I wonder how Her Grace managed it?” Noah muttered.

Dillon turned his eyes to the top of the stairs where the duke and his family had just been announced.  Beside Claresta stood Emily in a gown of shimmering, rose silk.  His breath caught and for a moment his heart stopped before pounding more forcefully anew.  He had seen her dressed in gowns for visiting and in her riding habit.  Always she had looked lovely.  Tonight, however, she was absolutely breathtaking.  Her hair had been arranged away from her face and curled softly around her scalp.  The rose coloring brought out the pink glow of her skin, making her appear almost blushed.  Such a blush could lead a man to imagine all sorts of things that could put such a blush to the lady’s skin.  Her lips were full and a deeper rose, begging to be kissed, by him.

Never had he seen her this exposed either.  As with her riding habit, all of her day dresses covered her bodice, shoulders and a good deal of her neck.  This gown, however, left her neck and shoulders bare, capping at the upper arm.  The cut was daring, at least from what he had seen Emily wear previously.  The bodice barely covered the swell of her bosom.  While he enjoyed the sight tremendously, he wasn’t sure he wanted others to see her as exposed.  It didn’t matter that she was dressed as all other women in the room and a bit more modestly, she still revealed too much in such a public venue.

The gown was gathered with a ribbon under her breasts and fell airily to the floor.  Only a hint of her shape could be seen as the fabric moved against her body as she descended the stairs.  The moment she set foot into the ballroom, all plans of leaving for Whites vanished.  Dillon would remain as long as Emily was here, and tonight he would use every means available to get her alone.

* * *

Emily descended the stairs, praying she didn’t fall because she wasn’t used to wearing heels.  How did she let Her Grace talk her into this?  Surely she should have been able to come up with an excuse. Her resolve to enjoy the evening flew from her mind the minute she spied the assembled crowd below.  As the duke and his party were announced, most everyone turned in their direction.  She had no more business attending this ball than the chambermaid.  Why didn’t anyone understand that?  Why didn’t her guardian understand?  She could feel a number of eyes on her.  Some of the people she recognized from musicals and luncheons.  No doubt they understood that she shouldn’t be here either.  She could feel one particular person watching her and fought to keep from looking in his direction.  She had found him in the crowd while they waited to be announced.  Noah stood beside him, as did the rest of his friends.  It was going to be a very long and difficult evening and one she was sure to regret.

“I would suggest you approach Lady Claresta soon or she won’t have a dance left for you,” Marius suggested.

Dillon turned to look at him oddly.  Did they actually believe it was Claresta he was courting?  Did Marius think he would give up that easily? His good friend chuckled and turned his head.  Even though he and Marius hadn’t spoken of Emily since that night, he didn’t doubt Marius knew exactly what he was up to.

Noah, however, also suspected the truth for just that day he had came to visit, inquiring about his intentions toward Emily and Claresta.  Dillon had to be honest and say he wasn’t sure any longer.  Until he had a chance to actually speak with Emily he could make no plans. Unfortunately, Emily avoided him at every chance.  Noah had seemed to accept his word and turned their conversation to another topic.

“I think I’ll join you,” Noah stated.  “I would like to speak with Emily and perhaps acquire a dance of my own.”

Dillon followed, knowing he would politely ask for a dance from Claresta, which would please his mother.  Yet, he had every intention of securing a waltz with Emily.

* * *

A crowd of gentlemen were already forming around the ladies. However, given their position and respect in society, the young bucks parted like the Red Sea as the two gentlemen approached.

Dillon was relieved that a waltz had not been taken, though a number of other dances had been claimed and he was about to put his name next to the supper dance when Emily interrupted him.

“I do not waltz, Mr. Chambers.”

Dillon couldn’t help but look at her in surprise.  “Surely you jest.  Everyone waltz’s.”

“I am quite serious,” she assured him.

“Perhaps you have not learned.  I would be happy to teach you.”  He smiled down at her.  He could envision teaching Emily to waltz, the missteps, which he would catch her in, her body against his.  Yes, the situation was very promising indeed.

“Oh, Emily has had three dance masters and she is well versed in all the current dances,” the duchess interrupted.

“Three instructors?” Dillon inquired.

“Oh, it is not what you’re thinking,” her Grace quickly explained.  “I had hoped to present Emily when she was seventeen and engaged a dance master, but she didn’t have a season.  His Grace again thought to convince her to enter society when she was twenty and hired another dance master to help her brush up.  The last instance was when Claresta was preparing for her debut.  Emily joined in those lessons.  I can assure you Emily is most graceful.”

Dillon looked back at Emily, who appeared to be mortified at the discussion about her and her dancing skills.  She looked equally irritated.  “If you are so graceful, which I never doubted for a moment, then you are in agreement that there is nothing inappropriate about the waltz?”

“If one has been given permission,” Emily explained.

He had not even considered that silly rule.  Of course Emily had not gone to Almacks, even though she could have if she wished.  This was the first ball she had even attended.  Quickly, he scanned the rest of her card, trying to determine which dance would benefit him most and chose a country dance to take place later in the evening.

“Excuse me, Your Grace, but might I have Emily for a moment,” Noah asked the older woman.  “Countess Lievin and Lady Cowper are but on the other side of the room.  With your permission, I shall introduce Emily myself and see if we can’t gain permission as I had hoped for a waltz myself.”

Dillon turned a glare on his friend.  Why hadn’t he thought of the perfect solution?  Then again, Noah had a title and carried more weight with the Patroness of Almacks, so it was probably best if Noah took care of this small wrinkle in his plans.  Once the permission was secured, Dillon would claim the desired dance.

“Oh, I would be grateful, Lord Felding.  I would go myself but cannot leave Claresta unattended.  You understand.” Noah pulled Emily from the crowed.  ““I am so glad Lord Felding has taken this matter in hand.”  Her Grace announced once the two had moved away

“He does seem to have a certain amount of influence over her.”  Claresta observed.

“It’s not influence.  He simply takes over,” Dillon grumbled as he watched the two get lost in the crowd before turning back to Claresta.  “Have you been given permission, Lady Claresta?”

“Yes, I have.”  She held her card out to him.

Dillon took the first waltz listed and handed it back to her.

Her Grace seemed to grow concerned in watching the exchange. “Claresta has advised me that you are not in truth courting her, Mr. Chambers.”  The statement was made quietly so no one would be able to hear.

“If I could explain,” Dillon began.  He didn’t want to anger Her Grace.  Not with so much at stake.

“Claresta has explained well enough.  I am simply wondering if you have thought this through.”

It wasn’t her daughter she was concerned with but Emily, and she was going to protect her.  The unvoiced statement was very clear.

“I have thought of little else.  Until Miss Frasier allows me a chance to speak with her, I cannot do aught else.”

She nodded her head thoughtfully and turned to her daughter.  “Do you think it is wise to allow Mr. Chambers so much of your time, and even a dance when there is no courtship involved?”

Oh, Mother,” Claresta smiled brightly, “it is exactly what I want.”

“I’m not sure if I understand.”  The woman frowned at her daughter.  Dillon wasn’t sure he did either, but would find out the answer at a later time.  First, he needed to find out what kind of progress Emily had made.

* * *

Emily did not want to meet the Patronesses.  She didn’t want to be given permission to waltz because then she would have to participate in that wicked dance with Dillon.  He was the last person she needed to be in physical contact with.  Of course, she could always try and find a way to fill the card before returning to him, if she was granted permission that was.

“Countess, Lady Cowper.”  Noah approached the two influential ladies.  “I would be pleased to present Miss Emily Frasier.  She is new to London this season and the ward of the Duke of Ellings.”

The ladies studied her as she made her curtsey and Emily knew she had never been scrutinized so closely before.

“Lovely,” the countess murmured.  “Who was your family?”

“My father was a Fellow at Oxford.”

“And your mother?”  Lady Cowper asked.

“She was the daughter of Vicar Hastings,” Emily obediently answered.  The two women probably wondered what had gotten into Noah to introduce her to them.

“A humble background I see,” Countess Lievin commented.

“Yes,” Emily returned.

“You are the ward of Duke Ellings and your father was a gentleman.  Why haven’t you been presented to us before?”  Lady Cowper asked.

“I didn’t believe it was appropriate, my lady.”

“We would be better off if more young ladies were graced with your humble attitude, Miss Frasier.  You are polite, respectful and lovely.  I hold vicars in high esteem and do not doubt that such an influence would only enhance the moral character of a young lady such as yourself.  I dare say society needs stronger morals these days.”  She sighed.  “Miss Frasier, I expect you to be in attendance on Wednesday next.”

It was not a question, but a command Emily would not disobey.  “Thank you.  I would be honored,” she murmured.  At least she didn’t have to waltz until that night.  One never waltzed until being granted permission at Almacks.

“Thank you for welcoming Miss Frasier into the assembly,” Noah began.  “May I but request one favor?”

The Countess looked down her nose at him, knowing what he would presume upon them now.  “You wish permission for the young lady to waltz this evening.”

Once again people were talking about her as if she were invisible.

“Miss Frasier and Her Grace would be most grateful,” Noah assured them.

No doubt the mention of the duchess would carry much weight.  Emily had seen it happen more times than she could count.

Lady Cowper nodded.

“Thank you.”  Emily sank into another curtsey before being escorted away.

Noah was the first to take her card and put his name by the dinner waltz. “This is to insure we both have a dinner partner we can tolerate.”  He smiled down at her.

Thank goodness he had seen to the task before Dillon absconded it.

Noah escorted her back around the ballroom, stopping when they came to her father’s former students.  “Emily has been given permission to waltz this evening.”

“How delightful.”  Janine smiled.

“May I?”  Marius requested before taking the card and placing his name by the first waltz.

Emily wasn’t sure she should be dancing with a married gentleman, even if he was one of her father’s former students.  Quickly she glanced at Sabrina, his wife.  She gave her a sly wink and a smile.  As soon as Marius turned to look at his wife, her smile fell and she pointedly turned her face away.  Emily had no idea what was going on with the two, but Sabrina certainly didn’t seem to mind that she would be partnering her husband.

“I think Taylor should take the second,” Phoebe suggested.

Emily looked at her oddly.  What were the wives about?

“It is your first ball.”  Phoebe began to explain.  “We wouldn’t want you stuck with someone you didn’t wish to dance with.  This way, if someone you really wish to dance with asks, you can simply scratch out my husband’s name.  He won’t be offended.”

“I won’t?”

Phoebe tilted her head toward the front of the ballroom.  Dillon was bearing down on them.  Taylor quickly wrote his name by the third. One waltz remained and she shoved the card at Richard.

The card was back in Emily’s possession by the time Dillon reached them.

“Was Noah able to obtain permission?”

Relieved that she would not have to be in his arms, Emily smiled up at him.  “Yes, as a matter of fact he did.”

“Could I hope that you saved a least one for me?”

“They are all gone, but we do have the one dance, remember?” Emily answered cheerfully.

“Who could have taken the dances so quickly?  Do you mind if I look?”

Emily smiled and held the card up for him.  Dillon quickly scanned it.  “You should have an enjoyable time with your chosen partners.  Now, if you will excuse me, I must claim Lady Claresta, the first waltz is about to begin.”

Dillon turned on his heal and marched away.  Just as quickly, Marius claimed her as he watched his wife being led to the floor by Richard.

Emily curtseyed and Marius bowed, but his eyes were on his wife.  Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea, but the thought had barely formed when Marius swept her in a turn.  He continued to watch his wife and Emily was at a loss of what to say.  It appeared as if they were the only couple not conversing.  Dillon certainly seemed to be enjoying himself as he whirled Claresta down the floor.

“Would you rather not dance?  I would not mind in the least,” Emily said after they had completely gone around the floor once.  Marius had not said one word to her but kept watching his wife.  With no conversation to distract her, Emily’s eyes followed Dillon.  This just wouldn’t do to be seen watching him so intently.

Her words brought Marius’ attention back to his partner.  “Forgive me.  I was temporarily distracted by my willful wife.”

“I gathered as much.”

“I won’t be so remiss in my attention again.”  He executed a turn and Emily almost lost her footing.  “How are you enjoying London?”

* * *

Dillon was trying not to watch Marius dance with Emily, but he was holding her too close, and whispering in her ear.  What were they discussing?

“She does look beautiful tonight,” Claresta observed. “She is also dancing with a besotted husband so I don’t believe you have cause to worry.”

Dillon turned back to her.  “I’m sorry.  It was rude of me not to grant you my full attention.”

“I am not insulted, merely curious.”

“How so?”

“Mother told me that you needed to find a titled wife this season.”

“She was warning you about me?” Dillon teased with a smile.

“Somewhat, I suppose,” Claresta admitted, not returning his smile at first.  “If that is the case, why pursue Emily?”

Dillon shrugged, not wanting to give much away.  “I cannot help myself.”

“I believe you might be as besotted as your friend.”

Dillon smiled down at her.  “You’re probably right, Lady Claresta.”

“What of your duty then?”

“That is a difficult question.  I cannot answer until I know where the lady’s heart lies.”

“If Emily returned your feelings, would you defy your parents?”

Dillon let his face relax, no longer forcing a smile. The question Lady Clarista asked was not to be taken lightly. “If it came to that, then yes, but I ask that this conversation remains between us.  Until I have a chance to speak with Emily, I don’t wish to make plans for my future.”

Claresta studied him seriously.  “I will guard your secret and wish you luck.”

Dillon’s lips broke into a big smile.  “How can I lose with you in my corner?”  He turned her quickly.  “Now tell me, why are you so certain you wish to proceed with this assumption I am courting you?”

“Oh, the answer to that is quite simple,” she giggled.

“Enlighten me,” he urged.

“It probably hasn’t gone without your notice that because of who I am a number of gentlemen have sought me out.”

“Quite understandable.”

“I recently began to notice that since you have been seen in my company often, the numbers are dwindling.”

Dillon pulled back.  “If I am impeding any courtship please let me know.”

“No, the opposite actually.”

“How so?”

“Well, you do have a reputation.”

“Inflated,” Dillon corrected.  As with the others, he still couldn’t understand why he and his friends had been so sought after.

“I have determined that the only men who would risk courting a duke’s daughter and also try to remove you from my side are either one of two types of people.”

This was interesting. “What type would those be, though I am afraid to ask?”

“Either desperate for an heiress or, they truly like me for who I am.”

“How can you determine which is which?”  It was actually sound thinking.

“You will tell me, of course.”

“Me?”  He practically choked.

“Yes.  You see, I’m using you.”  She smiled sheepishly.

“I am hurt that you think so little of my feelings,” Dillon stated with mocked indignation.

Claresta rolled her eyes.  “Please, we both know you are not hurt in the least.  What I would like you to do is let me know, in your opinion, if any of the gentlemen who call on me are fortune hunters.”

“Couldn’t your father determine the same?”

Claresta shrugged her shoulders.  “If they had any sense, they would always be on their best behavior around father.  They may not be when around you and your friends.”

Another very good point.  “As you wish.  I will look into your admirers and let you know if any are worthy of your affection.”  At least it would give him something else to concentrate on rather than wondering about Emily all the time.

Dillon did his duty for the rest of the evening.  He danced with the daughter of a marquis, earl and viscount.  He also managed to attend supper with the daughter of a wealthy German Count.  All in all, his mother had no cause for complaint.

Emily, on the other hand, danced with entirely unsuitable gentlemen.  Either they were not worthy of her affection, given the vices Dillon was aware of, or they were married.  Of course the married gentlemen included his friends, with the exception of Noah.  While Claresta may have been willing to help, apparently Noah was not.  As they entered the supper room, Dillon spied two open chairs at the table Noah had selected.  Before he could make his way in that direction, the seats were taken by Taylor and Phoebe.  If he didn’t know better, he would have believed they were all intentionally preventing him from having a few moments with Emily.  Or, perhaps they were discouraging his suit.  If that were so, what kind of friends were they?

* * *

Emily stayed on the opposite side of the ballroom from Dillon the entire evening.  It pained her to watch him dance with all the lovely young ladies.  It pained her more to observe how much he seemed to be enjoying himself.   The only highlight of the evening was her dances with her father’s chosen few.  They had been relaxed and enjoyable.  The other dances had been with gentlemen she was barely acquainted with and the conversation, if any, had been strained.  She had no idea how Claresta could endure this night after night.  Of course, Claresta’s heart was not engaged and perhaps that was the problem in its entirety.  Would she have viewed these gentlemen differently if she had never had her country month with Dillon?  She hated to think that short time ruined her for the chance to love anyone else.  Unfortunately, she believed it was already too late.  If only this season would end soon.  Then she could have a quick visit with her aunt and uncle and move far away.  She had checked her accounts recently and believed she had acquired enough funds to purchase a small house.  Next week she would begin sending out enquires in hopes of landing a position as a teacher or a governess.

Half way through the evening, Taylor claimed her for his waltz.  Thankful for a friend, she was glad to leave the group of gentlemen currently gathered around her.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”  Taylor twirled her along the floor.

“I’m finding the entire event tedious.”  Emily sighed.

“That could change, you know,” he hinted.

Emily tilted her head up and looked at him curiously.

“You could dance with Dillon.”

“He has a dance scheduled later,” Emily stated coolly.

“May I ask you a question, Emily?”

“What?”  The last conversation she wanted to have was one involving Dillon.

“I have known Dillon a number of years, since we were boys, actually.”

“I am happy for you.”

“I was intrigued by his reaction to you and your reaction to him at my house the other evening.”

“We were simply surprised to see each other.  That is all.”

Taylor chuckled lightly.  “I don’t believe that is all.  He returned to London for the season, looking forward to it.  A very rare, thought to be extinct, feeling for a gentleman of his nature.”

“He has his goal of marrying a title and is ready to embrace it.”

“One could believe that if he hadn’t changed so suddenly.”

She wasn’t about to ask how he had changed.  She didn’t even want to discuss Dillon in the first place, so why should she encourage Taylor further?

“After that dinner he has gone from angry to depressed to agitated to frustrated and not at all fun to be around any longer.”

“Perhaps the pressure of finding a titled bride is wearing him.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s it.”  Taylor pulled her slightly closer so none could hear.  “I think Dillon did find the one he could marry but she won’t even speak to him.  That can make any gentleman out of sorts.”

“If you are referring to me, let me assure you that Dillon and I have never discussed any permanent relationship.”  Though it had been inferred when they agreed to meet in July.  “We would never suit and even if we did, his mother would never approve.  He has never gone against his parent’s wishes before and I don’t expect him to do so now.”

“He is older and has much more to gain.”

“Leave it alone, Taylor.  What was there is over and cannot be revisited.”

“What was there?” His voice dropped low, full of concern.

Emily knew she had said too much.

“What did he do to you?” There was an edge to his voice.

Tears came to her eyes.  “Only completely charmed me.”

Taylor twirled her out the open doors and onto a balcony, away from the eyes of the ton.

Emily took a few moments to gather her emotions, breathed deeply and turned to her escort.  “Thank you for removing me from the room.  I’m not normally so emotional but this is a tender subject for me.”

“Something happened in the country and you fell in love.”

“It no longer matters and I wish you would let it go.  Please, for my sake as well as his.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No, I cannot talk of it.”  Turning she walked away

Emily begged off the next few dances, claiming exhaustion.  It was easily believed as she had not attended a ball before.  As the time approached for her dance with Richard, she was relieved because she would like to be in the company of someone who had known her since she was a child.  All too soon, she would be required to partner with Dillon.  If only she could find a way to avoid that one as easily as she did the others, but knew he wouldn’t allow it.

Her agitation for the evening only increased when Richard walked over to claim his dance with Dillon at his side.  “Please forgive me, Emily, but I need to leave rather urgently.”

“Is it anything serious?”

“Simone has sent a note that one of the children has taken ill.  I am sure it is nothing of grave concern.”

“Of course, I understand.”  How could she not?  She knew as well as everyone how much his wife, Simone, and the children meant to Richard.

“Dillon has agreed to stand in my place so you won’t go without a partner.”

“Oh, he has.  How very thoughtful,” Emily muttered dryly.  Did Richard have an ill child after all or was he in league with Dillon?

“The music is about to begin.”  Dillon offered his arm.

It would be the height of rudeness to deny him this dance, and she certainly didn’t want to bring attention to herself as no less than a dozen people had heard the exchange.  “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”  She nodded toward Richard before accepting Dillon’s arm.  All she needed to do was get through this one dance then she could go home.  This waltz canceled out the one he had already claimed as far as she was concerned.  Besides, it would only cause speculation if they danced two in a row.

“You don’t need to look so put upon,” Dillon whispered as they took their places.

“I apologize.  I was simply concerned about Richard’s child.”

“I don’t believe he has an ill child,” Dillon admitted.

She turned to him and frowned.  She had suspected the same but believed it was something he and Dillon had concocted.  “How do you know?”

“Richard always mentions his children by name.  This time he didn’t.  I can only suspect that he was making it up as he went to grant me my one wish for the evening.”

“You asked him to replace him in this dance?”  Emily was outraged.

“No.  Nothing so sinister.  I think Richard was simply taking pity on me.  It is no secret among my friends that I have wanted to speak with you.”

