Nevertheless, she offered a brief curtsy and a warm smile. “Your Grace.”
In return, Caroline didn’t waste any time in announcing, “My son sent along his regrets this morning. I fear that he won’t be able to join us for church, as estate business detains him in the country.”
Emary felt a slight buzzing in her ears, a warning for what was to come, but she did her best to keep her disappointment from showing. “He is a busy man,” she deferred. “I’m sure he would be here if he could.”
The older woman sighed heavily. “Do you truly believe that?”
Emary threaded her hands together before her. There was no use skipping about the matter at hand. “I suppose he’s rather angry at me.”
“I don’t think he’s angry so much as…confused,” the dowager returned gently.
Emary sank down onto the settee. “Don’t you think it’s time I put an end to this farce—”
The dowager’s blue eyes widened in horror. “Absolutely not!” she returned vehemently. She walked over and sat beside Emary, taking her hands in hers. “I believe that you love him, do you not?”
Emary nodded. There was no use pretending otherwise when in her heart she knew it was true.
“And you wish to be his wife?” her future mother-in-law persisted.
She swallowed thickly. “Yes.”
“Then as I see it, you must go to him at once. You have to make him see reason.”
Emary’s jaw went slack. “But, I can’t…I mean, my mother would never allow—”
“Let me worry about that,” the dowager countered. “As long as you take your maid with you, the proprieties shall be observed. Your parents and I shall go to services this morning to present a united front, while you take my carriage to Basildon. My driver knows the way to Windwood Hall located just on the outskirts of town.”
Emary bit her lower lip, tempted, and yet… “What if he refuses to see me? What if it’s all for naught?”
Caroline’s face softened. “I know that you are genuine in your affections, Miss Pageant, however it all may have begun. But if you wish to see Donovan waiting for you down the aisle at St. Paul’s on Christmas Eve, you must convince him that you are serious in your regard.” Her blue gaze was imploring. “My son has suffered much, both in his youth because of his father’s stern hand, and later upon the battlefield. He feels that he isn’t deserving of love, but I know in my heart that he truly cares for you. The question is, are you willing to risk it all for him in return?”
Emary hesitated, but she knew there was no doubt in her mind regarding which course she would take. In truth, it had been decided from the first moment she glimpsed that towering blond head in the crowd. “Yes. I will.”
And she knew just what to do.
Donovan reined his mount in at the top of a hill. The wind was cold and brisk today with the threat of snow on the graying horizon, but from here, he could look down at his massive, limestone estate and appreciate everything that went along with his title, his role as a servant to the Crown and his country.
A wave of pride washed over him — followed by a swift burst of guilt. Of course he knew the reason for that, for it was the true reason he’d had to escape his study, so he wouldn’t be staring at the clock on the mantel and thinking about what was happening in London. The last of the marriage banns between him and Emary were likely being read at this very moment — and yet, here he was, hiding out at his estate near Basildon instead of facing his fiancée. Coward, his inner voice chided, and he blew out a heavy breath, because he knew it was true. He might have faced down those French frogs and carried one of the highest ranks in the aristocracy, and yet, one sable haired chit had managed to break through his reserve with one glance of those mesmerizing chocolate-colored eyes.
Love at first sight. He had to snort, but yet, it seemed entirely too accurate.
He clenched his fists on the reins, causing his horse to prance nervously beneath him. He forced himself to relax, although his mind was still in turmoil. Even after seven days in relative seclusion, he still hadn’t been able to focus on anything but Emary and how he’d love to see her lovely body lain out like a sacrificial offering upon his bed.
He released a heavy breath. Nothing good could come from such musings. He desired Emary to the point of distraction, that was true, and he knew that these emotions rolling around inside his chest were foreign to anything else he’d ever felt before, but he was also smart enough to know that it took more than attraction and lust to make a marriage survive. The truth was, he was a broken man, who still suffered from the nightmares of a battlefield, not to mention his distrust in everything around him. So could he, in all good conscience, inflict that sort of life on an innocent who thought he was capable of a normal existence, when he would likely be plagued with such turbulent thoughts for the rest of his days?
If war had taught him anything, it was loss. While it might cause his chest to ache with a raw pain unlike anything he’d known before, even the burning slash of the sword across his face, he had made his decision. In the short time he’d known Emary, he had come to respect and admire the woman she was. He’d even made his peace with the fact that although he might have been singled by Emary in the beginning, she had been determined and resilient enough to ensnare him. And ensnare him she had, both heart and soul.
Donovan suddenly narrowed his eyes as he spied a black coach in the distance. He set his jaw. No doubt it was his mother coming home to give him one of her many lectures. He could only imagine how she would react when he told her that he intended to put an end to this engagement. He urged his horse into a canter. It was best to get it over with now.
He reached the gravel drive at the same time the carriage came to a halt, but when he would have greeted his mother with a note of derision in his tone, it wasn’t the dowager who alighted…
Emary smoothed her hands down the front of her purple velvet pelisse and touched the brim of her matching bonnet once the coach rolled to a stop. She had no idea what she might even say to Donovan when she saw him. And if he flat out refused to see her? Perhaps he might at least look at what she’d brought him.
Caroline had taken the lead and been able to convince Emary’s mother to allow her to remain home from church. After the dowager had told her parents that Donovan wasn’t going to be in attendance, Emary’s mother had paled considerably, thinking the worst. When Caroline went on to explain that Emary should stay behind to give the appearance that they were somewhere else together, Lady Armenton had reluctantly agreed.
As her parents and the dowager were leaving, Caroline had given Emary one last speaking look over her shoulder. The moment the door shut behind them, Emary flew upstairs and grabbed Althea. Once she’d told her maid what she had planned, she’d grabbed her manuscript and shoved it in a satchel and they were on their way.
Thankfully, Althea had been gifted with little conversational skills on the way to Windwood Hall, for Emary had been a bundle of nervous energy. She’d had nearly two hours to think upon what she might say to Donovan, and yet she was no closer to finding the right argument to convince him that they were meant to be together. Who would have thought that three simple words — I love you — would be so difficult to speak aloud? But then, it was the genuine meaning behind them that was the hardest to relay. Would he even believe her claim? Or would he scoff at her confession and turn her away? After that viperous Miranda had caused his head to fill with doubts, she wasn’t sure she could convince him that she was sincere. But she knew she had to try.
Emary was still conflicted when the door to the carriage opened and a footman helped her alight.
She gasped, for before her stood a massive