The music began and they greeted each other in the manner of the dance.  Emily braced herself for the feel of his hands.  It was worse than she had remembered.  They were warm and strong, clasping her gloved, right hand.  The glove made no difference for she could feel his strength and it sent tingles down her arm as he placed his other hand at her waist.  The gown was so thin it felt as if he were touching her bare skin and her pulse jumped.  This was the very reason she didn’t want to waltz with him.  Couldn’t anyone understand that?

“Would you drive with me tomorrow?”  He knew this was not the venue in which to discuss their current situation.

“I don’t think that would be wise, nor do I see a purpose.”

“No purpose?”  His voice rose and he quickly lowered it, pulling her slightly closer.  “I had hoped you would like to continue what began in the country.  To see if it was all an illusion or if there was something real and so rare between us.”

Emily didn’t want to have this discussion, ever, but most assuredly not on the dance floor. “To what end?  Even if it was real and rare, nothing can come of it and I don’t understand why you insist on pursuing me.”

“What do you mean nothing can come of it?  How can you possibly know such a thing?”

“Because I now know who you are and you know who I am.  It’s unacceptable and I wish you would be realistic enough to realize it before putting me through more pain.”  Oh, she had not meant to say pain.  She had never intended to let him know her feelings.

“Emily,” Dillon stated in a quieter voice.  “You are not the only one pained.  It kills me to see you dance with others, even my friends, knowing I cannot have you.”

“That is the way it must be.  Claresta is a wonderful young woman.  She is what you need, not I.”

“You wish me to court Claresta?”

“It’s what is expected.”

“Yes, but only because of an agreement I made that I am sorely regretting.”

“Still, an agreement is an agreement,” Emily reminded him.  “Besides, even without the agreement we would never suit.  You are who you are.”

“Did those weeks at the cottage mean nothing to you?”

Emily was surprised by the venom in his tone.  “You at least had the advantage of knowing how impossible it was for us and led me to believe otherwise.  I am still not sure what you are about.  Is this a game to you?  Was it a game then?  What is the purpose when there will be nothing between us at the end of the season?”

Chapter 9

Tonight Emily would attend a Shakespearean play with just Claresta, Her Grace and Noah to escort them.  No dancing, no talking, no crowds.  Other than the necessary intermission, she would be secluded in the private box with only a few and be able to watch the play.  It sounded like a perfect evening.  Heaven knew she wasn’t ready for another meeting with Dillon.  She tried to block out his last words, Did those weeks mean anything to you? Had she given too much away with her response?  Whatever feelings had developed between them had been genuine, which made this situation all the more difficult.  Still, if he had been honest about who he was, none of this would have ever happened.  If he’d admitted that first day that he was the heir to the snootiest family in the area, she would have never ridden that direction again.

The theatre was crowded when they finally arrived, but Noah was instrumental in guiding them through the crowd to the duke’s private box. Emily let out a sigh of relief and sank into her seat.  London may have many interesting pursuits to offer, but the crowds were suffocating.  This was the very reason she preferred to remain in the country.  At home, even at the most crowded assembly one could breathe, unlike the social events here.

Below her in the pit, the spectators were in a joyous mood.  The girls selling oranges wove their way, quite skillfully, through the crowds.  Laughter surrounded her and Emily’s eyes shifted from one gathering to another before looking at the occupants in the other private boxes.  Many faces she recognized and nodded at their similar greetings. Two boxes down, Mr. and Mrs. Chambers had taken their seat.  Emily could have done without seeing them, but decided not to let their presence dampen her festive mood.

The duchess turned toward the door.  “I am so glad you could join us, Mr. Chambers.”

No.  Not tonight, please.  Slowly she turned in that direction.  Standing in the doorway, looking more handsome than anyone had a right, Dillon nodded in her direction.  He was dressed formally in a black, tight fitting jacket.  His white shirt and cravat were bright against his tanned faced.  The man was a rogue!

He smiled and greeted everyone warmly, lingering perhaps a little too long over her hand than necessary.  What was his game tonight?

“I asked Mr. Chambers to join us when Lord Felding hinted that he didn’t have enough arms to escort three ladies,” Her Grace explained.

Claresta seemed all too happy to see him.  Must Emily endure their affection for one another yet another night?

Noah took his seat in the second row, next to the duchess.  Claresta stood and moved to the last seat in the front row, leaving a chair between them. “Please, Mr. Chambers.” She gestured to the chair.  Dillon didn’t hesitate to settle himself.

This is too much.

Dillon turned back to his hostess. “I did not ask, what is the play this evening?”

An odd look showed on Her Grace’s face, and Emily was hard pressed to define it.  “Romeo and Juliet.”

Dillon held the woman’s eyes for a moment and a small smile appeared on his lips.  “A very good choice, indeed.”

“Yes, I somewhat thought you would feel that way.”

Emily was mortified.  Of all the plays, this was the last one she would have subjected herself to.  She didn’t need a reminder of what happened when two lovers went against their parents’ wishes.  Not that she and Dillon were lovers, by any stretch of the imagination, she just didn’t want any reminders.  Next time she would ask the duchess for the name of a play or opera before simply accepting a response of “Shakespeare”.

Before anyone else could speak, the lights were lowered and the play began.  Emily only halfway paid attention.  As soon as it was dark, Dillon had shifted his weight and his leg was now pressed against hers.  Emily had tried to scoot away, but he only shifted again.  She would have moved further but then she would have been on the floor and she wouldn’t give him that much control.  Instead, she did her best to ignore the warm strength pressed against the outside of her thigh and concentrate on the play.

When the lights came up to signal intermission, Emily sprung from her seat.  In her concentration of trying to pay attention to the play and ignore Dillon, Emily had been unaware that the others in her party had left them alone.  Quickly she exited to find Her Grace fretting by the door with Claresta on her arm.

“What is it?  What is wrong?”

“I am afraid Claresta is ill.”  Her Grace looked down at her daughter.  “I have sent Lord Felding for the carriage.”

“Let me grab my wrap.”  Emily turned toward the door.

“No, please don’t leave on my account,” Claresta begged in a pained voice.

Emily narrowed her eyes.  Claresta didn’t look at all ill to her.

“I can’t very well stay on my own.”

“Is everything alright Lady Claresta?”  Mrs. Chambers approached from the hall.

“I am afraid my daughter has taken ill.  Lord Felding has gone to fetch the carriage.”

“Oh dear.  I hope it isn’t anything too serious,” the woman cooed.

She may be Dillon’s mother, but Emily could not like the woman.

“I am sure she is just exhausted from all the late evenings,” Her Grace answered with a bit of irritation.

Perhaps the duchess didn’t like Mrs. Chambers any better than Emily did.  Hopefully that wouldn’t hinder any future in-law relationships between Claresta and Dillon.

“Will you be joining us then, Chadwick?  Or will you be escorting Lady Claresta and Her Grace home?”

Dillon opened his mouth but wasn’t given a chance to answer.

“I was hoping he would escort Miss Frasier,” the duchess suggested.

“It’s not necessary,” Emily quickly insisted. “I don’t mind leaving now.”

“Nonsense. I know how much you have looked forward to seeing this play.”

“I couldn’t ask either Mr. Chambers or Emily to leave,” Claresta added in a weak voice.  “Just yesterday Mr. Chambers and I were discussing how much he was looking forward to this production with as much enthusiasm as Emily had shown.  I would feel absolutely wretched if I were the cause of them both missing the ending.”

“I already know how it ends,” Emily answered through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed on Claresta.  She had just told an outright falsehood, at least as far as it pertained to Emily.  “Besides, you already feel wretched, I’m sure.”

“Still, I could never forgive myself if I was the cause of spoiling Mr. Chamber’s evening.” Claresta looked up at him with her big blue eyes, beseechingly.  “Please escort Emily.  I’m sure I would feel better just knowing neither of you had to miss this evening.”

The little actress. Claresta should be playing Juliet.

“Yes, you both must stay.  I insist,” Her Grace ordered in her most ducal tone.

Dillon leaned toward Claresta; concern marred his previously besotted face. Emily feared she could be ill.  Maybe she would become sick, and then they could all go home.  “If you are sure?  I can easily see the play another evening.  Your health is much more important.”

Claresta smiled up at him weakly.  “You are so kind, as always, but I insist.  Please stay, for me?”

“Only because you wish me to.”  He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.  Their eyes met momentarily.

Mrs. Chambers’ mouth opened and closed a few times before she pursed her lips together. No doubt she didn’t want her special son left behind with the inferior female, but didn’t dare insult the mother of the lady her son should marry.

Emily sighed heavily.  Dillon belonged on the stage right along side Claresta.  Had the two hatched this ridiculous plan?  If so, the young woman should feel ashamed for making her mother worry so and Emily would have a nice long talk with her when she returned that evening.

Emily settled back into her chair after being abandon by everyone but Dillon.  What could Her Grace be thinking?  She shouldn’t have been left alone with Dillon even if she was three and twenty.  Apparently the woman thought that since everyone had heard the distressing news of Claresta’s health and the girl’s pleas, her reputation would not be hurt.

His mother watched their box, her back almost to the stage.  She was probably making sure Dillon didn’t succumb to the charms of lesser person.  Though it made Emily uncomfortable, it did keep Dillon from moving closer.  They hadn’t sat this far apart when there were other people in the box with them.

At least she could finally concentrate on the production, even if it was the last act.  The actors were quite good and the final scenes moving.  In fact, when Juliet killed herself, Emily felt the tears form and began searching for her handkerchief.  His hand appeared before her with a snowy white handkerchief dangling from his fingertips.  She accepted it with a watery smile then turned her attention back to the play.

They barely waited for the lights to come up before exiting their box.  Emily was anxious to escape and be home as quickly as possible; however their intentions were impeded by his mother.

“Why are you in such a hurry?  You know what a crush will be waiting?”

“Miss. Frasier is worried about Lady Claresta, as am I, and wishes to return her home as quickly as possible.”  Dillon escorted Emily away before his mother could argue further.

Emily clutched her reticule tightly between both hands while they waited for the carriage.  The traffic was heavy tonight and it would take forever to get home.  Whatever was Claresta thinking to leave them alone?  If the young woman were indeed ill, then Emily would feel horrible about her uncharitable thoughts.  Still, she suspected this setup had been done on purpose but for what reason, she didn’t know.  Could Claresta suspect the truth?  Was Claresta testing Dillon’s feelings somehow?  Emily couldn’t believe Dillon would have confessed anything to her.

Dillon assisted her up into the carriage and took the seat opposite of her.  At least he couldn’t touch her from there.  As long as he remained a distance she could think straight, though she was surprised he hadn’t sat next to her.  The entire first act of the play he plastered his leg against hers. After Claresta became ill, he treated her with respect and distance. The man was the most confusing creature on this earth and she couldn’t wait to get home and be rid of him.

* * *

Dillon cursed his luck. His parents had followed them out of the theater and their carriage was behind his.  They would travel in the same direction for a few blocks so he had to continue to keep his distance. But, as soon as they turned in the opposite direction he would move to the place beside Emily.

Their carriages came abreast at the crossroad and his mother peered into his carriage, her lips firm and eyebrows narrowed.  When she saw Emily seated across from Dillon and looking out the opposite window she smiled and waved.  Dillon nodded his head in acknowledgment.

As soon as they had traveled less than a block, Dillon pulled the shades.

Emily turned startled eyes on him.  Dillon didn’t give her a chance to object before he moved to her side, pulled her into his arms and claimed her with a possessive kiss.  Emily pushed against his chest and tried to turn her head away but Dillon wouldn’t allow her to break contact and held her head in place.

She wretched her head free and opened her mouth to object, but Dillon didn’t give her an opportunity.  He followed and plundered.  He’d been denied the taste of Emily far too long.

Dillon knew the fight had gone out of her when she stopped pushing on his chest and slid her hands up to his shoulders.  Only then did he delve deeper.

Emily’s hands strayed to his hair and Dillon’s hand skimmed down her arm before he pulled her onto his lap.  He didn’t give her a chance to protest because he never stopped kissing her long enough for her to speak.

His hand caressed her waist and moved upward until he was cupping her breast.  Emily moaned into his mouth and he brushed a thumb across her hardened nipple. With his other hand he loosened her bodice until no clothing lay between her breasts and his hands.

Dillon trailed his kisses down her neck, to her collarbone until he reached one rosy, tight bud.  He drew it slowly into this mouth, savoring each moment.  Emily moaned and arched her back.  He lowered her to the seat and followed her down; his lips never left her body.

His fingers itched to lift the hem of her gown and to caress her thighs, but he would not.  He was having a difficult enough time remaining in control as it was and knew if he sought anything further he would have no control whatsoever.  He allowed himself a few moments more to enjoy her soft, full breasts before slowly raising his head.

Emily lifted her head to look at him, eyes dark with passion.  The passionate haze that enveloped her must have evaporated because her eyes grew wide and she gasped in shock. Yanking up her bodice she scrambled to the opposite seat.  She frantically tried to reach the buttons at the back of her gown to fix her appearance.  “Drat.”

He took a seat behind her and redid the buttons she was unable to reach. When he was finished Emily shifted to the other seat and attempted to repair her hair.

Tears formed in her eyes when she looked up at him.  “Why did you do that?”

“To remind you.”

Chapter 10

Emily simply stared at him with a hundred thoughts flitting across her mind.  Did he think she could forget what it felt like to be kissed and held by him?  She was a fool to have allowed him past her defenses.

“I need you to hear me out, please?”

Was that his game?  To befuddle her so he could say his peace and be on his way.

“I was wrong not to tell you who I was, but I never dreamed there would be obstacles in our path.”

“How could you think otherwise?  I was always clear on who I am.”

Dillon looked her in the eyes, challenged.  “You never told me you were a professor’s daughter.”

“It is a small matter that doesn’t change anything.  I was very clear that he was a scholar and of no consequence except to me and His Grace. You, on the other hand, let me believe that you were a servant, a common laborer.”

Dillon winced.  “Do you know why?”

“I’ve formed a number of opinions on that matter, but no, I don’t know why?”

“All my life I’ve done what is expected of me.  I’ve met my mother’s expectations whenever possible.  I followed my parents’ rules when I would have normally balked if someone else asked.  Mother is a formidable woman who should not be crossed.  It is more peaceful to go along.”

“My father knew this,” Emily said thoughtfully.  “I asked him once why he allowed you to do what he would not allow the others.  He said you had enough battles to fight and he would not add to them.”

“Yes.  He understood better than most, but I never knew why.”

Emily leveled her eyes at him.  “He also said that you would know which battles were worth fighting for and be able to weigh your sacrifices when older. You were too young then and still manipulated.”

“Did he explain those battles?”  How much had the professor confided in his daughter?  Perhaps she already knew his most cherished secrets because nothing had been withheld from Professor Frasier.

“No. He didn’t.  Still, this doesn’t explain why you proceeded in such a manner with me.”

“I have met few people in my life who didn’t know me or know of me.  You know who my friends are.  They’re the only people who accept me for who I am.  Out there,” he gestured to the window, “I am Chadwick Chambers.  Heir to a fortune.  A son who is expected to make the match of the season.  They know it isn’t me they really need to please, but my mother.  No one, other than your father and my current friends ever bothered to find out who I am.  What little my mother knows she would change.”

Emily listened quietly, twisting her skirts in her hands. He wondered what she was thinking.  “At the cottage I met a beautiful, witty, intelligent woman.  She had no preconceived notions of what to expect of me.  I was free to be myself.  I was doing things to please me until it became important to please you as well.”

“I never asked anything of you.”

Dillon smiled.  “No.  You never did, which made me want to please you all the more.”

“The garden?” she whispered.

“Yes.  I started seeing the cottage and land through your eyes, or tried to.  I never questioned why I felt this way.  I only knew I wanted what you saw.”

“Why, when you knew our time would be over within the month?”

He liked that she used the term our time.  It gave him hope.  “I didn’t know that it couldn’t be, or that we couldn’t pick up where we left off in London, returning once again to the cottage in the summer.”

“How could you not?  I never led you to believe I was anything more than I am.”  The anguish in her voice pulled at his heart.

Dillon shrugged.  “I thought that you were withholding as much as I.  You are the ward of a duke.  Not just anyone finds themselves in that position.  Our servants said they had heard rumors that your mother had married a nobleman but did not know who.”

“She didn’t.”

“I know that now.”

“You believed I was secretly a nobleman’s daughter?”  The left side of her mouth turned up in a smile.

“Who was enjoying a rare opportunity to be herself without all the expectations of your position in society.”

“You knew all along we were bound to meet in London.  How were you going to explain yourself?”

“My plan was to present myself to you, hoping you weren’t overly angry, beg your forgiveness and proceed from there.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“You don’t hate me any longer?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

She looked down at her lap.  “I never really hated you.  I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

“Does it have to end?” Dillon asked after they had sat quietly for a moment.

Emily looked up at him, her eyes beseeching. “You know it does.”

“Why?”  He needed to know if she wanted it to end or if circumstances were making her decision.

“Your mother.”

Dillon breathed a sigh of relief.  At least it wasn’t of her own choosing.  “I’m not ready to let you go.  I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”

Pain filled her eyes.

“Can we not try?  Perhaps what we shared at the cottage was only a dream.  We’ll never know unless we see if this connection we share exists in the real world.  I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering.  Do you?”

“It is impossible.”  She shook her head and looked out the window.

“You met with me in secret, believing your aunt and uncle would not approve.  I went along in order to spend time with you.”  Dillon reminded her. “I’m asking you to do the same for me.”

When she continued to watch the passing scenery and not respond, Dillon continued, “As long as mother thinks I am courting Lady Claresta, she will allow me much more freedom.”

Her head snapped back and a stern look.  “I cannot and will not let you use Claresta in such a manner.”

Dillon quirked an eyebrow and smiled.  “I’m willing to bet that when you return home this evening you’ll find Lady Claresta as healthy as she was before attending the theater.”

Emily narrowed her eyes.

“I might add that I have never once discussed attending the theater with her, but she certainly convinced my mother we had.”

“I’ve never discussed it with Claresta or Her Grace.”

“Lady Claresta realized early on that it was you, not she, who had caught my interest.”

Emily tilted her head to look at him, her eyes narrowed with irritation.  “Did the two of you plan the events of this evening?”

Dillon laughed.  “No.  This was all Lady Claresta’s doing.  I was as surprised as you.  Though I don’t think she acted alone.”

“How do you know?  Who else?”

“Noah is the one who invited me to join your group.  Whether it was of his own volition or at the request of Lady Claresta I do not know.  Actually, I’m not sure I care since we are now here.”

“I still don’t see how it’s possible, your plan.”

Dillon sighed.  “Truthfully, I don’t either.  I couldn’t think beyond finding a chance to explain and obtaining your agreement.”

“You caught onto her plan much more quickly then I.”

“Not the whole of it, no.”

“Still, the choice of Romeo and Juliet was not a coincidence.”

Dillon laughed again.  “No, I don’t believe it was.”  Sobering, he leaned forward and grabbed her hands.  “I’ll find a way we can meet.  Let’s just hope for a different ending.”

“I agree.”  Emily smiled in return.

“To meet or to avoid a tragic ending?”

Emily laughed.  “Both.”

Grinning, Dillon tapped on the roof of the carriage signaling the driver to take them to the duke’s home.  Pulling her close, he kissed her again, keeping his hands on her waist, until the carriage slowed and stopped.

Chapter 11

Dillon sat behind his desk the following morning, mapping out his plans.  He knew in his heart they belonged together, but so much was at stake.  Though he used his finances as an excuse, there was a much deeper reason why he couldn’t make a misstep in this action.  He had to protect Celia, even at the cost of his own happiness, and now Emily’s, if it came to that.  Few knew of his devotion to the young woman.  Nobody outside of his family had ever learned of her existence or what she meant to him, except Professor Frasier and Marius.  Professor Frasier had understood and had been extremely helpful all those years ago.  Dillon was willing to sacrifice everything to have Emily, except for Celia.

It was too early to tell Emily about Celia, but in time he knew he would have to confess the whole of it.  He just prayed she was as understanding as her father had been.

Noah found him making lists when he arrived.

“Can I assume Claresta made a complete recovery upon leaving the theater?”  Dillon asked as his friend walked into the room.

“It was remarkable. A true miracle.”  Noah settled into the seat in front of the desk.

Dillon grunted and poured a cup of coffee which he handed to his friend. “I need your help.”

“How so?”

“Emily has agreed to a courtship, so to speak,” Dillon began.  It didn’t sound honorable even to his own ears, even when he had the most honorable intentions in mind. Still, he couldn’t do this without the support of his friends.

“In secret, without your mother knowing,” Noah prompted.

“Yes.  Are you willing to give aid?”

“What would happen if your mother knew?  How much power does she have?”

“She’ll cut me off completely.”

“You have investments,” Noah reminded him.

“Everything is tied up at the moment.  She could choose to have me vacate this townhouse, then I would have to live with her, unless you would offer me a roof over my head.” He grinned at Noah, only half joking because he may just need to beg his friend for a place to stay.  “My next quarterly isn’t due until next month.  I need to appease her for that long until I have the funds.”

“Then after?”

“By then, I hope to know for sure if Emily and I are meant to be together.  I really don’t doubt it, but living in the country is far different than going about in society and I need to be sure before I fight my parents.”

“Suppose you marry.” Noah leaned forward and placed his cup on the desk. “What could she do?”

“I wouldn’t see even a shilling until my father passed on.  Then she would have no control.”

Noah whistled in astonishment.

“She would cut me off completely now if she had even an inkling to my plans.  I can’t give her that ammunition yet.”  Besides, he couldn’t risk any harm to Celia, he added to himself.

“Have you thought beyond what you would do if you and Emily married?”

“I have the cottage and the land.  Nobody can take that away from me.  Beyond that, I know I’ll need to find employment.”

“You have thought this through.”  Noah sounded impressed.

“Some.  I don’t yet know if Emily is willing to marry me and even if she were, how she would feel about being married to a poor, working man and living in the small cottage.”

“She had wanted the cottage for herself.”

“Yes, but she is also used to living in the duke’s household and used to the finer things in life.  How do you think she would feel knowing that the cottage wasn’t just for an escape but a home forever?”

“I don’t believe she would object.”

“It is a huge step and there are gentlemen who could offer much more.”

Noah sat back in the chair, cradled the cup in his hands and thoughtfully looking at Dillon.  He would love to know what his friend was thinking.  “Emily is in agreement to the secretive manner of this courtship?”

“Yes, surprisingly enough.”  Dillon hoped Noah would be a friend to them both.

“Your intentions are honorable?” he questioned outright.

“You know they are.”  He was affronted that Noah would ask such a question.

“Very well, I’ll help.  However, if you hurt her in anyway, you’ll answer to me.”

“Thank you.”  If Noah helped, the others would follow suit.  With such a supportive group behind him, Dillon didn’t believe they could fail.

* * *

Claresta was sitting at the breakfast table alone the following morning when Emily entered.  “I hope you’re feeling better.  I was so worried about you.”  She took a seat next to the girl.

“I am better, though still somewhat weak and tired.”  She did sound rather pathetic, and if she didn’t look so well-rested with a healthy glow Emily may have actually believed her, maybe.

“Then perhaps you should be in bed.”

“No, I am sure I’ll feel better once I have had my tea.”

Emily rolled her eyes and rose to fill her plate from the sideboard.  “The play was marvelous.  It is too bad you couldn’t stay for the end.”

Claresta didn’t respond, but watched Emily expectantly as she placed her plate on the table and settled in her seat once again.

“I even cried at the end.  Mr. Chambers was kind enough to loan me his handkerchief.”  Emily took it from her pocket and dangled it in front of Clarista’s face.  “I thought perhaps you would like to have it.”

“Me?”  Claresta’s eyes grew large.  “Why would I want it?”

“I thought you had a tender for him.  It certainly appeared that way last night when you begged him to stay because you would be crushed if he missed the performance on your behalf.”  Emily dabbed mock tears from her cheeks with Dillon’s handkerchief.

Claresta pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.  “You knew all along?”

“I had my suspicions at the time.  It wasn’t until I was alone in the carriage with Mr. Chambers that the truth of your illness came to light.”

“He had no way of knowing I wasn’t ill,” Claresta defended.

“No, but he knew you were supportive in giving him a chance to speak with me.”

“Well?” the girl asked, dismissing her part in the deception.

“What we talked about was between the two of us.  What I want to know is how you feel about Mr. Chambers, truly.”

Claresta studied Emily with a tilt of her head.  “I think he is a handsome, charming gentleman.  I enjoy his company very much as well as dancing with him.”

That was what Emily had been afraid of.  Dillon had read Claresta all wrong.  She did have a tender for him.  Their plan would never work.

“I also know he is smitten with you,” Claresta added.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Claresta snorted in the most unladylike manner.  “He is as smitten with you as I think you are with him.”

“It is of no consequence.  I would not see you hurt.”

This time Claresta laughed.  “Mr. Chambers may be all that I have said but I am not attracted to him, not in a way one should be attracted to a suitor.”

Emily narrowed her eyes.  “Are you being truthful with me?”

“Emily, I can tell how he feels about you by the way his eyes light when he asks about you, which is often.  You get the same expectant look on your face as well.  I knew immediately where his heart lay the moment we met.  And, even if he did not feel this way about you and you him, I would still not have considered him for myself.  I think we could be great friends, but never anything more.”

Claresta was sincere, and for that Emily was grateful.  She could never live with herself if she caused Claresta any kind of pain.

“So, are you going to allow him to court you?”

Emily hesitated.  How much should she tell her friend?  “Are you willing to help?”  Emily asked instead.

“I was already prepared to allow him to openly court me.  After all, it serves my purposes as well.”

That was the oddest thing Claresta could have said. “How so?  Won’t his presence discourage would be suitors?”

“You know that was my intention before we came to London. To discourage suitors that is. I didn’t know I would have an ally in Mr. Chambers.” Claresta laughed. “His mother will be happy, I’ll be happy and you’ll be happy.  I don’t see any need to alter the situation.”

“Thank you.” It was all Emily could get out with being so overwhelmed with emotion.  She couldn’t believe Claresta was willing to do this for her.  Whether she believed it or not, she was making a sacrifice by not making herself more openly available.  Emily would have to find a way to show her appreciation. “What of your parents?”  She couldn’t bear the thought that they could be hurt in this, or angry with their daughter.

Claresta was thoughtful for a moment. “I think mother suspects.  She knows what Chambers and my feelings are for each other.  She also knew I was not ill last night.   I think she is willing to give you her blessing.”

“Perhaps so, if it wasn’t done so secretly.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”  Claresta smiled.  “Remember how well she handled Mrs. Chambers last night?”

Emily slowly smiled.  Her Grace had indeed led Mrs. Chambers to believe a few falsehoods.  Still, it wouldn’t be wise to openly flaunt her secret courtship in front of the duchess, if one could openly flaunt a secret.  Emily would have to think on that one.

* * *

Noah had called the gathering of all their friends and wives and the met in the Sandlin library.  Dillon quickly offered a more detailed explanation of his courtship in the country, without the intimate details.  A few eyebrows were raised by the gentlemen and the ladies smirked.  Dillon suspected they were all probably wondering what details he was leaving out.  He then added how he would be financially ruined if he openly pursued Emily and eventually married her.

Marius wandered the room, reviewing the library shelves while Dillon explained.

“I now understand why Emily looked as if she would like to have killed him that night,” Martin observed

Marius lifted a book from the shelf and settled into a chair.

The rest of the group looked at him oddly before continuing their discussion.  Dillon wondered why he would choose to read at a time like this.  The man was his best friend.  Was the seriousness of the situation lost on him?

“I, for one, think we should help them,” Phoebe stated emphatically.

“I agree,” Marius muttered, not bothering to take his eyes from the book as he turned the pages, apparently looking for something.

“I’m sure each of us could come up with a few outings where they could be together without Mrs. Chambers being suspicious,” Janine added.

Marius set the book aside and looked up.  “I think we should call her Sleeping Beauty.”

“Who?”  Phoebe asked.

“Emily, of course.” He rose and walked to the table and poured himself a glass of the fiery Scotch whisky.

“I am not sure I follow.” Noah sauntered over to refill his glass.

“Well we already have Little Red Riding Hood.”  He indicated to Phoebe. “I have Cinderella.”  He reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand.  “It only makes sense that Emily is Sleeping Beauty.”

“And why that character as opposed to any of the others in the book?” Taylor asked.

“Think on it.  Emily was resuscitating in the country.  Before then, she had been allowed to reach the age of three and twenty without so much as being in contact with an eligible male.  Dillon comes along, and I have no doubt he kissed her thoroughly, awakening her to possibilities she had never considered.”

“Oh, I see where this is going,” Phoebe interrupted enthusiastically.  “The prince secretly married Sleeping Beauty, keeping her away from his ogre of a mother.  When the woman learned of her presence, she tried to kill the young princess.”

“I, for one can clearly see Mrs. Chambers in the role of the ogre,” Noah agreed as he turned to come eye to eye with Dillon. “That was uncalled for. I apologize.”

“No need,” Dillon dismissed.  “When it comes to how I should marry I don’t think there are any lengths my mother won’t go to so that her goals are achieved. Though I would like to think she wouldn’t resort to murder, nothing else would surprise me.”

Janine reached over and took the book from Marius, studying it.  Slowly a sly smile came to her lips.  “Martin, I believe we are going to host a ball.”

Her husband groaned. “What kind of ball?”

Her smile grew wider.  “A masquerade.”

“What shall we do?” Sabrina asked enthusiastically

Marius turned to his wife.  “You shall do nothing.  You should not even be out of the house.”

The ladies rolled their eyes.  “These fashions allow a lady to go out in society much longer than before.  I will not sit idly by.”

“You won’t have to. I’m taking you to the country.”

“You wouldn’t.”  Sabrina came to her feet, suddenly angry.

“Calm yourself, wife.”  Marius smiled at Sabrina.  “My mother has mentioned wanting to have a house party, a small intimate gathering you see.  I thought you could help her prepare.”

“A small gathering?”  Sabrina asked, settling back down in her chair.  “A party that would include Dillon and Emily?”

“Who else?”  He grinned down at her.

Janine turned to Phoebe.  “Do you have any thoughts?”

“Yes, but the plans are not so well formed.  I do know it will allow for much more privacy between the two.”

This time it was Noah who objected.  “I will not have Emily ruined.”

Phoebe dismissed him with a wave of her hand.  “Oh posh.  If he were going to ruin her, he would have done so already.  They had a month together with a private cottage at their disposal.”

“Thank you, Phoebe.” Dillon inclined his head. “At least you have faith in me.”

Chapter 12

That afternoon Dillon called at the Ellings’ mansion, as he did every afternoon.  For a change, Emily didn’t leave the room upon his entrance.  Instead, she blushed lightly and returned her attention to her needlework.  Claresta’s court was smaller today, but Dillon waited them out, so he wouldn’t have to compete over the conversations.  Once the young bucks were finally gone, Dillon truly relaxed, especially since Emily was still in the room.  It was Her Grace who stood first.  “I think I will go above and rest.  We have a late evening tonight.”  She smiled at Emily as she left the room.

Claresta leaned forward to pour a cup of tea then set it back down.  “This is cold.  I’ll ask cook for a replacement.”  She stood and headed for the door.

“You could ring for a servant,” Emily hinted.

“Where is the fun in that?”  Claresta grinned mischievously as she carried the teapot out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving only a crack for anyone to look in.

Dillon didn’t hesitate a moment and quickly crossed the room to where Emily sat.  “Perhaps this’ll be easier than I thought.”  He brought his lips to hers and Emily returned it with vigor.  Too soon they heard Claresta calling to a servant as she returned to the room.  Quickly, the two separated, sharing sheepish grins when Claresta entered the room once more.

The next few days were spent in a similar manner.  Dillon continued to visit each day, where he was allowed less than five minutes alone with Emily.  Soon, she put aside her stitching and joined the group who had come to visit with Claresta.

The evenings were spent at balls, one following another or so it seemed.  Dillon made a point of dancing the first waltz with Claresta, to please his mother.  The last was with Emily.  He never danced the dinner waltz. Instead, he would arrange to be seated at the same table as Emily and Claresta.  Thus, pacifying his mother once again and able to spend time with the woman he truly wished to be with.

All in all, he enjoyed his time with Emily but it was becoming frustrating.  They were never given a chance to speak at length on any one subject, except the few minutes they were granted each afternoon.  He supposed they could have spent this time talking but why, when kissing was so much more enjoyable.  Still, he wished for more private time with her and was at a loss on how to achieve it.

* * *

The discontent of the situation ate away at Emily.  How did one ask friends to arrange private time with Dillon without ruining one’s reputation?  So, until she found the answer, she remained silent.  Those were her musings as she sat in the garden at a dull luncheon with Phoebe one afternoon.

“I don’t know what we’ll do.  Polly does fine with the twins, but she seems distracted at times and a good portion of the staff have today and tonight off.”

Emily tried to concentrate on what Phoebe was talking about and quit her woolgathering.

“It isn’t that Polly doesn’t adore them, I’m just not sure she is the best person to stay with them tonight.”

“Who is Polly?”

“One of our maids.  She has helped out before.”

“What about your nurse?”  .

“Stella has gone to visit her sister, who’s come down with an illness. Taylor and I have already promised to dine with the Marches.  We couldn’t renege and upset the numbers at this late hour.”

“You have a houseful of servants. Even with half of them gone you have an ample staff. I find it hard to believe you don’t have anyone to stay with the twins?”  Emily laughed.

“Oh, I know it’s silly but I hate to presume too much on them.  Polly was my only logical chose but she distracts easily.  You can’t be distracted and watch the twins at the same time.”

Emily thought it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, but Phoebe seemed genuinely concerned.  “I have no plans tonight. I could keep an eye on them.”  The Ellings were staying in and it wasn’t as though she could attend functions on her own.  Staying with the twins might actually be a nice change.

“Are you sure?” Phoebe asked hopefully. “No, I couldn’t. What am I thinking?  Forget I mentioned it.”

“My grand plan for this evening was reading a book.  Even though I have never spent any length of time with children, I can’t imagine it would be difficult.”

“Truly?”  Phoebe clutched Emily’s hands. She must be very desperate. “They won’t be a problem, I swear and I would be so grateful.  At least I know you won’t be distracted.  Taylor will come for you around seven thirty.  I won’t forget that you’ve done this for me.”

* * *

Dillon glanced up from his paper when Taylor sat in the chair across the table from him in Whites.

“What are your plans tonight?”

Dillon shrugged.  “I’m not sure.  The Ellings are staying in, leaving me with nothing to do.”  Actually, he planned on dining with Celia, but he couldn’t say as much to his friend. “Phoebe and I are dining at the Marches.”

Dillon raised an eyebrow, impressed that such an influential family would actually invite Taylor into their home.

“You could always come by the house if you’re really at a loss.”

“What would be the point if you aren’t going to be in?”  Dillon laughed.  At least he wasn’t desperate enough to wander around his friend’s houses when they weren’t at home.

“Because our nurse has gone to visit her sister and Phoebe is, at this moment, trying to convince Emily to watch the twins while we’re away.”

Dillon’s head snapped to attention.

Taylor leaned forward.  “Do not let Noah know about this.  He would kill both of us because of the impropriety.”

“My lips are sealed,” Dillon assured him, smiling.  “What time?”

“We leave for dinner at eight.”

“What time do the twins fall asleep?” He could still have dinner with Celia and spend the evening with her before calling on Emily.

“Usually around eight.”

Dillon couldn’t help but grin.  “Emily will be bored out of her skull without company.”

“Yes, that has been my concern all along.” Taylor laughed.

* * *

The twins already slept soundly within an hour of Emily’s arrival.  Sighing, she settled into the small sitting room off the nursery and picked up the book she’d brought along.  The door was open between the two rooms so she would be able to hear if they woke.  It wasn’t as though she would have been doing anything different at home; she’d just anticipated more activity.  Still, it was good she was here, in the event the twins did wake.  After meeting Polly, she could well understand Phoebe’s concern. It appeared Polly’s concentration was focused on one of the footmen.  Emily couldn’t blame her.  If Dillon were here, no doubt she would forget about the sleeping babes as well.

“I heard there was a lonely nursemaid in this house and came to see if I could provide some entertainment.”  Dillon leaned against the frame of the door.

Had she conjured him in her mind?  “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, someone mentioned, quite secretly, that I would be able to find you here this evening.  I was also led to believe the only disturbance we might have would be two young children.”  He smiled as he sauntered into the room.

“I can’t believe you would forgo an evening of entertainment among society to check on small children.”

“You’re correct.  It is their nursemaid who holds my interest.”

Emily couldn’t believe he was here and they were alone, almost.  They had hours before them with few disturbances.  Just like in the country. “Phoebe did this on purpose.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her to send the nurse away, and half the staff, so we could be alone.”  He took the book from her hand.  “What are you studying now?  I’ll need to prepare myself for future discussions.”  He lifted the book so he could read the title.  “A horrid novel?”  He laughed. “At least discussion on the merit of this work won’t be too taxing on my brain.”

Emily grabbed the book from him and set it on a small table.  “If you have only come to insult me, you may leave.”

“Insulting, hardly.”  Dillon settled into a chair next to hers.  “Less intimidating would be a more accurate description.”

Emily lifted an eyebrow.  “I intimidate you?”

“Your intelligence does, which I am ashamed to admit.”  He shrugged.

Emily couldn’t help but be thrilled by this admission.

“Your skills at fishing however, have a lot to be desired.”

“Nor do I plan on trying to improve them.”

“Do you study the markets?”  He wondered how far her interests ran. “Or estate management?”

“As in investments, crops, livestock and such?”

He nodded his head.

“No.  They are much too complicated.”

“Then at least there are a few mental challenges in which I could surpass you.”

Emily laughed.  “I am sure there a many.”

Dillon leaned forward, pulling her off her chair and onto his lap.  “I intend to learn what each and every one of them are,” he said before his lips descended toward hers.

Emily had been waiting for this moment.  Her opinions, attitude and dreams had altered since their discussion in the carriage and now she embraced every second they were given and didn’t regret any of it.  His sincerity in wanting to be with her pulled at her heart and she could deny him nothing.  Their time together was short, perhaps only a month or two, and she wasn’t going to waste any of it.

His kiss deepened and his hands ran though her hair, disengaging the pins.  Emily moaned and tilted her head.  She couldn’t resist him, nor could she think of a reason why she should.

* * *

The chair was confining, limiting his movement.  If Dillon had any sense, he would remain seated, but all sense disappeared where Emily was concerned.  Slowly he stood, cradling her in his arms until she slid down his body and broke their kiss.  Pulling away from Dillon, she walked into the nursery.  The twins lay side by side in identical cribs and were sleeping soundly.

Dillon came up from behind, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her body to his.  Emily relaxed her head back against his chest.

“I hate having to sneak around to be with you.”

“I know.”  Emily sighed.

“If only I could change my circumstances then this would not be necessary.”

Emily turned in his arms and looked up at him.  “Dillon, I understand completely.”

“I feel dishonorable,” he argued.

Emily placed a hand on his cheek. “You have explained the situation and have been honest about your intentions.  There is no dishonor in why you pursue me in this manner.”

“If only we didn’t have to hide.  If only.”

She stopped him with a kiss. “Dillon, we have discovered something rare.  Let’s just enjoy the time we’ve been given.  We don’t know what the future holds or if these feelings we have are fleeting.”

“They’re not fleeting,” Dillon insisted and took her hand in his before he pulled her back into the comfortable sitting room once again. The twins did not need either of them at the moment.  A warm fire burned and comfortable furniture had been arranged for a cozy atmosphere.  This must be where the nurse relaxed while seeing to the twins.  Her bedchamber lay past another door.  Dillon walked over and closed the door, hoping to forget a bed was so close.  Returning to Emily, he pulled her to sit beside him on the couch.  As they settled, his arm went around her and she settled her head on his shoulder.  For some time they sat in companionable silence, absorbing the feel of the other.  Dillon didn’t ever want to let her go.

He may have told himself that he wanted to see how they were with each other, in the real world, but knew it as a lie.  Simply put, he was in love with Emily and it mattered not where they were. The words he would not voice.  Not until the day he was secure that he could provide a future for them and ensure Celia’s protection.

The comfort he felt simply holding Emily soon began to diminish as his desire grew.  This was a dangerous situation and as much as he appreciated the opportunity he had to wonder if Taylor had considered the danger?

As if she felt his shifting mood, Emily turned her face toward Dillon.  Tonight would not be wasted.  Dillon claimed her lips and Emily eagerly accepted him, and her hands slid up to embrace his shoulders.  Dillon’s arms tightened around her, unable to get close enough.  Slowly his lips left her month and trailed across her cheek, to the pulse behind her ear and down.

Emily turned slightly, allowing him access to her sensitive neck, gripping his shoulders, before running the fingers of one hand through his hair.  He loosened her gown one button at a time and nudged it from her shoulders as he kissed his way to her breasts.

Emily pushed Dillon’s coat from his shoulders.  His hand left hers momentarily to shrug out of his coat while she loosened his cravat.  As enticing as the idea of his skin touching hers sounded, Dillon wasn’t about to undress further.  Disaster only lay in that direction.

Dillon returned his lips to hers as his fingers continued unbuttoning the back of her dress.  Emily’s fingers worked the buttons on this shirt.  Dillon knew he should stop her but he wanted to feel her hands upon him.  As long as his pants remained on, they would remain safe.

Emily’s dress gapped and fell down her arms as she pushed Dillon’s shirt open, pulling the tails from his trousers. She leaned forward and placed kisses along his collarbone as Dillon slid her arms from her gown and shoved it to her waist.  He did the same to her chemise, completely bearing her from the waist up. Dillon’s lips returned to hers and kissed her with raw passion, pulling her tight against him, her breasts flattened against his chest. Heat scorched through his veins at their naked contact.  Dillon bent her back until she was lying against the cushions, trailing his lips down her neck and to her cleavage before he shifted and took one peak into his mouth while his hand caressed the other, teasing the hard nipples.  Her hands gripped his shoulders as she arched against him.  Emily moaned and gripped him tighter as his hand slid lower, over her abdomen and down to her thigh.

Dillon had to touch her.  He wanted to bring her pleasure.  It was possible without ruining her completely.  As long as he kept his pants on, he reminded himself.  He lifted, pulling her gown from beneath him.  Once it was out of the way he wasted no time before slipping his hand up her leg. The softest silk of her stocking greeted his fingers.  Emily shifted in her growing excitement as his hand caressed her leg, climbing further, moaning as his hand touched her bare thigh.  Dillon withdrew from her breast and took her lips as his fingers found her damp mound.

* * *

Emily gasped at the unfamiliar intrusion.  No one had ever touched her in such a manner and she had no idea it could be so incredible.  Oh, she had read enough to know of the pleasures a woman’s body could feel, as well as a man’s.  It didn’t always involve mating either.  At this moment, she was grateful for the secret tomes she’d found.  Dillon would be shocked to know what she had been exposed to if Sappho had him upset.  Still, Emily could only be grateful for the exotic books because otherwise she would have been shocked at what he was doing.  The books were also explicit in how to give a man pleasure as well.

Thoughts of pleasuring Dillon flew from her mind as he deepened the caress.  He entered her first with one finger, then two. Emily was squirming with excitement and pleasure shot through her womb when his thumb found the most pleasurable spot.  At first she jerked at the touch and then her body began moving with a will of its own.

Dillon lifted his head and looked down at her, momentarily stopping any movement.  “I wish I could make love to you.”

Emil smiled weakly.  She understood what he wanted, she wanted the same but neither of them would allow matters to progress too far.  “You are.”

Dillon sighed and took her lips once again and continued his ministrations.  Soon, Emily couldn’t kiss him any longer.  The feelings he produced were far too intense to be able to concentrate on kissing.  She arched against his hand as he carried her over the edge. Emily shattered and cried out.

Nothing she had ever read had prepared her for this.  That was her first conscious thought as she began to recover.

Dillon leaned on one elbow, slightly smiling as he straightened her skirts. His look of tenderness stabbed at her heart and Emily vowed to bring him as much pleasure as he had just brought her.  Shifting, she sat up to face him.

“I want to make love to you.”

Dillon smiled sadly.  “I would like nothing better, but we cannot.”

“I want to bring you the same pleasure you’ve brought me,” she insisted.

“I appreciate the offer, but it wouldn’t be right, not yet.”

Emily stopped listening to him.  No doubt what she was considering was something no well-bread lady would comprehend. One hand began caressing his chest, while the other slipped up his thigh.  Dillon groaned, stopping her hands with his own.  She stiffed and looked up at him.  Disengaging her hands, she slipped them up his chest, her fingers caressing his nipples.  Dillon groaned again and moved to stop her.

“I want to bring you pleasure.  She leaned forward, bringing her body in contact with his aroused member.

“You can’t know what you’re suggesting.”  His voice was strangled with desire.

“Ah, but I do.”  A blush stained her cheeks.  “Not in practice, but I have read.”

“Sappho wasn’t that detailed,” Dillon argued.

“You should really read more Greek literature.”

“You can’t understand what you’re suggesting.”

“All I know is that I want to make love to you.  Can’t I use my hands as well? And, is that any different than what you have done to me?”

Dillon groaned out loud.  “As much as I wish this, I cannot allow you to.” Emily ignored him and began kissing his chest as she loosened his pants.

Finally, Emily freed him from his confines.  She had never seen a male member in the flesh and what she held in her hand was simply amazing.  The skin was soft, almost velvety, yet it was hard and unbendable beneath.  She experimented, sliding her hand up and down, grasping but not too tight, just as she’d read.  Dillon lifted his hips, moaning.  His reaction gave Emily confidence to continue.  Before she could move forward however, she needed better access. With her hands, she pulled his pants lower, over his buttocks, exposing him completely to her.

* * *

While one hand grasped him tightly, another hand began caressing the sacks below.  Dillon couldn’t believe she was doing this too him.  Where did she learn to cradle and caress him this way?  Was it simply instinct? Her thumb rolled over the very top, rubbing his moisture into the skin.  Her grip slowed then quickened, only to slow again. All the while, she kissed his chest and neck.  Dillon could do nothing for her.  He was too lost in the sensations and let her have her way.  No woman had ever pleasured him with her hands.  This was a novelty.  It wasn’t as though he’d never achieved his own release in this manner, but only in the most desperate times had he done this for himself.  This was so much better.  Whatever Emily had read, it had been detailed, or her fingers wouldn’t be creating such pleasures, or slipping behind the sacks to a most incredible sensitive spot he hadn’t known existed.  All too soon, he felt his release building.  He couldn’t stop her now, even if he wished.  To do so would invite excruciating pain.  Instead, he would allow this pleasure that she was so generously providing.  He would have liked to drag it out but that was impossible.  He had been denied for so long, and had lived in an almost constant state of arousal since meeting her that he would not deny this, even if it was ill-advised.

Dillon’s hand came around hers, tightening and increasing her motion.  She followed his lead.  As he began to erupt, he held himself against his body, his hand over hers; He spilled his seed, groaned and involuntarily jerked at the same time.  That had to have been one of the most potent releases in his memory.  If she could do that with her hand, what could she do with her mouth and body?

Dillon’s breathing and heartbeat finally began to slow. He knew he should move and certain matters needed to be seen to, but his energy was lacking.  Emily had completely drained him.  Finally, he was able to lift his head from the back of the couch and look at her.  She bit her bottom lip and a creased formed on her brow.    Hadn’t she known what to expect?  Well, it was certainly no secret now.  “Could you do me a favor?” he asked his voice still husky in the aftermath of passion.

Emily looked up at him. Her mouth twisted into a smile as if she was very pleased with herself.  She should be, Dillon decided.

“Could you retrieve one of the twins’ nappies?  I’m sure it won’t be missed.”

Emily scampered into the twins’ bedchamber to emerge a moment later with what he requested.  Her face turned bright red and Emily turned her back to allow him privacy.  Dillon merely chuckled and set to putting his person back in order.

When Emily turned back around, her dress was once again in place as were Dillon’s shirt and pants.  Silently, she presented him her back and allowed him to finish buttoning her.

Dillon settled Emily on the couch. “I’ll be back in a moment.”  He left the nursery floor and went down to Taylor’s chamber.  He knew that a bottle of wine and two glasses had been put in there in case he and Emily wanted them, and Dillon certainly needed a drink.

Upon his return, Emily was just where he had left her, a contented smile on her lips.  He settled beside her after pouring them each a glass of wine.  This was the first time he could honestly say he was completely relaxed since meeting her.  Dillon had fantasized often about what he wished he could do with and to Emily.  He never dreamed she would do what she just had. The only possible way he could achieve a higher pleasure would be to make love to her, claim her completely.  After what they just shared, and having witnessed her passionate response to his touch, Dillon knew he could never let her go.  He had to find a way to make it possible without ruining everything else that was important to him.

Emily sighed and snuggled against him while sipping her wine.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, enjoying the weight of her head on his shoulder.  Soon she grew heavy and Dillon realized she’d fallen asleep.  How could he blame her?  He could easily sleep now as well.  Gently, he took the wine glass from her hand before it spilled and placed it on the table.  Pulling Emily closer to his body and watched the fire.

* * *

Dillon didn’t want to wake.  He was comfortable and relaxed.  Emily was in his arms and all was right with the world.  He wished whoever was bothering him would just go away.  A voice intruded on his conscious.  “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Sleeping Beauty is Emily, not Dillon.”  He heard Phoebe scold Taylor.

Slowly, and against his better judgment, Dillon opened his eyes.  The two stood before him, smiling.  “Who is Sleeping Beauty?” he asked, trying to focus his thoughts.

With a tilt of his head, Taylor indicated to Emily, who remained asleep with her head on his chest.  Dillon smiled down at her, his memories coming back. Gently shaking her shoulder, Emily began to wake.  She grumbled something and tried to burrow back against his shoulder, but Dillon shook her a little more.  Emily simply turned her face further into this chest.

“Perhaps you should kiss her.  It worked in the story,” Taylor suggested with a laugh.

That wasn’t a bad idea.  Tipping Emily’s chin he lifted her face and placed a chaste kiss on her incredible mouth.

Emily’s eyes fluttered open slowly.  When she finally focused on Dillon, her mouth broke into a smile, her eyes shown with love.  Dillon felt as if he could see to her soul.  Never before had he been given the advantage of being with her when all her defenses were down.  Though she had never voiced exactly how she felt, the truth was in her eyes.  Once again, Dillon vowed to make their relationship and future work.

“We’re no longer alone,” he whispered and signaled with his eyes.  Still slightly drugged with sleep, Emily looked to where he indicated.  Standing before them were Taylor and Phoebe.  Emily leapt to her feet, hastily straightening her gown. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Are the twins well? I didn’t hear them wake.” She turned to rush toward the nursery.

“Emily, the twins are fine. They rarely wake at night. I just wanted someone here in case they did.”

Emily kept glancing back toward the room.

“Even our nurse sleeps, I promise.”

* * *

Emily was mortified more at being found sleeping on Dillon’s shoulder. Thank goodness no one mentioned it.  She could be ruined for this.  She prayed Taylor wasn’t thinking along those lines, especially since he had arranged this rendezvous.

“Why don’t you escort Sleeping Beauty home,” Taylor suggested while Dillon slipped into his jacket. Emily noted he shoved the soiled nappy further into his inside pocket.  It would not do for Phoebe or Taylor to discover that item.  She would be ruined for sure.

“I believe I will.”  He smiled.  “Thank you,” he whispered as he kissed Phoebe on the cheek as he took his leave.

Emily just wanted her exit to be as quick as possible.  Could she ever face those two again?

Once the carriage was on its way, Dillon pulled Emily against him.  “I have an excellent idea.”

Emily tilted her head, looking up at him.

“You should go as Sleeping Beauty.”

“Where?”  The sleep had not entirely cleared from her mind.

“The masquerade Janine is throwing.”

What was he talking about?  She really just wanted to return to sleep and the rocking carriage wasn’t helping her.

“Janine, the masquerade ball,” Dillon reminded her with a smile.  “Everyone is to dress as a character from a fairy tale.”

Slowly, Emily was finally focusing. “You think I should go as Sleeping Beauty?”  The idea seemed absurd.

“It would please me greatly” he pleaded.

Emily couldn’t say no to his request, nor the look in his eyes.  In the end, she capitulated, wondering how on earth her costume would look.

Chapter 13

Emily’s nerves increased with every tick of the clock as it came closer to time she would need to prepare for the masquerade ball.  Why had she ever let Dillon talk her into this costume?  Janine thought it was an excellent choice.  Even Her Grace thought it delightful and helped plan the costume with the seamstress.  Regardless, Emily still had her misgivings.  Claresta would be attending as Cinderella pursuant to Sabrina’s suggestion, who wished she could attend. Instead of a costume fit for Cinderella at the ball, Claresta dressed as the Cinderella who cleaned.  The costume was still made of the finest material, as were the silk and satin patches mismatched on the skirt.  She even wore a mop cap over her hair.

At least Claresta wasn’t wearing anything scandalous, unlike herself.  Emily wore a pale gown of the finest satin.  Though the material revealed nothing, it was designed to look like a flowing night shift, with full, bellowing sleeves and a ruffled bottom hem.  The neck was scooped with a matching ribbon, tied to hold the neckline in place.  At least it gave that illusion, but the ribbon was only for appearances.  Over the dress was a velvet robe, not unlike one a lady would wear in her boudoir.  Though the clothing was completely modest, Emily couldn’t help but feel like she would be parading around in her night clothes.

To complete the effect, the duchess had wanted Emily to wear her hair loose, as one would in bed. They finally compromised with Emily agreeing to one braid, tied with a matching ribbon.  Lastly, she’d don a satin mask to match the gown.

Emily had finished making a final assessment of her appearance when Her Grace knocked and entered.  She held a box, tied with a ribbon, which also matched her gown.

“This was just delivered for you, dear.”

Emily accepted it and opened the card first.

Please wear this tonight lest you prick your finger and fall into a deep sleep.

Emily smiled and handed the card to a curious Her Grace.  Inside the box lay a gold thimble, encrusted with rubies and diamonds.  A delicate chain was attached so she could wear it around her neck.  Emily gasped at the extravagant gift and held it up, admiring the play of light on the stones.

What was he thinking? A gentleman did not give a gift such as this to anyone unless she was his wife.  He was courting scandal.  What if someone found out?  “Should I accept this?”

“Yes, dear.  I think you should.”  The duchess encourage after a moment of thought.  “Besides, who else needs a thimble?”

Emily turned toward the mirror and clasped the necklace around her neck.  The thimble lay on her chest, directly above the ribbon.  It would be easily seen by everyone.  It was improper for her to accept such a gift from him, but Emily couldn’t bring herself to reject it.  Besides, he probably had it made special for her, and it would be something she would always treasure.

* * *

The ball was a crush and a huge success.  Everyone had dressed as Janine requested.  The married ladies were either queens, wicked and nice, or fairy godmothers.  The unmarried ladies were some version of a princess.  There were several Cinderellas, but Emily appeared to be the only Sleeping Beauty

Dillon found them as soon as they entered.  As was his habit, he first took Claresta’s card and requested the dinner dance.  Noah did the same with Emily and the two then exchanged cards.  Noah selected a country dance with Claresta and Dillon claimed a waltz for later in the evening.

Emily hated having to wait that long to be in his arms but knew appearances must be kept since his mother was also in attendance. “Thank you for the gift.” She leaned forward and whispered.

“Rubies suit you.” He smiled down at her before he leaned close and whispered, “In retrospect perhaps that costume wasn’t such a good idea.”

Oh dear, she should have gone with her instinct and worn something more appropriate.

“Seeing you in a nightdress gives me all kinds of wicked thoughts about you being in my bed.”

Her face heated and she feared it would burst into flames. She couldn’t believe he just whispered such scandalous words. What if someone overheard?  She quickly looked around. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to them.  Dillon stepped back, gave a slight bow and turned on his heel and walked away.

With masks in place, people tended to be freer in their behavior and Emily’s mood was light as well.  Her dance card was completely full within a half hour of her arrival, but those other gentlemen didn’t matter to her in the least.  She was simply glad that she’d be occupied until her allotted time with Dillon.

There was further reason why she was in a festive mood.  Tomorrow they left for the country party.  It would be a small gathering, which included Dillon, but not his parents.  Emily looked forward to the five days she would have among friends without completely having to hide her odd relationship with Dillon.

* * *

The next dance was the waltz with Emily and Dillon began to make his way through the crowd to reach her side in time.  He was halfway to her when his mother grabbed his arm.  He couldn’t believe she waylaid him.

“I’ve promised this dance to someone.”

“Yes, I know.”  Mrs. Chambers did not relinquish her hold.

“It is the height of rudeness to leave her standing.”  Dillon tried to pull away but her grip was like a vice around his arm.  Had she always been this strong?

“Miss Frasier is not my concern, nor should she be yours.”

Something in his mother’s tone warned that he should forgo the dance and listen to her. Hopefully Emily would understand.

Slowly, his mother led him around the perimeter of the ballroom until they reached an almost vacant spot.  All the while, Dillon grew increasingly impatient while he waited for his mother to speak.

* * *

Emily’s heart sank when she saw Dillon’s mother grab his arm and turn him in the opposite direction.  Clearly, she wouldn’t get her dance this evening, so she made her way to the retiring room.  If she couldn’t dance with Dillon, she didn’t want to dance with anyone.  Besides, she needed to sit somewhere cool and quiet. The pain at the back of her head began an hour ago and was slowly creeping its way to her eyes.  She prayed she wasn’t developing a megrim. They were to travel tomorrow.  She was just coming back through the doorway when she saw Mrs. Chambers and Dillon stop behind some potted palms to her left.  She knew better than to eavesdrop, but couldn’t help herself and stepped back into the shadows of the hall where she could observe and listen.

“You wished to speak with me, Mother?” Dillon asked as if he was tired of waiting.

“I am concerned,” she began.  “Your courtship with Lady Claresta seems to be progressing well.”

“Then why the concern?”

“If you don’t step it up a bit, someone else may secure her affection before you.”

Dillon chuckled.  “I doubt that’s going to happen.”

“Don’t be so sure.  You know what I expect, Chadwick.”

“I’m well aware of what you expect of me, Mother.”

Emily had never heard such bitterness in his tone.

“Oh, I’ve begun to wonder.”  She leveled her eyes on his.  “Your interest in the duke’s ward has not gone unnoticed.”

Emily stiffened at the reference to her.

“Her name is Miss Emily Frasier.”

“I’m well aware of who she is.  What I would like to know is what is she to you?”

“She is both a friend of Lady Claresta, myself and a number of my friends.”

Mrs. Chambers narrowed her eyes.  “Don’t treat me as a fool.  I’ve watched the two of you together and apart.  You watch her, she watches you.”

“What would you have me say, Mother?  I’ve already confessed a friendship and fondness.”

“I want you to assure me that she will not do, no matter how strong the attraction.”

“Will not do?”

His mother stared at him sternly, “As . . .,” she prompted.

Dillon finally finished the sentence for her.  “As a wife. I already know this. Why do you persist in reminding me?”

Emily felt the breath leave her lungs.  She always knew their relationship was short lived due to circumstances.  It still hurt terribly to hear Dillon admit he could never think of her as a wife.

Mrs. Chambers smiled.  “I’m glad we understand one another.  Do what you will with Miss Frasier, but you won’t marry her.”

“No?”  Dillon questioned.

“A gentleman takes her kind as a light of love.”

“Her father was a professor.”  Dillon reminded his mother, anger dripped from his words.

“Then she should hunt among her own kind if she wants a husband.  Though I’m happy to know that’s all she is to you, I think you shouldn’t be so obvious in front of Lady Claresta.”

“What exactly are you implying, Mother?”

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.  You plan on making Miss Frasier your mistress, if you haven’t already.”

Emily stumbled and had to hold onto the wall for support.  Did he actually plan to do that to her?  No, he wouldn’t, would he?

“My relationship and plans for Miss Frasier are none of your concern.”

“Oh, I should think not.  A son should not discuss his mistress with his mother.”

“You started this conversation.  Not I.”

“Now that we have set one concern aside we can address the other.”

“What would that be?”  Dillon ground out.

“Your marriage.”

Dillon stared at his mother for a moment before he smiled.  “For your information, the Duke of Ellings has granted me an audience.  We will speak this weekend and I hope he gives his blessing.”

Mrs. Chambers practically jumped for joy and Emily slid into a chair.

“If all goes well, and I am correct in his approval, there should be an announcement when I return to Town.”

“Oh, Chadwick, I am so happy.”  Tears actually formed in his mother’s eyes.

“Not a word, Mother,” he warned.

“How can you ask me to be quiet about this?”

“Ellings has not yet granted his permission, nor have I had a chance to speak with the lady directly.”

“But. . .”

“No one, Mother.  If I get wind that you have spoken to a single soul, I will withdraw the offer before it is made.  Do you understand?”

“You wouldn’t be so foolish?”  She scoffed.

“All my life I have done as you wished.  This will be done on my terms or not at all.”  His tone was cold and harsh.

The joy left Mrs. Chambers momentarily.  “I suppose I can keep your secret until you return.”

Dillon smiled at her indulgently.  “Thank you.  You’ll see the wisdom of remaining silent.”

With that, he turned and left his mother.

* * *

Emily couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly.  She deserved to be hurt for listening to a private conversation.  Still, she needed to hear to prepare herself.  She would never have believed Dillon would ask for Claresta’s hand.  He had said as much.  Had he been playing a game all along?  One that started at the cottage?  She couldn’t believe it of him.  No, she wouldn’t until she heard it from Dillon directly.

By the time she returned to the ballroom, the unmasking had occurred, not that anyone’s identity had been a real surprise.  Claresta stood with her mother and father.  Dillon was leaning over, talking to her quietly.  Emily felt her heart in her throat.

In the spirit of the evening, Janine and Martin requested another waltz.  As the chords struck, Emily watched as Dillon led Claresta to the floor.  It was their second dance, second waltz of the evening.  This couldn’t be happening.  Had she been such a fool?  Had Claresta lied about her feelings to spare her?  Emily no longer knew what to think.  She just wanted to leave.

“We were looking for you, dear.”  Her Grace approached.

“I was in the retiring room.”

“Mr. Chambers was wishing to apologize for missing your dance.  He said his mother cornered him.”

“Yes, I saw.”  Emily smiled weakly.

“What is it, dear? You don’t look very well.”  The older woman asked with concern.

“I have the beginnings of a headache.  If you don’t mind, I would like to leave.”

“Oh, dear.  Yes, of course.”  Her Grace turned to her husband.  “Could you see Emily home?  She’s beginning to get a headache.”

Concern marred the duke’s face.  “Of course.  I’ll return for you and Claresta after Emily is settled.”

* * *

Dillon was exasperated.   First, he had to miss his waltz and talk to his mother.  Then when he finally had a chance to return to Emily, she wasn’t there and no one was sure where she’d gone.  When another waltz was announced he had hoped she would appear so all was not lost.  But, she did not.  Since Emily wasn’t there, he asked Claresta.  He knew exactly what everyone would believe when they saw them waltz a second time but didn’t care.

At Claresta’s prompting, he explained his recent conversation with his mother.  “Are you really going to speak with father this weekend?” she asked hopefully as they passed his mother.

Dillon smiled down at her and winked.

When he returned Claresta to her mother’s side, Emily was still not present.

“She has gone home,” Her Grace quickly explained.  “She felt the beginnings of a headache.”

The smile fell from Claresta’s face.  “Oh, no.  We leave tomorrow.”

“Let’s just hope she recovers quickly.”

Disappointment filled Dillon.  This magical night was now at an end as far as he was concerned and he hadn’t been allowed anytime with Emily.  He just hoped her headache would be gone by morning.  At least they’d have the time he needed over the next few days.  It was the only thought that kept his mood from completely turning black.

Since there was nothing he could do, Dillon buried his disappointment and sauntered over to his friends. When they asked after Emily, he advised them of her condition.  Only Noah reacted.  “I hope it isn’t a bad episode.”

Dillon wondered why there was such concern.  He would never wish Emily harm and he certainly wished she was by his side and not suffering, but a headache wasn’t exactly life threatening either.

Chapter 14

Dillon had paced the front parlor, waiting for the past three hours. He hadn’t overly worried the night before, but what if Emily had taken seriously ill?  Several people had been afflicted with a severe fever recently; some of them had even died.  Until he saw her, he couldn’t relax.  If she were ill, he would leave and go to her.  He kept telling himself that if the Ellings family were not coming, a message would have been sent and already arrived.

He’d had such grand hopes for this weekend.  He would have time alone with Emily and an appointment with the duke.  His plans began to dissipate when his mother arrived.  She was not to have been a guest, but somehow managed an invitation from Lady Wilkes.  How did she even manage an invitation on such short notice? The two women barely knew one another.  Marius should have warned his mother.  Now, the very person he did want to see had not arrived. As the carriage wheels could be heard on the drive, Dillon walked to the foyer with Marius.  It had to be them. They were the only ones left to arrive.  Claresta entered the house first and turned to wait for the others, worry wrinkled her brow.  Next came the Duke of Ellings, his arm was around a very pale and weak Emily.  Her Grace hurried after and approached Marius with none of the polite greetings.  “Could you show us to Emily’s room?”

Marius quickly obliged and turned toward the stairs with Ellings and Emily following. As they reached the first steps, Emily raised her foot and would have collapsed if Ellings hadn’t been holding her.  He turned back to Dillon.  “Can you carry her?”

Without thought, Dillon scooped Emily into his arms and followed Marius to her assigned chamber. His shock was beginning to wear off as he realized that Emily was very sick indeed.

The Duchess of Ellings hurried in after them, whispering instructions, “Pull the curtain, and find a chamber pot. I need cloths, cold water and a maid.”

Dillon gently lowered Emily to the bed.  She pulled a pillow over her head and face without looking at him.

“Is it the fever?”  He couldn’t lose her just as he was about to finally have her.

Her Grace looked at him for the first time.  “Oh, no.  It is a megrim.  Poor dear suffers from them a few times a year. They completely incapacitate her.”

“How long do they last?”  He did not like that Emily was in pain but was grateful it wasn’t the fever.

“A day or two, at the most,” Her Grace quietly assured him before turning to Marius.  “I’ll need weak tea and some bread sent up.  You gentlemen will need to leave so we can get Emily settled.”

Dillon found himself standing in the hall with Marius and Ellings before he knew what had happened.  Vaguely he recalled saying he wanted to stay with her.  Her Grace said it was a nice thought, but refused him.

* * *

It was dinner time before Claresta joined the others.  She quickly assured them that Emily was resting peacefully and that the medicine was helping her sleep.  Dillon wished he could question Claresta but didn’t want to raise his mother’s suspicions further.  It was bad enough she already believed Emily to be his mistress.

“I’ll sit with her after dinner,” Her Grace offered.

“Thank you, Mother.  I’ll stay with her tonight.”

“I could have a bed put in the room if you would like,” Lady Wilkes offered.

“Oh, no, that isn’t necessary.”  Claresta smiled.  “The chase is quite comfortable.  Besides, I don’t want to risk anything disturbing Emily.”

“Surely, a servant can sit with her,” Dillon’s mother finally voiced.

Claresta turned toward Mrs. Chambers.  “I’ve sat with Emily through these spells for the last two years.  She may need me and I want to be there.”

“Surely, there is nothing you can do that time won’t heal.”

“Perhaps you don’t realize this, Mrs. Chambers, but I consider Emily a very dear friend, almost a sister. I would lie on a cold stone floor if necessary, but I won’t leave her alone this night. Not after she has been ill all day.”

Wisely, his mother said nothing further and dinner was announced.

* * *

It was late morning before Claresta appeared below stairs again.  The house party had gone as planned.  The only minor disturbance was the absence of Emily.  Dillon didn’t even try to enjoy himself.  The guests that didn’t know his true motivation simply believed Dillon was in poor humor because Claresta’s attention was elsewhere.

The moment Claresta came down the stairs; Dillon pulled her into the study and closed the door.

“How is Emily?” he asked anxiously.

“Better. The pain is lessening. If this continues as the others have, the pain will be gone by dinner.”

“Will she join us then?”  Dillon asked hopefully.

Claresta chuckled and walked toward the settee.  “No.  She will sleep. The headaches completely wear her out.  After a full night’s rest, she should be up and around tomorrow, but don’t expect her to participate in many activities.”

Dillon, who had been pacing, whirled around and started toward Claresta.  “You can’t know how relieved I am.”  His toe caught the end of the table and before he could catch himself, he fell, landing ungracefully into Claresta, who fell back onto the settee.  His hand rested on one breast with the rest of her body pinned beneath his.  Shocked and horrified they simply stared at the other before he quickly moved away.  “I am so sorry.”

Before he was upright and on the floor, his mother barreled through the door. “Oh, Chadwick, I am so happy.”

Claresta turned stunned eyes on his mother.

“Mother,” Dillon warned and stepped forward.

“What is going on in here?”  His Grace asked as he came into the room.

Smiling brightly, Mrs. Chambers turned toward him. “Our children just became betrothed.”

Ellings was not smiling and turned to Dillon. “Is this so, young man?”

Dillon cleared his throat.  “Perhaps now is a good time for our discussion.”  What was he to do now?

“I should say so,” Ellings barked before he turned to Mrs. Chambers. “Leave us.”

“But, Your Grace, this does involve my son.”

“If what you say is true, his future is secure.  However, as it is my daughter, I would like to speak with them, alone.”

Dillon’s mother curtseyed and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Chapter 15

Emily woke slowly.  She didn’t feel any pain, but knew from past experience sometimes it lay in wait for a movement or for light to hit before attacking.  She cracked her eyes, ready to close them at the slightest hint of discomfort.  As the room came into view and she focused, she felt nothing.  Turning her head to the clock, she noted it was still early morning and doubted her maid would be in anytime soon to assist her.  Still, if the headache was really and truly gone, Emily wanted to be up and moving.  Two entire days of this long weekend had been wasted already and she wasn’t about to let another moment slip.  There were issues to be addressed, and what better time than in the morning before others awoke?  Hopefully, she could learn which room was occupied by Dillon, because she had a few things to say to him.

The halls were completely empty when she left her chamber.  Without knowing which room Dillon had been assigned, Emily was left no choice but to search out a servant and discretely find out the information. There were few servants moving about this early and Emily suspected that most of the maids and footmen were in the kitchen preparing for the day.  Just as she was about to head for the kitchens a cold voice stopped her.

“So, you have recovered.  I am sure Lady Claresta will be pleased.  The poor child has been so worried about you.”

Emily slowly turned to face the last person she expected to see this weekend.  “Good morning, Mrs. Chambers.”

“It is a good morning, isn’t it?”  The woman was actually smiling and talking directly to her which made Emily extremely suspicious.  “Have you talked to Lady Claresta this morning or yesterday perhaps?”

“I haven’t spoken with her for two days.”

The woman’s smile spread further on her face.  “Then you don’t know the good news.”

A sick feeling developed in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with her earlier headache. “News?”

“Yes,” the woman answered gleefully.  “Lady Claresta and my son, Chadwick, are betrothed.  It happened suddenly yesterday.  Of course, it came as no surprise to me.  He knows his duty.”

Emily fought the waves of dizziness that threatened.  Dillon had become betrothed to Claresta?  How?  Why?  Oh, she never expected that he would marry her, but Dillon had assured her that Claresta was not his choice in a wife?  Had she and Claresta both been fooled by him?

The smile Lady Chambers bestowed on Emily was no longer happy, but more triumphant and cool.  “You didn’t think he would actually offer for you, did you?”

Emily shook her head.  She wouldn’t give this woman the satisfaction of knowing how badly this turn of events pained her.  “No.”

“Good.  I know that you two have spent innumerable hours alone together and my son may care for you for some odd reason but there is only one relationship he would ever consider entering into with you.”  She looked Emily up and down.  “I suppose that has already occurred, has it not?”

Rage burned insider her.  How dare this woman insinuate that she and Dillon were lovers?  Of course, they had been more intimate then an unmarried couple should be, but that was no one’s business.  “I can assure you that your son and I are friends, only.”  Emily believed she knew Dillon at least well enough that he wouldn’t have confessed the details of their relationship to his mother.

“I’m sure his intention is for a much closer relationship.”  The woman chuckled.  “It is why he purchased the cottage I have been told.  He knew he would marry without love so he intends to put his love in the cottage to visit at his pleasure.”

Memories flooded Emily’s mind.  Dillon had told her that Chadwick, before she knew the two were the same, planned on bringing a lady to the cottage.  He hadn’t disputed her suggestion that it would be a trysting place.  Poor Claresta.  What kind of life she would have with her husband constantly visiting his mistress, leaving her alone in London?  “Excuse me; I need to locate my maid.”  Emily had to get away from that woman before she revealed how shaken she truly was.

There had to be some mistake, Emily tried to convince herself as she paced back and forth in her room.  Had he been leading her on all this time?  The room began to close in on her and Emily found it difficult to breath.  She needed to talk to either Dillon or Claresta to find out the truth.  What if it was the truth?  No, she had to find out whether the betrothal was fact or fiction before talking to either one of them.  With a brave face, she exited her room once again and found her way to the breakfast room.  She didn’t need to enter to find out the truth.  Though she couldn’t hear the exact conversations going on, the word betrothal and both of the parties names were mentioned frequently.  She was such a fool to have trusted him.

Emily backed away and turned toward the sitting room, hoping it was unoccupied.  Unfortunately, voices could be heard from that room as well.  She would have turned and gone in another direction if she hadn’t recognized the voices of both Dillon and Claresta.  Knowing it would probably kill her to hear them discuss their betrothal and wedding plans, but unable to turn away, Emily stayed rooted in the spot listening and peaked through the crack in the door.

Dillon paced back and forth, running his fingers through his hair.  “One of us must explain to Emily before she hears it from someone else.”

“I wanted to this morning but she was already gone from her room when I checked on her.  It seems that is all the entire household is talking about.”

“Did you check the breakfast room?”

“Yes, but she wasn’t there either.  Perhaps she’s gone for a walk.  She often does after having one of her episodes.  The air helps to clear her mind,” Claresta offered hopefully.  “She has just got to understand.  It was never my intention to hurt her.”

“Nor mine.”

Emily had heard all she needed.  They were betrothed, though she still didn’t understand the how and it really didn’t matter.  Unable to listen to them further, she walked quietly, but quickly down the hall and exited the front door.  She needed to get as far away from everyone as possible.  If she could, she would take the carriage back to London this instant.  What a coward she had become.

* * *

Dillon walked the grounds, looking for Emily.  The fact that she seemed to have disappeared convinced him that she must have heard at least one version of his betrothal to Lady Claresta.  He couldn’t blame her for being hurt.  He would be livid.  If only he could make her understand.  Didn’t she realize he couldn’t live without her?  He came to that realization over the past weeks, but when he was faced with the possibility of losing her entirely yesterday, he realized he could not.  He would do everything in his power to keep her by his side.  At least the Duke of Ellings had offered to help him with one obstacle and Dillon was prepared to ask his help over the second one.

He found her walking along the furthest side of the lake.  Her forlorn look answered his question.  Did she really think he had intended to compromise Claresta?

She slowly turned and looked at him. Her face was pale, eyes dull and mouth drawn tight.

“You’ve heard already,” he confirmed.

“Yes.” Her tone was cold, hard.  “I simply would like to know why.”  Following the question, she turned her back on him and walked closer to the lake.

“The answer responds more to how.”  Dillon wished she would look at him, but knew it was her manner to avoid eye contact until she had control of her emotions.  “I know it was foolish to be alone with Claresta, but we needed to talk privately.”

“Go on.”

“I had been so worried about your headaches, but she assured me that you usually recovered within a day or two.  It was killing me not to be able to go to you and see for myself, so I was relying on reports from her.”

“And?”

“I was also frustrated,” he admitted.  “I had hoped to spend a great deal of time with you during this house party.  There is so much we need to talk about and much I need to explain before our relationship could proceed further.”

“It is probably better that we didn’t.”

“Don’t say that,” he admonished. “Claresta was going to find ways you and I could be together, without my mother learning.”  He had been pacing behind her while he spoke and stopped, to address her.  “I didn’t know my mother would be here.  She wasn’t supposed to be here, which has really complicated matters.”

“Yet, here she is.” Emily sighed.

“You need to understand that it was never our intention to be discovered as we were, but my mother having learned we were alone together, couldn’t resist interrupting us.”  Emily turned and looked up at him.  “Claresta was standing by the chaise and I was pacing before her, much as I am doing now.”  He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  “My foot caught the leg of the table because I was too frustrated to pay attention to what I was doing.  The next thing I knew I was on top of Claresta and my mother waltzed into the room.  Of course she was entirely shocked at my behavior, which lasted only a moment before she started telling everyone of our betrothal.”

“I see.”  Emily turned and strolled along the lake.

Dillon relaxed.  Apparently she hadn’t heard the worst of the rumors and he was actually able to tell her the truth of the matter.  “I was afraid you would be more angry.”

Emily shrugged, not looking at him. “We cannot always choose our own fate.  Often circumstances are out of our control.”

“Yes, but we can alter it at times,” Dillon insisted.

“Why?”

“Why what?”  Dillon didn’t understand what else she needed to know about the embarrassing situation.

“Why all this time secretly courting me when you knew your mother would never approve? It is something I thought about while I lay upstairs these past few days.  I never understood the hold she had on you.  I would like to know.”

“It begins with my mother’s expectations, which you are aware of.”

Emily nodded her head, indicating she understood.

“I know I must appear to be a very weak man to you.  How many men of my age would carry on a relationship with a lady, secretly because he feared the repercussions of his mother?”

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to please your parents and maintain peace within the family.”  Emily picked a purple wild flower and twirled it between her fingers.

Dillon barked out laughter and Emily turned to him, shocked by his outburst.  “Believe me, if my reasons were only due to my mother’s happiness or my own, I would have openly pursued you and not let anything stand in my way.  In fact, I would have never let you leave the cottage.  We could have married in the village and never set foot in London.”

“Then why the secrets?”

Dillon sighed and turned serious. “There are two very good reasons, though you may not agree. The first being money.  My parents hold the purse strings. In fact, they own my townhouse and pay my servants. The only thing that is truly mine is the cottage,” he began to explain.  “Ever since I reached my majority, I’ve tried to save as much of my quarterly allowance as possible.  Last year I purchased the cottage, which depleted my savings significantly.”

Emily nodded. It was the only indication she was still listening to him.  She may act like she understood, but no doubt she was still a bit hurt and angry.  He couldn’t blame her, but at least now she would understand his behavior and the necessary decisions.

“Earlier this year, before I met you, I sank most of the remainder into investments.  Unfortunately, I won’t realize the profits for some time.  My next quarterly is not due for two weeks and at this moment I haven’t a shilling to my name.  If I don’t marry someone they approve, all funds are cut off.”

She turned suddenly.

“That problem has recently been solved with an agreement between Ellings and myself.”

“I had no idea.”

“Finances were not my main hurdle.  I planned on taking a position with someone, which doesn’t bother me.”

Dillon stood silently, thinking about how to present the other reason.  This would be the test of how Emily felt and if she would be willing to remain with him.  “But the most important reason was for my daughter.”

Emily’s head snapped around suddenly.  “You fathered a child out of wedlock?”  The disapproving shock on her face hastened Dillon to continue.

“No.  I am a widower.”

“I’m sorry. You never even hinted at such an obligation.  Why?”

He should have known she would demand the entire story.  “When I was seventeen, I visited my great uncle one summer.  He lived north near the border to Scotland.  I met a young lady, and thought I’d fallen in love.  Perhaps I had.”  He wondered quietly, letting his mind drift for a moment.  “We met often.  Her father was the local magistrate and I knew my parents would never approve, but at the time I didn’t care.  All I knew was that I needed to be with Rose every moment possible.”  It really wasn’t much different than how he felt about Emily, but maturity had given him control.  “Matters of the heart are more impatient when one is young I suppose.”

“You married?”  Emily prompted.

“Sooner than anyone would have anticipated.  In fact, I hadn’t even been thinking about marriage.”

“Compromised again?”  Emily asked with bitter humor.

“It wasn’t like that.  Rose and I, well, we found ourselves anticipating vows I had not even thought of.  I knew instantly that when I was older, I would indeed marry her.  A gentleman does not thoroughly ruin a lady without marrying her.  It just wasn’t done.  We made a pact that when I was old enough, we would wed.”

“When was that?”  Emily asked.

“Two months later,” Dillon stated flatly.  “It never occurred to us that the one time we let our passions get out of control a child would be conceived.”

“Oh, dear.”

“We were married quickly and quietly and I was actually happy, if not feeling some pressure though.  My parents were another matter altogether.”

“I would imagine so.”

“They refused to acknowledge the marriage and the child.  In fact, they would only support my family if I returned to school and stayed away from Rose.  What choice did I have?  Without funds, I couldn’t take care of my wife and child,” Dillon defended.  “I was also so terribly young and afraid of the responsibilities I now faced.”

“Did Rose stay with her family?”

“Yes.  Our daughter was born, but I was in school and not allowed to leave to visit.”

“How awful for you.”

“It was.  Do you remember when your father arranged for a visit to some Roman ruins when you were about ten?”

“Yes.  He’d never done anything like that before.  We had a marvelous time though.”  She paused and looked at him.  “You weren’t with us.”

“No.”  He smiled.  “My parents thought I was.  Your father arranged it so I could return to Rose and see my child.”

“It was so like my father to do something of that sort.”

“She was so small and beautiful.  Rose had named her Celia,” Dillon continued quietly. His mind returned to that time and place.  “Rose was still weak from the birth and recovering slowly.”

Emily took a few steps toward him.

“My parents were still upset and began petitioning for an annulment,” he stated bitterly.  “I wrote and assured Rose that it was not my wish and that I would fight it with everything I had, but we both knew that at seventeen I had very little power.”

“Did they succeed?”

“I spoke to your father.  He knew a number of powerful men at the time and was able to hold off any ruling without my parents ever knowing that I was behind the fight.  I couldn’t openly defy them even then because I needed my quarterly to provide for my wife and child.  I was torn constantly.”

Emily reached up and put a hand on his arm in an effort to comfort him.

“That summer, while Celia was learning to crawl, Rose caught a fever.  She was gone in a matter of days, leaving my daughter without a mother.”

Emily gasped, tears came to her eyes. “That poor child.”

“Needless to say, my parents halted all attempts at obtaining an annulment.  Now they had more power over me.”

“How so?”

“They will continue to financially support my child.  When the time comes for her debut they will see that she has a full season.  However, if I fail to marry properly, not only will the funds be cut, but they will also deny my daughter and give her the cut direct.  They have also hinted that they will allow society to believe my daughter was born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

Emily gasped.  “They are her grandparents!”

“Who have never laid eyes on the girl and have no intention of doing so unless I fulfill their ambitions.”

“How old is Celia?”

“Thirteen, and even more beautiful every day,” Dillon answered with a proud smile.

“Do you to see her often?” she asked hesitantly.

“I spend two months in the summer with her and my uncle brings her to London during the season.  I dine with her almost every day and we walk in the park during the early morning hours.”

“I’m surprised no one has seen you.”

“I’m careful.” He shrugged. “My parents and I don’t discuss Celia.  They haven’t changed their mind and I have since ceased my attempts. My relationship with Celia is a secret as is my relationship with you.  Except, nobody, other than family and Marius, and now you, knows of Celia’s existence.”

“Not even Noah, or the others.”

“No,” he stated flatly.  “It was one of the conditions my parents insisted on. They would be livid if they learned that Marius knew.”

“How does Celia feel about all of this?”

“She has understood from a young age, unfortunately.  She does share a close relationship with my uncle, for which I am grateful.  And, she resides with her mother’s parents, who love her beyond distraction.  So she has that, and she knows where my heart lies and why I am forced to be away from her.  For one so young, she has been incredibly understanding.”

“Soon, now you will be able to have her with you always.”

Dillon smiled down at her. “I am glad you feel that way.  I was afraid you would not understand.”

“Of course I understand.  I lost my own mother as a child and my father when I was not much older than your daughter.  She should be by your side whatever the cost.”

Dillon felt as if he had finally been granted freedom.  He would have all he wished, finally.  Unable to contain himself he lifted Emily and kissed her fully on the mouth.  “I love you.”  He settled her back on the ground.

Emily was not smiling.  “You shouldn’t say that to me.”  She started backing away.

“Why not?  It’s the truth.  Certainly you suspected.”  Dillon stalked after her.  What had he said wrong?

“It’s impossible.”  She continued backing away, tears filled her eyes.

“It changes nothing, unless you don’t return my feelings.”

“It doesn’t matter if I return them or not,” Emily argued.

“Of course it matters.  We could be happy, the two of us.  We could live in the cottage, where no one would bother us.  Of course I would be required to be in London often, but I would visit you at every opportunity.  You would want for nothing and I would protect you with my life.”

Emily’s eyes grew large. “No.”

All happiness fled from Dillon.  “No?  Can you deny what we share?”

“I will not deny our feelings.”

“Is it the cottage?  Are you so used to living in the lap of luxury that you aren’t willing to give it up to be with me?”  He couldn’t believe she was rejecting him after everything they had shared and been through.

“You know it’s not the cottage and it has nothing to do with my feelings.”

“I explained so you would understand my position.  I cannot believe you would deny me, us.”

“I can’t believe you would even ask.”  Emily turned from him.

“I love you,” he yelled.

“It doesn’t matter.”  Emily hastened away.  “Don’t talk to me of this again.”  She ran and kept running.  Dillon thought to give chase but he was too angry and he was sure as hell wasn’t going to beg her.

* * *

How could he suggest that she become his mistress?  She knew his reasons.  She knew of his love.  His confession was bittersweet as it came with an insulting proposition.  Did he truly believe she would happily take up residence in the cottage while he lived a life in society with Claresta?  Did he actually think she would welcome him with open arms whenever he had a chance to visit knowing that he was spending the same quality hours with Claresta trying to beget an heir?  No amount of love in the world would be enough for her to lower herself to such a position and she couldn’t believe he would actually suggest it.  Perhaps she never really knew him.  Apparently his mother knew him much better for she had already warned Emily of what Dillon planned on proposing.  What a fool she had been.

Ellings was waiting for her to return and ushered her into a private room.  “Does your distress have anything to do with what occurred between Claresta and Dillon?”

Though tempted, Emily would never reveal to the duke what his future son-in-law had just proposed.  She couldn’t hang that dark cloud over their relationship.  She should at least give Claresta the chance at a happy future. “I really would rather not discuss it.”

“If you say so, dear.”  Ellings pulled an envelope out of his pocket.  “I was waiting because a message arrived for you a short time ago.”  He handed it over to Emily.

“It is from Pevensey.”  Emily tore it open and began to read before she sank onto the settee.  “No.  It can’t be.”  Tears wailed in her eyes.

“What?”  His Grace quickly sat next to her.

“Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Henry took a fever.  They died,” she stated as shock of the situation sank in.  “I’m alone.”  Emily looked up at Ellings and new tears flooded.

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close and Emily cried into his coat.

“I am so sorry, dear.  Is there anything I can do?”

She sat back, sniffed and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands.  “I need to leave.  I need to return to Pevensey.  The solicitor said I am needed for the final arrangements and the reading of the will.  May I have your carriage?”

“Of course,” Ellings assured her.  “Would you like us to accompany you?”

Emily shook her head.  If they came, so would Claresta.  She had too much to deal with already, facing this knew grief.  “No.  I would rather be alone.  Thank you.”

The duke accepted her response.  “When would you like to leave?”

“As soon as possible, if you don’t mind.”  The sooner the better.  She didn’t necessarily want to rush to Pevensey, knowing what awaited her, but she didn’t want to remain here either.  This was the perfect opportunity for her to leave the house party.  Unfortunately, it had come as a result of her only living relatives’ death.

As she stood to leave the room, the duke stopped her with a hand on her arm.  “Emily, you are not alone.”

This brought a new wave of tears to her eyes.  If only he knew why she couldn’t ever be a part of his family again.

Emily was packed and ready to leave within the half hour.  She didn’t want to waste a moment or risk seeing Dillon again.  Her anger was building and it was much easier to deal with than her hurt.  The loss of her aunt and uncle were another matter entirely.  Given her emotional state, she would probably cry during the entire trip to the village and she preferred to do that alone.

She was just entering the carriage when Claresta called out to her and exited the house.  Emily supposed it was too much to hope for that she could make a complete escape.

“Emily, I am so sorry for your loss.  Is there anything I can do?”

Emily forced herself to be pleasant, though she was far from feeling charitable toward the young woman at the moment.  “No, thank you.”

“You will write if you need anything?  I hate to think of you going through this alone.”

“I will endure, but now I must be going.”  Emily closed the carriage door and settled into the seat.

“Have you spoken with Dillon?”  Claresta asked anxiously.

“Yes,” Emily answered coolly.  She knocked on the roof of the carriage and it began to move.  Overcome with guilt for treating Claresta in such a way when it really wasn’t the girl’s fault, Emily leaned out the window and called to her.  “Congratulations on your betrothal.  I am sure you will be happy.”  Then Emily collapsed back in the carriage, as tears spilled down her checks after as the words left her mouth.

* * *

Dillon spent a good deal of time walking and thinking.  What had gone wrong?  He didn’t doubt Emily loved him, so why the rejection?  Did she not want the responsibility of a daughter, who would in a short time be making her own appearance in London?  That could possibly be it.  He knew well enough that Emily had avoided society for as long as possible.  She had also served as Claresta’s teacher and mentor for the past eight years.  Perhaps she didn’t want to repeat the same experience.  It was the only reason that came to mind.  Did she think that Celia’s existence meant there would be no other children?  Children they would have and raise together?  Perhaps that was what she was afraid of.  If only she would have given him a reason.

He had battled within himself to do the right thing to protect his daughter and after finally finding a way, Emily turned him down flat.  Dillon didn’t know whether to be hurt or angry.  Most certainly he was flabbergasted.

With no conclusion made, he returned to the house.  He and Emily would discuss this and he didn’t care who was present.

But Emily couldn’t be found.  Some guests said she’d departed.  Left in the duke’s carriage.  He couldn’t believe the events of the past few days had driven her away.  Someone had to know where she went.  That someone was His Grace, whom Dillon found seated in the parlor awaiting dinner with Noah, Taylor, Phoebe, Claresta and the duchess.

“Where is Emily?” he asked without the pleasant greeting one usually uttered upon entering a room.  He didn’t have time, and if he insulted anyone, he didn’t really care.

“She has left,” Ellings answered.

“Where?  Why?  Our discussion was not finished.”

“Her aunt and uncle passed away,” Her Grace offered sadly.

Dillon’s anger immediately left, and he was filled with nothing but concern.

“It appears the fever that has plagued so many has taken them,” Phoebe added

“So many people have been stricken and so many have died.  Nearly as many who survive.”  Her Grace dabbed her eyes.

“Did anyone go with her?”  Dillon looked at the different occupants in the room.  These were the closest people to Emily and none had accompanied her.

“I offered, but she wanted to be alone,” His Grace answered.

“I suspect she doesn’t wish to be around any of us at the moment.”  Claresta looked at Dillon. Her mouth was pursed and eyes narrowed, almost accusing him of something.  Now what had he done to anger her?  “I thought you were going to explain to her.”

“I did.”  Dillon found himself on the defense.

Claresta actually snorted. “Not very well, apparently.”

“Why, what do you mean?  She’d already heard the rumors, but I wanted her to understand how the circumstances came about.”  Dillon took a step toward the young lady.  “I explained how my mother claimed you were compromised, she didn’t seem angry once she understood the circumstances.”

“I see. What else did you discuss?”

Dillon glanced around the room. “I would rather not say.”  They were all watching him with an interest he couldn’t comprehend.

“I suggest you do.  We’re all friends here and have only Emily’s best interest at heart.”  Noah stood, arms crossed over this chest, feet planted apart.

Dillon swallowed, wondering what offense had he committed and explained basically how the conversation had progressed, without mention of his daughter.

“Exactly how did you propose to her?” Phoebe asked.

“I confessed my feelings and that I needed her in my life.  I told her that we would live at the cottage, but I wouldn’t be able to see her often because I would need to be in London.  We could be happy, the two of us.  We could live in the cottage, where no one would bother us.  I told her that she would want for nothing and I would always protect her.”

“This is worse than I thought,” Claresta groaned.

Her father shot a look at her.  “What do you know of these matters, dear?”

Claresta rolled her eyes. “I have had a season in London.  I have heard things I am sure I should not have, and I could probably name a few couples who are carrying on illicit relationships.”

“What does this have to do with me?”  Dillon demanded.  The faces in the room told him he had blundered, once again, where Emily was concerned.

“Did you ever actually mention the word marriage?” Claresta demanded.

“It was understood.”

“Then why didn’t she say yes?”  Noah questioned.

“I don’t know.  That’s why I’ve been searching for her.”  Dillon wished someone would let him know why this was suddenly all so important.

“Whoever enlightened Emily to the, um, situation yesterday didn’t bother to tell her that the betrothal, which lasted all of five minutes, was only in your mother’s mind.”  Claresta enlightened him.

“How do you know?”

“She congratulated me on my betrothal as she was leaving.  She didn’t give me a chance to correct her.”  Claresta leveled her eyes on him.

It took but moments for the implication to sink in and Dillon felt himself pale.  “If she believed I was to marry you, then she could only assume that I was offering . . .” He trailed off, not willing to speak of such matters in front of an innocent young woman.

“That would about sum it up.”  Noah observed.

Dillon felt sick.  “She’s returning to Pevensey?” he asked Ellings quickly.

“She has a two hour lead on you, but if you take your horse you can probably catch her.”

Without a word, Dillon strode from the room.  He asked to have his horse saddled and went upstairs to pack a few items.  When he returned to the foyer, another messenger had arrived.  This was to be delivered to him and he hoped it was a note from Emily.  He opened it as he stood in the doorway of the parlor.  The contents upset him enough to cause him to shake.  He tried to control his panic.  “I must return to London.”

Ellings rose out of his chair.  “What is it?  Your uncle?”

Dillon shook his head.  “No.”  He would not answer the first question.

“Why is everyone so serious?”  Mrs. Chambers waltzed into the room.  “This is a house party, after all.”

Stunned silence greeted her and she turned to her son.  “What is it Chadwick?”

“I need to return to London.”

“You can’t,” she protested and stomped her foot. “We still haven’t resolved this matter between you and Lady Claresta.

“That matter is resolved, Mother,” he bit out.

“But, dear, there are still a number of activities planned.  I can’t believe you would be so inhospitable to leave so suddenly and early. You must think of the trouble Lady Wilkes has gone to.”

“Mother,” Dillon stated in a firm tone.  “I am needed in London, I am leaving now.”

“What of Emily?”  Claresta came to her feet.

Mrs. Chambers smiled at the young woman.  “She is of no concern, dear.”

Dillon saw red, but controlled his anger.  Now was not the time to enter into that particular conversation with his mother.  “If it were possible, I would go after her now.  I am afraid I can’t,” he stated evenly.

“Though I have no idea why that woman left, I don’t see why you need to go after her.  I also don’t see why you need to leave for London.  What could be so pressing?”

Dillon looked his mother in the eye and answered in a low voice.  “Celia has the fever.”

Mrs. Chambers shook her head in disgust.  “Oh, that child.  I am sure she can wait a few more days.”  She dismissed and walked in to the room.

If Dillon had the time and no witnesses, he would have gladly strangled his mother with his own, bare hands.

“Mrs. Chambers.”  Ellings addressed in an agitated voice.  “I would like a private word with you.  Dillon, you should stay as well.”

“Your Grace, I really need to leave.”

“Your horse has not been brought around.”

As he spoke the remaining occupants in the room left quickly.  One did not disobey a duke’s command.  As soon as the door closed, Ellings addressed Mrs. Chambers.  “You are a sad excuse for motherhood, if not all of humanity.”

The affronted woman stepped back, her hand against her breast.

“Your grandchild is ill.  She has the fever that has claimed a number of lives, including Emily’s aunt and uncle just recently, and you dismiss her.”

“Well, she’s not really my grandchild.”

“She is most definitely your grandchild,” the duke shouted.  “If my child, or grandchild, were ill, not even the king would keep me away from them.  I have listened to you dismiss my ward and have held my tongue, considering your ignorance.  But I will not stand by and listen to you dismiss your own grandchild.”

“She is of no consequence to the family, Your Grace.  You surely know how these matters occur.”  The woman tried to explain.

“Her parents were married, a child came earlier then either anticipated, but they were married all the same.  This child is not an embarrassment.”

“The marriage wasn’t even legal,” Dillon’s mother continued to argue.

“It was completely legal and it would have never been set aside,” he countered with a smile.

“Of course it would have.  Who would have stood in its way?”

“I would have, as I stood in its way from the moment the petition was presented.  Your son was married to young Rose Langley and lost her too soon.  You should be grateful to have been blessed with a healthy granddaughter.”

“You, sir?”  This entire conversation came to a shock for Dillon.  How did Ellings know of his daughter?

“Yes, Dillon.  As a favor to an old friend.”  He smiled.  “We will discuss it when you have more time.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”  Dillon bowed.  He owed this man so much more than he would ever be able to repay.

Ellings turned his attention back on Dillon’s mother.  “You have used Celia against your son to get him to do your bidding.  It will stop now.  That child will be welcome in London when her time comes.  If I ever hear even a hint that you have cut your granddaughter, you will find yourself unwelcome in the majority of the homes in society.  Do I make myself clear?”  His voice rose so that even those in adjoining rooms must have heard him.

“Yes, Your Grace,” she stammered, curtseying gracefully before the duke.

Ellings dismissed the woman and turned to Dillon to escort him to the door.  “We will return to London in a day or two.  If you need anything before then, please send a message.”

“Thank you.”

Ellings stopped momentarily and scratched a name out on a card.  “This is my personal physician.  Contact him to attend your daughter.”

“Again, thank you.”  Dillon couldn’t believe everything that had happened to him in the past two hours.  Though he would like to go after Emily, Celia was in the forefront of his mind.  “What of Emily, sir?”

“Emily will be fine.  I’ll see to it.”

Chapter 16

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Pierce.”  Dillon stopped in front of the house Emily’s aunt and uncle had once lived in. Mrs. Pierce had been the cook and maid for the Klintonhoms.

“Good afternoon to you, Mr. Chambers.”

“Is Miss Frasier at home?”  He dismounted.

“Why, yes, she is.  Tomorrow she’ll be moving, so if it is she you wish to see, then you came none too late.”

“Where is she moving?  I had assumed her aunt and uncle would have left the house to her.”

Mrs. Pierce frowned. “The circumstances took us all by surprise.”  She shook her head.

“I understand they became ill and died rather suddenly.”

“Oh, yes, that too.”  Mr. Pierce came forward and took the reigns of Dillon’s horse.  “It was the reading of the will we found surprising.”

“How so?”  He knew the couple had been somewhat well off, but not exactly wealthy either.  However, they did own their own home.

“It was left to me and Ben,” Mrs. Pierce added.

“What of Emily?”

“Apparently, because she is the ward of a duke, they felt she would be taken care of.  Other than the items from the Mrs. Klintonhom’s family, and a few of their personal possessions and some household furnishings, nothing was left for Emily.”

She must have been devastated. “How did Miss Frasier take the news?”

“Actually, very well.  She said she had not wanted to live in this area and it only made the break easier.  She has been packing up her items for the past week and will be leaving tomorrow.”

That answered one of his questions.  Ellings had told him Emily planned on moving to Rosewood, an estate near Bradford, in Yorkshire.  It was days away from both London and Pevensey.  It was also one of the numerous estates owned by Ellings.  He’d asked Dillon to travel there and give his assessment on the land, sheep and mills.  This particular estate produced a large amount of wool for the two mills Ellings also owned in Bradford and was one the most profitable of his holdings.  This one had a more secure future as it didn’t rely on farming or mines.  Wool, or more specifically, clothing would always be necessary.  Dillon had held off making the trip.  First, because Celia became ill, and secondly, to repair the damaged relationship with Emily.  Once these personal matters were righted, then he could concentrate on the business he’d been hired for.  Thankfully, his new employer was understanding.  Still, Dillon didn’t know why he was being sent.  He knew nothing about wool, sheep or mills but Ellings assured him there were those in his employ who would teach him what he needed to know so Dillon could advise the duke accordingly.

“I’m glad I arrived when I did.  I would hate to have missed her.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will see her often enough,” Mrs. Pierce stated with a knowing smile.  “I understand that you are to marry Lady Claresta.  I’m sure your mother is very pleased.”

“You are mistaken, Mrs. Pierce.”  Dillon cleared his throat.  “There was a misunderstanding.  I am not betrothed to Lady Claresta, nor have I ever been.  I am afraid Miss Frasier left before she learned she’d heard but a rumor.”

Mrs. Pierce tisked and shook her head.  “Nothing good ever comes from rumors and gossip.”

“No, they don’t,” Dillon agreed.  In fact, he was quickly learning how damaging they could be.

“Miss Frasier is inside if you wish to see her.  I’ll go put on some tea.”

* * *

Turning away from the window, Emily surveyed the dining room.  Nothing would be accomplished staring out windows.  Beneath the pine table lay a beautiful rug she once admired and now it belonged to her.    Lifting one end of the heavy table, she realized how much easier her task would be if Mr. or Mrs. Pierce were available to help her.  As it was, they both had tasks to see to and she wouldn’t burden them with another.

Emily traveled from one end of the table to the other, moving each section a few inches at a time. Resting at the far end, head down, hands gripping the tables, she sensed a presence at the door.  It must be one of the servants

“Thank goodness one of you is here.”  She tried to catch her breath.  “Please lift the other end to help me move this monster against the wall.”

The other end lifted and Emily followed suit, concentrating on where she was going.  “I had thought to keep this table, but I refuse to own anything I cannot move myself.”

“If you would reconsider my offer, such a consideration would not be necessary.”

His voice startled Emily and she dropped her end of the table, banging her knee.  Muttering an oath she glared at him across the table. “Where did you come from?”

Dillon offered an amused smile.  “Previously, where you left me standing.  Recently, London.”  He set his end of table onto the floor.  “Most recently, your cottage.”

Emily took a steadying breath.  She would stay in control and ignore the fierce beating of her heart.  She would remember how angry she was at his insulting offer.

“You are mistaken,” she bit out.

Dillon seemed to ponder her words.  “No, I am positive.  I just left your cottage.”

“It is not my cottage.”

He shook his head slowly. “No.  I am sure it’s yours.”

Emily was dumbstruck.  What was he talking about?

Mrs. Pierce took the opportunity to step into the room.  “The tea is in the parlor, Miss Frasier.”

Emily turned to the housekeeper.  “That won’t be necessary.  Mr. Chambers will not be staying long enough to enjoy tea.”

Dillon ignored her and bestowed a gallant smile on Mrs. Pierce. “Thank you.  A cup sounds most refreshing.”  With a slight nod of his head to Emily, he turned and walked in the direction of the parlor, forcing her to follow him.  She reached the room just as Dillon was sitting, reaching for a biscuit.

“Why are you here?”  She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.

He remained unfazed as he poured two cups of tea and settled back with his own, legs crossed quite comfortably as this was merely a friendly social call.

“Actually, I am here for a number of reasons.”  Pausing, he sipped from the cup.  “Please sit.”  He patted the spot next to him.

Emily ignored the suggested seating assignment. Besides, a real gentleman would have waited until she was seated before settling himself.  She opted for the chair, on the opposite side of the table.  Dillon chuckled and handed her a cup of tea.  His pretending as if nothing unpleasant had occurred between them further ruffled her.

“I would have been here sooner but Celia caught the fever. I left for London shortly after you took your leave.”

Emily paused in sipping her tea.  The fever had taken so many and she was afraid to ask.

“She has recovered, thankfully.  I stayed with her for an extra week to make sure she didn’t relapse.”

“Thank goodness.”  Emily sighed.

“I can see you are still upset with me, however.”

“That would be an understatement.”  Emily sat her cup back on the table.  She wasn’t about to sit and take tea with him.  Why was he here?

“As you should be.”  He continued to sip his tea.

Had he gone completely mad? They were not discussing something trivial as the weather so why was he acting as if they were?  “At least you realize your error.”

Dillon looked up at her over the rim of his cup. His eyes were finally serious.  “Yes, I realized my mistake after returning to the house.  Though I don’t believe we are referring to the same error.”

Now Emily felt as if she were losing her mind.  Was the mistake in the offer or her refusal or both?

Setting his cup on the table, he eyes bore into her.  “I apologize for any insult you may have insinuated from my offer. It was not my intention.”

“Regardless....”

He wouldn’t let her continue and cut her off.  “You unfortunately misunderstood my proposal.”

Emily eyed him skeptically.  What was his game?

“I have decided to present it once again in a hopefully clearer manner.”

“That won’t be necessary.”  Emily stood. She wasn’t about to be insulted and humiliated a second time.

Dillon stood with her.  “Please.”  He reached across the table and grabbed her hand.  “Hear me out. If, after you have heard everything I have to say and you still want me to leave, I will never bother you again.”

Something in his voice and eyes gave her pause.  It was almost desperation yet she couldn’t imagine it possible.  There were worst things to fear in life than marrying a pleasant and lovely daughter of a duke.  Still, something in his manner compelled her.

“Very well.”  She yanked her hand from his grasp and took a step back to put distance between them.

“Before I try again, you need to know, regardless of any decision you make, the cottage now belongs to you.”

Emily shook her head.  He was not going to use the property against her.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“No?”

“No.  I won’t lie to you.  My true desire is to live there with you. But, if you do not wish for my company, or presence for that matter, you can refuse me access.  Change the locks if it pleases you. The cottage is yours to do with as you see fit.”

One just didn’t give a gift of that magnitude without wanting something in return. Perhaps he was trying to sooth his conscience?  Or, perhaps he had told Claresta everything and she insisted on Emily taking the place. “Why?” she asked.

“Because I love you,” Dillon responded without hesitation.

She wouldn’t let his words soften her resolve.  She would not be his mistress.

“I spoke the truth when I said no other woman belongs there.  It is your favorite place to be. I had hoped you would share it with me.”

Anger shot through her. How dare he?  Pulling herself straight and lifting her chin, Emily glared at him.  “I will not be your mistress.”

She had finally said the words and Dillon reacted as if insulted.

“Nor would I ask you to demean yourself in that manner.”

What was he about?  Emily held her ground.  He was up to something.  “You expect me to accept the cottage and offer nothing in return?”

He gave her half a smile.  “I was hoping for something in return.”

“So.”  She planted her hands on her hips.  “The cottage does come with a price?”

“I can see that concerns you.”  He brought his hand up to cradle his chin in a thoughtful manner.  “There was one condition I will remove it.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed.  “Just like that? The cottage is mine and you can only visit if I choose?”  She didn’t believe him for a moment.

Dillon pulled documents from his inside coat pocket.  “Exactly” He unfolded both, scanned the writing and returned one to his pocket and the other to Emily.

Emily took the document.  So stunned to see that her name was on the deed, her hands shook and knees threatened to give way. She sank down into a chair.  “Why?”  She could never accept the offer, yet in her hand, she held one of her dreams.  She could have almost all of her dreams if she became his mistress, but the price was too high.

Dillon sat on the table, facing her.  “Because I love you.  I don’t want any other woman living there and if I can’t have you, then there is no point in retaining ownership.”

“You will marry shortly.  Claresta might enjoy staying there for a short time.”

“Can Claresta cook?” he asked instead.

“I suppose she would require a servant.”  Emily smiled sadly.  “Still, I cannot accept this.”  She tried to return the document.

Dillon shook his head. “Whether you have possession of the deed or not, it still belongs to you.”  Standing, he began to take his leave.

Trying to hold back the tears, she watched him approach the door.  “Wait.”

* * *

Dillon had been praying that she would stop him and turned.  “Yes?”

“I am confused.  Earlier you said you would not demean me by asking me to be your mistress. Was that the condition?”

“No, it wasn’t.”  He began to turn once again.  Emily was curious and he was betting she would want to know the condition.

“I need to know the condition.”

He took out the second document and held it up.  “It was simply this.”

Emily reached for it but he held it out of her reach.  “I am afraid you cannot read this condition.”

“Why not?”

“The information in this document does have a price.”

“I expected as much.”  She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her foot.  “Is a contract usually drawn up when an arrangement is made between a gentleman and his mistress?”

Dillon shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“If it doesn’t involve me being your mistress, why can’t I read it?”

“You misunderstood, again.  There is a price you must pay if you wish to read the document.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“The price isn’t so high.”  He gave her a lopsided grin.  “I only ask for a kiss and it is yours.”

Pursing her lips she studied him.  “Why a kiss now?  Are you afraid I’ll hate you more than I did yesterday?  And should a betrothed gentleman be asking for kisses from other ladies?”

He didn’t believe for a minute she had ever hated him, though she may have tried to convince herself.  “I am not afraid you will hate me and I can promise that my future wife will be most understanding, hopefully.”

Emily tapped her foot, studying him.  “Very well.”  She went up on her toes and puckered her lips.

Dillon took one step back.  “Not just any kiss.  I want to be convinced you are serious about seeing this paper.”

Her eyes narrowed, not a bit happy with him at the moment.  “Very well.”  She stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders.  Standing on her toes, she pulled his head down and touched her lips to his.   Dillon immediately pulled her against him and deepened the kiss.  He knew she would try to keep it as innocent as possible and still gain the document.

Soon, she opened for him and his blood stirred, bringing an almost immediate physical reaction.  Emily must have felt his desire pressed against her abdomen because she broke the kiss and placed both hands on his chest and pushed away.

“I believe that was very convincing.”

Straightening her spine, Emily held out her hand.  True to his word, Dillon placed the paper in her hands then stood back to watch her reaction.  She unfolded the paper and began to read.  A gasp escaped her lips and she slowly walked across the room and sank into a chair.  This was the second time in less than an hour he’d been able to shock her.  It was a rarity which he thoroughly enjoyed.

Dillon remained silent as she reread the document.  Other than shock, he had no clue to her real feelings at that moment.  After a third reading, Emily raised her troubled eyes to his.  “This was the condition?”

“It always has been.”  He stepped forward and kneeled before her, wanting to look directly into her eyes.   “I was speaking of marriage that day by the lake, but hadn’t realized my grave error until I had returned to the house.”

Emily shook her head in denial.  “I thought....”

He cupped her cheek with his hand.  “I realized too late what you thought.  That was never my intention.  Nor was I aware that you had not heard the entire story involving the incident with Claresta and myself.  She summarized it best when she said the betrothal lasted all of five minutes, and only in my mother’s imagination.”

“You compromised her.”

“We had a witness and we were not alone, as we had first believed.  Sabrina was sitting in a corner chair and had not yet had the opportunity to announce herself until the debacle took place.  She explained to Ellings the exact circumstances of what had occurred.”

A wealth of emotion filled his chest.  “Losing you would be losing everything.  If it meant I would no longer have land and would need to repair roofs for the rest of my life, I would gladly do so if it meant having you in my life. You are my happiness, my everything and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you in the cottage.”

A sob broke from her lips and Emily flung herself at him.  Wrapping her arms around his neck she began kissing his face.  “Oh, Dillon, I love you so much.  I never dreamed to hope...” her words were lost in his laugh and he pulled her closer, causing them both to lose their balance and tumble to the floor.

Mrs. Pierce found them laughing and kissing on the floor.  “Oh, dear.”

Dillon looked up at the housekeeper, who was frowning at him for taking such liberties. “I believe Miss Frasier is pleased with my proposal of marriage.”

The disapproving look turned to a beaming smile.    When Emily realized they were not alone, she blushed profusely. Sitting up, she brushed the tears from her cheek and Dillon helped her stand as Mrs. Pierce backed out of the room, still smiling and now humming.

Her smile fell a moment later.   “You can’t marry me.  You’ll lose everything.”

Dillon smiled and kissed her.  “Actually, I believe I have gained much more.”

“How could that be possible?  Your funds, your daughter?”

Dillon pressed his fingers to her lips to silence her.  “Hear me out.  After my pseudo betrothal was cleared up, Ellings and I had a long discussion.  It was a meeting that had been planned a few days prior to the ball.”

“Why did you need to meet with Ellings?”

“Because he is your guardian, dear.  I couldn’t very well marry you without his permission.”

Emily’s mouth fell open.

“He already knew about Celia, though I didn’t learn that bit of information until recently.  Your father had enlisted his aid all those years ago. It was Ellings who fought against my parents from the beginning.”

“I’ve always admired my guardian. Almost as much as my father.”

“He promised that he and Her Grace would sponsor Celia if my mother remained true to her threats.  Ellings also explained to my mother that if she cut Celia in society, the same could be done to her, tenfold.”

Her grin grew wider.

“As I wish to marry you, and plan on doing so, it was necessary he know my financial situation before he granted me permission or denied my request.”

“What did he say?  He must have granted permission or you wouldn’t be here, unless you’re going against his wishes as well.”

“He offered a very nice dowry so we wouldn’t have to worry.”

Emily opened her mouth to object, but Dillon held up his hand, silencing her.

“I refused.  My alternative was to ask for a position.”

“You’re going to work for the Duke of Ellings?”

“Yes.”  Dillon grinned.  “The salary will exceed our needs and he has an empty townhouse in London we can use.”

“What would you do for him?”

“One of my duties is to advise him on investment opportunities. The other is to visit each of his estates on a regular basis to evaluate how each is being run and offer suggestions.”

“But you would have to work.  You should not have to. . .”

“I am actually grateful for the work. I have too much idle time on my hands, not owning an estate of my own or land.” Dillon put his finger under her chin and lifted her face to his, staring into her eyes.  I would be honored if you would consent to be my wife.”

“I love you, Dillon.  You cannot imagine what this means to me.” The tears fell freely from her eyes, down her cheeks.

He smiled.  She loved him.  She had never told him before but he had convinced himself it was true.  It wasn’t until she said he words that his tension melted away.  He’d been afraid that his feelings were not completely returned.

“We can visit the vicar now.  There’s still time.”

Emily pulled back from him.  “I am not exactly dressed to be married.”

Dillon noted her appearance for the first time.  What was he thinking?  Every bride deserved to be dressed in a lovely gown, flowers and attendants.  He was just too anxious to make her his and he hadn’t wanted to wait.  “I think you’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks turned a rosy pink.  “I’m not prepared for this.  Can we wait a day?” she asked hesitantly.

Though Dillon believed the next twenty-four hours would be the longest of his life, he capitulated.  “Of course.”

“Thank you.”  Emily returned his smile. “Can we go there now?”

“The cottage?”

“Yes.  I am done here.  Everything is packed.  The larger items can be sent over later. I can get my valise and be on my way.”

“It would hardly be proper for us to spend the night there, together, and I refuse to leave you alone.”

Her eyes looked up at him beseeching.  “Please.  It is the only place I want to be, now and forever with you.”

Dillon studied her.  He knew they couldn’t spend the night in the cottage without him making love to her.  He wasn’t that strong.  Did it really matter though? They were going to married tomorrow.

“There is no place I would rather be.”

Emily sighed with relief and rose to her feet.  “I’ll gather my things and be back shortly.”

“What do we tell the Pierces?”

“Tell them you’re taking me home.”

Chapter 17

Emily soaked in the bath off the largest bedchamber.  She tried to think clearly about today’s events, but she was still reeling from the surprise of it all.  After they’d arrived at the cottage and Emily’s things were unloaded, Dillon left to return to his parents’ home to raid their pantry so they would have sustenance in the coming days.  Emily took the opportunity to bathe and wash her hair. Was this really happening to her?

Tonight they would finally make love.  Emily was not misled on that notion.  She was somewhat surprised that they hadn’t already.  Once Dillon had escorted her to the bedchamber with her things, he began kissing her and removing her gown.  Before her breasts we freed however, he pulled away and announced that he would see to food first and then begin the intimacies they would enjoy for a lifetime.

A shiver ran through Emily just thinking about being with him again.  This time they wouldn’t deny each other anything. Tonight she would treasure for the rest of her days because she was still undecided what tomorrow would bring.  Rising from the tub and drying herself, Emily refused to think about tomorrow. It would be here soon enough.

When she emerged downstairs, hair still damp from her bath, she found Dillon putting away foodstuffs.  There were enough staples to see them through for weeks.

Dillon smiled at her.  “Cook sent some ham, bread, cheese, fruits and pudding for dinner.”

Emily turned cold.  “Does she know I am here?”

“No.”  Dillon laughed.  “She always packs enough food for weeks when she knows I’ll be living here.”

Emily relaxed.  “Is there anything I can do?”

“Why don’t you find a tray?  It should be in the cabinet by the window.  The plates and glasses are in the cupboard by the door.”

Emily located everything he requested as Dillon put their dinner on the tray, with a bottle of wine.

“Shall we retire?” he asked.

“Upstairs?”  Her throat went dry.

“We are going to end up there eventually.  Besides, we can sit at the table by the window and enjoy your garden in the fading sunlight.”

Emily glanced out the window.  It was already dark.

“We can still enjoy the fragrance without seeing the flowers.”  He offered with an innocent shrug as he turned and headed up the stairs.  Emily followed, biting back a smile.  How could she refuse this man?

The meal was delicious and Emily hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the food had been placed on her plate.

With the candlelight and fragrance from the garden, Emily couldn’t imagine a more romantic setting. The night began to cool as they finished their dinner and Dillon closed the window after seeing her chill.  Refilling her wine, he pulled her to the rug before the fireplace.  There, he stoked the fire until the flames grew large, taking the dampness from the room.  The bed was directly behind them and Emily was sure she felt it getting closer, but neither one of them had moved since they settled on the floor.  It must have been her nerves.

Dillon looked over at her and paused in his dialogue. Emily hadn’t heard a word of what he was saying and she held her wineglass in a death grip.  “Are you nervous about what is to come?”

Emily smiled faintly.  “It is silly, I know.  In the nursery that night I would have allowed you every liberty without any fear.  Now that I’ve time to think about it, I can’t help but feel nervous.”

“It’s not silly.”  Dillon smiled at her lovingly.  “But, if you would rather wait.”

“No,” she quickly answered.  “I think that would only make it worse.”

“Come here.  You need to relax.”

Emily stiffened as he pulled her in front of him.

“Stare only into the fire and forget there is a bed behind you.”  He put his glass on the table.

That was easier said than done.

“First, I am going to work away your tension or you’ll never find pleasure tonight.”

His fingers began to work at the knots in her shoulders before his thumbs massaged the cords in her neck, up to her skull and back down again.   She couldn’t hold back a moan at the pleasure of it.

Dillon kept working at the muscles and Emily let her head fall forward, leaving herself open to him.  Slowly, he undid the buttons at the back of the gown, massaging the skin as it was exposed.  Emily offered no protest, and leaned further forward to allow him complete access.

Finally, the dress was completely undone and Dillon worked the muscles at her lower back, up to her skull and down again, eliciting moan after moan from Emily.

His lips trailed down her spine as his hands relaxed the muscles along her hips.  Slowly, he rolled her over and pulled the sleeves down her arms.  Both chemise and dress were removed from the waist up.  Groggily, Emily opened her eyes.  Dillon set his hands once again to her neck and shoulder muscles, working his way down her sides, without touching her breasts.  They responded, tightening in anticipation.

His hands came up to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking the erect tips.  Emily looked up at him.  Gone was all her fear and apprehension.

Leaning forward, he kissed her deeply as his hands brought pleasure to her breasts.  Slowly, he trailed his kisses down until he was laving one tip as his hand caressed the other. Emily arched to meet him.

She’d been foolish to be nervous.  How could she forget how he made her feel and the magic in his hands?

She pushed the jacket from his shoulders.  Dillon broke contact and removed the clothing himself.  First his jacket, then the cravat and finally his shirt.  Emily watched him and waited for his return.  Dillon paused and then shifted, pulling off both boots and tossing them aside before coming down beside her.

Emily held out her arms, welcoming him and soon they were locked in an embrace. Her nipples hot from the contact of his skin and pleasure pulsated to her cord.  Dillon took her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.  Her hands came around his back, holding him against her, raising her head to meet his kiss.  Dillon rolled, leaving her on top of him as he pushed her skirt down her hips until she was clad only in stockings before he rolled again, bringing her beneath him once more without ever breaking his kiss.

Emily was faintly aware that her clothing was gone, but she no longer cared.  All she was truly aware of was his mouth on hers and his lower body pressed between her thighs.  She could feel how rigid he was each time he gently thrust against her and Emily was soon squirming to get closer, to bring him against the place that he had given so much pleasure before.

Dillon shifted slightly and Emily tried to pull him back over on her, but Dillon resisted.  Soon she forget that need as his hand found her breast once again, as did his mouth before he began trailing his kisses across her abdomen and a hand caressed up her thigh.  She knew where that hand was going and wished it would hurry before she expired from desire.  If he hadn’t have shown her this pleasure before, she wouldn’t be so anxious for it now.  A sigh escaped her lips as his fingers reached their destination.

Emily cried out when his fingers sank into her.  So intent on waiting for that pleasure, she hadn’t been aware of what else Dillon was planning until he shifted and nudged her thighs apart.  This was it, she thought.  He would enter her now.  As educated as she was in these matters, she wasn’t prepared for his lips and tongue to kiss her there.  She almost came off the rug with the bolt of pure pleasure like lightening that coursed through her, but Dillon held her in place.  Slowly, he lifted her so he could feast.  Emily thought she would die from pleasure as he kissed, licked and sucked while his fingers rhythmically moved within her.  Her climax grew and she was without the will to stop it.

* * *

She was more passionate and responsive than before and Dillon couldn’t believe his luck in finding her.  As she tensed around his fingers Dillon increased the rhythm of his tongue until Emily was crying and spasming beneath him.  Slowly, he lowered her to the rug and lifted himself from her.  She laid on her back, drained, eyes closed and breaths labored.  He slid up her body until he was nestled between her thighs once more.  Emily opened her eyes and smiled.  He thrust against her once more, she groaned and pressed against him.

He could no longer wait, but he wasn’t going to take her on the floor.  Rolling over, he bent and scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bed where he deposited her before quickly relieving himself of his britches.  At least he didn’t have to hide himself for fear of scarring her.  She was already well acquainted with his cock.  Emily lifted her arms to welcome him as he came down on the bed.  They rolled into each other.  Dillon kissed her madly as he rolled on top.  There, he nestled himself again, but no barriers lay between them. Lifting her buttocks he probed for her entrance and slowly entered the tight, moist sheath. He groaned with the pleasure of it.

Emily lifted and allowed him further access. Dillon tried to go slow, but it was killing him.  He couldn’t lose his seed and leave her a virgin.  He wasn’t a green schoolboy anymore.

She tilted, bringing him further in.  Dillon could not hold back and plunged forward, tearing through her thin bearer.

Emily stiffened at the pain.  Dillon held still and looked down at her.  She grinned back.   This was the most incredible experience of her life.

Dillon took her lips once again in a deep, passionate kiss as he began to move in the age-old rhythm.  Emily met his thrusts equally.  Dillon didn’t think he could hold out for her but her pleasure peaked quickly and as she tightened around him, his cry met hers as his seed pumped into her womb.

Chapter 18

Emily must have fallen asleep almost immediately for the only thing she could remember afterwards was Dillon rolling to his side, holding her close and whispering his love.  That was hours ago according to the clock.  Dillon slept deeply, quietly snoring.  She held back her giggle at this delightful thing she’d learned about him.  She wondered if he knew.  Certainly he would deny it if mentioned.  Didn’t most everyone?

She studied his sleeping face.  He was so relaxed and youthful looking in his slumber and her heart ached with love for him.  If she were to search the entire world, no one would ever compare to Dillon.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky when Emily felt the feather kisses on her neck and shoulder.  One hand caressed her breast.  It took a moment to wake and then she relaxed and allowed Dillon to do as he wished.  The moment he touched her, pleasure spiraled and in a matter of moments she was climaxing.  Dillon didn’t wait for her to recover and was soon pressing himself into her. Emily opened, welcoming him.  In just a few thrusts, she climaxed again, taking Dillon with her. Her earlier release had been slow to build.  These were quick and intense.

Dillon rose from the bed and tucked the blankets around her.  “Get some more sleep, love. This is a big day for you and I want you refreshed.”  He kissed the tip of her nose and went into the bathing chamber and closed the door behind him.

Emily willed sleep to claim her so she could put off what she had to do, but sleep would not come.  In the comforts of the warm bed she listened as he bathed and prepared for the day.  He was humming a tune.  She didn’t know he hummed nor had she been aware he snored.  Dillon emerged still damp, with a towel around his waist and grinned at her. That smile almost made her heart stop.  Why did their relationship have to be so difficult and rewarding at the same time?

He dressed quickly, preparing for their wedding while Emily silently watched. She blinked the tears back

Once he had every article in place, Dillon sat on the bed and kissed her.  “I didn’t dare approach you until I was fully clothed. The temptation to climb back under the covers would have been too much for me.”

Emily smiled up at him.  “I should get up and bathe.”  She started to rise.

But Dillon pushed her back against the pillows.  “Don’t get out of this bed until I am gone.  A mere glimpse of your flesh will have me disrobing and we have important matters to attend to.”

“Very well.”  Emily sighed, relaxing against the pillows as she watched Dillon take his leave.  As soon as the door clicked, Emily pulled herself from the bed and prepared her bath, prolonging each moment before she had to appear downstairs.  She’d been thankful for the pumped in water last night, now she would welcome the extended time it would take to heat water in the kitchen and bring it up to the chamber. Last night had been the most beautiful night of her life. Today would most likely be the worst.

Coffee, tea and biscuits awaited Emily as she entered the kitchen.  Dillon was seated at the table while he reviewed the morning post from Pevensey.  At her entrance, he glanced up and smiled.

Emily paused momentarily before walking to the table and to take her seat.  This was going to be difficult, but she prayed he would understand.  After taking a sip of the bitter coffee, she leveled her eyes on him and set her cup aside.  It was now or never.

“I cannot marry you, Dillon.”

He sat and stared at her.  “Pardon?”

“I said, I cannot marry you.”

Dillon laid the paper on the table and his cup on the saucer.  “May I ask why?”

“It’s unfair to you and Celia.”

“No. You are wrong. This is the best decision I’ve made in my life.”

Emily stood and began to pace.  She couldn’t simply sit at the table and discuss this calmly.  Her nerves would not allow it. “If you marry someone your parents approve of, you won’t have to be employed,” she began.

He stood and planted his hands on the table. “I enjoy working for Ellings.  It’s fulfilling in ways I’d never imagined.”

Emily whipped around to face him.  “How long have you worked for him?”

”Two weeks.”  Dillon sounded proud of his accomplishment.

“A very short time for a gentleman who has not ever had to serve another in his life.”  She resumed her pacing.  “How soon before you become tired of answering to others and traveling to various estates you can never own while your friends carry on with their lives?”

“I don’t know if I will grow weary of the position, but I’ll do what I must,” he argued.

“You won’t be received in society as you have been before.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.  My friends will never turn us away.”

She faced him again. Why didn’t he understand this was for the best? “They are only a handful of people among hundreds.  When you grow tired of being in the shadows and no longer openly acceptable, you’ll grow to resent me.”

“I would never.”  He walked around the table toward her.  “Do you have so little faith in me and my love for you?”

Emily stepped to the side, and put the table between them again.  It wasn’t that she feared Dillon in his anger; she simply couldn’t bear to have him touch her when she had so much to say.  His simple touch would crumble her resolve and she couldn’t afford to let that happen for both of their sakes.

“I don’t doubt that you feel this way now and this is more difficult for me than you can imagine.  I never knew it was possible to love someone as completely as I do you. But it’s because of my love that I can’t let you ruin your life.  Neither one of us can predict how you’ll feel in the future when you begin to miss your old life.”

“I have no use for that life if you are not my wife either. And, I don’t believe I will be shunned from society.”

“You have been in society much longer than I and even I know that you’ll commit an unforgivable act in marrying a nobody and taking a position not much higher than a servant.”

Dillon began to walk around the table.  “That does not matter to me.”

Emily scooted around the table to keep her distance.  “It should.  Not only does it affect your future but Celia’s as well.”

Dillon stopped.  “The duke and duchess will sponsor her when the time comes” he argued.

“She will still be the daughter of the man who shunned societal rules and married a professor’s daughter.”

“She is the granddaughter of a magistrate,” Dillon reminded her.

“Which convinces me further that her stepmother needs to be someone in society.  It will be the only chance she has of an advantageous marriage.”

“My mother’s plans for my advantageous marriage only brought pain and heartache.  I will not do that to my daughter.”

“Her plans and position also allow you to move in society.  At least you had the opportunity to meet ladies of quality because of the wealth behind your name.  Ellings can put Celia in that same society, but everyone will already judge her by your actions and how many gentlemen will consider her seriously?”

“They will if they care about her.”

“They won’t ever allow themselves the chance to meet her, let alone come to care for her.  The dye would have already been cast.”

Dillon stood silently for a moment. “When did you decide all this?  Yesterday you were willing to marry me.”

Emily looked away from him.  “I never said yes to your proposal.”

Dillon stilled. “You never had any intention of marrying me.”  His voice was soft in cold anger. It chilled Emily, but she had expected as much.  When she looked up at him, his eyes were hard and angry.  It was just what she’d feared.

“I didn’t really know until early this morning.  It was the only time I had to think matters through rationally.”

“Yet, you let me make love to you when you knew I thought we would marry.”

“I wanted that between us.  If I had voiced my concerns, last night you would have never stayed with me.”

“On that you are correct.”  He slammed his fist on the table.

“Think of your future, think of Celia, think of our family.  She may not appreciate you marrying a stranger. One who could ruin any chance she could have of a brighter future.”

Dillon stilled, his face relaxed.  “My daughter and her opinion means that much to you.”

“Of course. You are the only parent she has and you have already missed out on so much.  What if she resented me? Hated me? Then what would you do.”

He took a step forward and reached for her.

Emily backed away. “Don’t. I know what it is like to grow up without a mother, but I believe I was closer to my father because of it.  Don’t take that away from her.”

Tears streamed down her face and she wiped them away with the sleeve of her dress.

“You are right.”

Her heart constricted. She knew he would agree with her, but it hurt still the same.

“I will leave the deed and be gone.”

Dillon chuckled. “Yes, you will be leaving. You are coming back to London with me.”

“No. I already planned to go to one of Ellings estates. If had my fill of London.”

“But, London is where Celia is.”

“And you should be with her.”  Her heartbeat increased.

“I will, and so will you.”  He pulled her into his arms. “You are right. I should have never considered marrying you without Celia first meeting you.”

“It still doesn’t change anything.  Whether she likes me or not, you would still have to work for my guardian.”

“Oh, Emily. Do be quiet.”  He tilted her chin up and brushed his lips across hers. “I will take you to meet Celia.  I promise to make no plans until she has offered an opinion.”

Chapter 19

“A note has been sent and Celia should arrive here shortly with my uncle.”  Dillon settled in the chair across from her.

Emily jumped up and began to pace the yellow sitting room of the Ellings townhouse.  Dillon was so sure and she just wished she could be.  He lounged in a chair before the fire and watched her, completely calm. It irritated her to know end.  How could she even think about marrying him? Was she being selfish in wanting to be his wife?

“I can’t bear the thought of your needing to work. You wouldn’t have to if you didn’t marry me.”

“As far as my funds are concerned, my employment is only a temporary matter.”

Emily whipped around to face him.  He had gone to his father earlier in the day, but he didn’t tell her what they discussed. “He released your quarterly?”

“No, and I doubt he ever will.  It is my investments.  I’ll realize large profits within the next months.”

“I still don’t believe we are being fair to her.”  She knelt down and grabbed his hand. He had to know how important this was. “I was a year older than your daughter when I lost my father.  In the past month I lost my only other living relatives.  I am completely alone.”

“You don’t have to be.” He squeezed her hand.

“This is not about me.  I am simply trying to explain.”  She let go, stood and walked away from him.  “Nobody can begin to appreciate family until they are gone.  If you marry me, your ties will be severed with your parents for good and Celia will not have a chance to know them.”

“Celia has me, the parents of her mother and my uncle.  She is very much loved.”

Emily whipped around.  “Yes, but I will not be the one responsible for her losing the rest.  If you married properly, she would have a chance to get to know her grandparents.  I am sure your mother and father will come to love her and regret past decisions.  It is not possible to have too much family.”  Tears formed in her eyes.

“You are wrong.”  Emily turned to find a girl standing in the open door.

“Celia, how long have you been listening?”  Dillon stood and approached his daughter.

“I listened to enough, father.  Though I understand and appreciate Miss Frasier’s noble gesture, I would like to explain my feelings on the matter.”

Emily watched the young woman approach. She was strikingly beautiful with her father’s dark curly hair and thick lashes surrounding grey eyes.  Few resemblances could be seen between Celia and Dillon, she had only his coloring.  Emily could only assume she looked like her mother.  If that were the case, no wonder Dillon had fallen for Rose at such a young age.

“I have no desire to meet my father’s parents.  Ever.  I know how they felt about my mother and how they tried to ruin their marriage.  They will only accept me if father does as they wish.”

The child knew more then she should.

“Even if father had married someone like Lady Claresta, my feelings would not have changed. Their affections come at a price.  I will still treat them with respect in public, but no one can make me embrace them in private.”

“Perhaps they will change?”  Emily offered weakly.

“It doesn’t matter.”  Celia shrugged.  “I have grandparents who love me unconditionally and they are my only grandparents.  My father’s parents are merely relations.  If they loved him, they would never force him into these decisions.  And, if that is their form of love then I want nothing to do with them.”

Could Emily really blame the girl for feeling the way she did?

Dillon stood grinning behind his daughter.

“Besides, you make my father happy.  When I was ill he told me all about you and how much he loved you.”

“Are there any more concerns, Emily?”  Dillon came up from behind Celia and put his hands on her shoulders and gave a delicate squeezed of affection.

Emily tore her eyes from Celia and looked to Dillon.  “No.”

“Good.”  Father and daughter stated in unison.

“You must marry Father,” Celia grasped her hands and pleaded.  “It has been wonderful that I can live in his house now and we can spend more time together.  It would be even better if he were happy.”

Emily noted the sincerity in the young lady’s eyes.  All will to refuse left her.  “I would be very pleased to marry your father, Celia, if you will have me as your step-mother.”

“Oh, I would like nothing more.”

“Nor would I.”

Celia turned, quickly hugged Dillon and kissed him on the cheek before running back into the foyer where she suspected Dillon’s uncle waited.

“She’ll have everyone alerted in a matter of moments.”

“I suspected as much.”  Emily returned his smile.

“I do love you,” Dillon said softly as he came forward.

“And, I love you.”  Tears sparkled in her eyes.  Today doubt had been laid to rest and all her dreams had come true.

Just as Dillon claimed her lips, the door burst open.

“None of that.”  Ellings came into the room.  “The two of you have anticipated quite enough and will not be left alone again.”

Emily’s face heated with embarrassment.  She was afraid her guardian knew the truth but didn’t dare ask.  “I suppose I should find Her Grace so we can plan a wedding.”

“Don’t take too long.  You will marry tomorrow.” The duke announced.  “This took too long as it is and I’m not going to give you a chance to come up with another excuse.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Grace.”  Emily returned the older man’s smile.

Chapter 20

Emily spun, admiring the gown in the mirror.  It was the most beautiful creation she had ever worn.

“How ever did you manage this?”  Emily was still awed at having an actual wedding dress.  The pale blue satin hugged her breasts then fell to the floor, as was the fashion.  Delicate capped sleeves ended with just a hint of ecru lace.  A small train fell behind.  In its simplicity it was elegant.

“I’ve had a month, dear.  Madame Theresa already had your measurements.”

“I only agreed to marry Chambers yesterday.”  Emily laughed.

“Yes, I know, but he asked last month.  I knew it was only a matter of time and decided not to waste a moment of it.

“Thank you.  It is beautiful.” She hugged the woman who had been a mother to her when both parents were gone.

“Now, to add your veil.”  Her Grace held up a delicate diamond studded tiara from which lace flowed from the tied ribbons.

Emily gasped. “This is too much.  After all, I’m only being married in the sitting room and I am not at all sure a tiara is appropriate in any circumstances.  Have you forgotten my father was only a professor?”  She laughed.

“It matters not where a bride weds, whether it be cathedral or drawing room, as long as she is dressed to look and feel like a bride. Besides, I think the tiara is quite appropriate.”

Emily couldn’t argue.  It was these simple details that made the day all the more special.

“Emily, I have brought your bouquet.”  Celia came into the room. In her hands was a nosegay of pink, white and red rosebuds.

Her eyes filled at the simple gift from Dillon’s daughter.  Soon to be her daughter as well.  “Thank you, Celia.  They are lovely.”

A glance at Her Grace confirmed Emily’s suspicions.  The woman was crying, trying to hide her tears with a handkerchief.  Emily was in danger of turning into a watering pot herself.  “Oh, Your Grace, please don’t or we will both be sporting red eyes and nose.  It will completely ruin the effects of this gown.”

The woman chuckled and dabbed her eyes.  “You’re correct.  We must get control of ourselves.”

* * *

The wedding was short. Only those friends closest to Dillon were in attendance. A celebration wedding breakfast followed and when asked if she would have preferred a grand wedding in one of the many cathedrals in London, Emily could honestly answer no.

As the festivities began to wane, Ellings drew both Emily and Dillon into the room he used as an office when visiting the estate manager.  He seated them in the chairs before his desk and provided each with a glass of Madeira before taking his own seat.

“Though this is a bit backwards, it is time we addressed the marriage settlement.”

“Please, Your Grace, we don’t need anything, nor is Dillon in a position to offer much.”  Emily began.

“His Grace and I have already discussed my situation in detail.”  Dillon assured her. He just hoped he didn’t make his wife angry so soon into the marriage.  He then turned to Ellings.

“I’ve given much thought on what you would like to settle on Emily.  Before I refused, but I have reconsidered my position.”

“Dillon, no.  His Grace has done more than enough by raising me after my father died.”

“May I ask why you have had a change of heart?”  Ellings watched Dillon with curiosity.

“I wish to see Emily’s future secure.  I will not touch the funds.  On that you have my promise.”  He paused to look at his wife.  “If something should happen to me, I don’t want Emily to rely on charity.  If my parents are still living I can guarantee that they won’t help and I would hate it if she had to return to you because she is without a home.”

“I think that is a wise decision.  Of course you know Emily, and Celia, will always have a home with me if the need ever arises.”

“Thank you, that does offer comfort.”  He straightened and cleared his throat.  “I’ll also need to work for you longer than anticipated.  If that is possible, Your Grace.”  Dillon was becoming uncomfortable and would have preferred his wife not see him ask for help.

“May I ask why, though I certainly have no objection?”

“I would like to build my investments and wealth for my daughter.” Dillon sat forward.  “Celia is just a year younger than Emily was when her father died.”

“He was much older than you,” Emily argued.

“Accidents and illnesses still happen.”  He smiled at her. “I have named Marius Parker as her guardian in the event of my demise and I would like to assure the funds are also available.”

Emily turned to face Dillon.  “You would have your daughter live with Marius over me.”

Dillon reached over and squeezed her hand and smiled.  “No, but a gentleman must be the guardian.  If one is not named, one will be appointed.”

“You want to take the opportunity from your parents,” Ellings observed.

“Exactly, Your Grace.  Celia will still reside with Emily and Marius will see to their financial needs, if necessary.  He will never interfere or take over, of that I can assure you.  It is simply protection for Celia.”

“Very wise, son,” Ellings acknowledged.

“I hope, Your Grace, that if this ever becomes an issue and my parents protest, you will side with my decision.”

“Of course.  They’ll have no more success than they did before.”  The older man smiled.

Dillon finally relaxed back in his chair, glad the interview had come to an end.

Ellings also sat back, cradling the glass in his hands, studying the young couple. After some moments he spoke.  “You two remind me of a couple I once knew.  I would like to tell you about them.”

Dillon and Emily looked at him.

The young man was of noble birth.  He was the fourth son who was expected to earn his own way since the heir and a spare were already in place.  Yet, his father still expected certain things out of him such as the right position in society, a wife with the right connections, and everything else society expects.

Dillon wondered what the point of the story was. If it were they lived happily ever after he wished Ellings would get to it. This was his wedding night after all.

“In the summer of his twenty-fourth year he decided to travel across England and see the countryside.  It was supposed to be the last pleasurable trip he took for himself without any responsibility weighing him down.  His older brother was recently married and the man assumed a new heir was just months to a year away putting him even further from the title he wanted nothing to do with.

During his tour he met a young lady of two and twenty.  She was lovely, sweet, genuine and kind.  She was everything he had hoped to find in a bride.”

Emily and Dillon exchanged glances, guessing where this was leading.

“You are correct.  She was not of the peerage, but her father was a gentleman by profession.  Still, she was far below this man’s status.  Though he should have moved on, the young man did not.  You see, he had fallen in love with this woman and wrote to his father.  It was the only thing he had ever asked for himself.”   Ellings bit out as if he were bitter over the entire matter.  “Until that day, the man had always been conscientious of his duty and always put those duties before his own pleasures and supported and helped his brothers in any way he could.”

“His father refused,” Emily guessed.

“Threatened to cut him off?”  Dillon added.

“And to disown him,” Ellings clarified.

“What happened?”  Emily sat forward in her seat.

“The young gentleman explained the circumstances to the young lady before asking her to marry him.

“She refused, didn’t she?”  Emily guessed again.

“Yes.”  Ellings chuckled.  “The young man then spoke with the girls’ father.  The father trusted in the sincerity of this gentleman and gave permission for the two to be married.”

“Did he force the girl to marry?”  Dillon asked.

“No, but the father allowed the groom to kidnap the bride and take her to Gretna Green.  They married in Scotland and never returned together. The girls’ father visited often, as did the man’s older brothers.  He never spoke to his own father again, nor did he ever let him know where he was because shortly after his marriage the two middle sons died and the father would stop at nothing to see that his sons did their duty.”

“What do you mean they didn’t return together?”  Emily asked.

“The young woman died seven years later, leaving one child.  The gentleman took his child and returned to England.”

“Did he make peace with his father?”  Emily asked.

“No.  The son didn’t even try to contact his father.”

“What did he do then, or is that the end of the story?”  Dillon asked, becoming uncomfortable and wondering exactly what the purpose was if there was no happily ever after ending.

“He took a post at Oxford under the name he had assumed in Edinburgh, where he had also taught at the university.”  Ellings looked pointedly at Emily, who slowly sank back into her chair.  Dillon also turned to her as this information became clear.

“My father was a nobleman?”  Emily asked in a quiet voice.

“He wasn’t just any nobleman.”  Ellings smiled.  “He was my younger brother.”

For the longest moment Emily stared at Ellings in shock.  “Why didn’t he ever tell me?  Why didn’t you?”

“When your father met your mother and married, he told me that for the first time in his life he was free and completely happy.  As the years passed, it became more and more evident that he had made the right decision.  His wish, no dream, was that you grow up with the same freedom.  As your uncle, I could place you in society where you could meet the highest of rank to the lowest.  Your father wanted you to have it all without the trappings that go with a title.  He was determined that the man who would marry a mere professor’s daughter was marrying for love and not connections.”

“You are actually my uncle,” Emily whispered.

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you but I had promised your father that I would hold my silence until you married.  Please don’t hate us for the betrayal or be angry.”

“I cannot ever hate you.  Though I am stunned at this moment, I’m sure I’m not angry either.”

Ellings seemed to finally relax at this assurance.

“Noah knows, doesn’t he?”  Dillon questioned.  The overprotectiveness Dillon sometimes witnessed from a mere friend was becoming all too clear.

“Yes. He learned after his father died.”

“Why?”  The couple asked in unison.

“Noah’s father visited once at school.  His father was the only parent to recognize my brother.  Apparently the two had actually been friends once and had attended school together.  Felding, the father, promised to keep the secret.  He was also named guardian to Emily if something were to happen to me.  The role was passed to Noah when he inherited.”

After some moments Emily spoke. “I only wish I would have known a few months back.  Matters would have been easier.”

“That is the very reason we weren’t told,” Dillon said before turning to Ellings.  “I had to be tested.”

“I’m glad you understand. I just wish I could see your mother’s face when she finds out.”

“You are welcome to join me when I tell her.”  Dillon grinned.

“That won’t be possible for your mother will learn of this with the rest of London.  Over her breakfast with the morning gossip rag.  Noah is writing the article as we speak.”

Dillon let out a laugh as he envisioned his mother sitting in the elegant dining room, the fragile china cup at her lips as she read the news of his nuptials to the duke’s niece.

“Now that this is behind us, it is time to discuss the real marriage settlement.”  Ellings opened the desk drawer and pulled out some documents.

“Your Grace, it is not necessary that you settle anything else on us,” Emily sat forward in protest.

“Yes, it is dear.  It will be yours or actually Dillon’s now.  I sincerely hope you accept your rightful dowry.  Your father wanted it this way.”  He lifted up the first document, but addressed her once again. “And please, call me uncle. I’ve waited so many years to hear it from you.”

“Very well, Uncle.”  Emily sighed.

“There are two properties which are not entailed.”  Ellings began.  “It is my wish, with the full agreement of the male heir, that each daughter be given one of these estates.”

Emily’s eyes popped open in surprise.

“Claresta’s is on the southern coast, near Dover.  It happens to be her favorite.”

“She loves the ocean and the beaches.”  Emily smiled. “Is it the one with the lighthouse?”

“Yes, it is.  Which estate do you love best, and always have?”

Emily was confused for a moment before she realized what her gift was.  “Rosewood?”  She asked in shock.

“Yes.”

He turned to Dillon.  “I hope you enjoy being a sheep farmer and can understand the textile business because this is now all your responsibility.”

Dillon couldn’t respond.  How did one respond to such an enormous, unexpected gift?

“The profits from this estate have been going into a trust for Emily since her father passed away.  It is quite enormous and I don’t believe you need your position with me any longer, nor will you have the time.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”  What was appropriate in this situation? He wasn’t sure the shock would ever wear off.

More titles from Jane Charles

A Gentleman’s Guide to Once Upon a Time Series

His Impetuous Debutante

His Contrary Bride

His (Not so) Sensible Miss

The Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies Series

To Walk in the Sun

To Love a Governess –Regency Short Series

Sacked

Handfasted

Ruined

The Tenacious Trents

Compromised for Christmas (A Summons from His Grace –Anthology)

A Misguided Lord

A Perfect Gentleman (coming soon)

Anthologies

Compromised for Christmas (A Summons from His Grace)

To Land a Laird (The Betting Season)

Devil in Her Dreams (A Season to Remember) – Coming Soon

About Jane

Jane Charles has lived in the Midwest her entire life. As a child she would more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand. In fact, Jane hated reading until she was sixteen. Out of boredom on a long road trip she borrowed her older sister’s historical romance and fell in love with reading. She long ago lost count of how many fiction novels she has read over the years and her love for them never died.  Along with romance she has a passion for history and the two soon combined when she penned her first historical romance.  What turned into a hobby became a passion, which has been fully supported by her husband, three children and three cats.

Jane can be contacted at: janecharles522@gmail.com

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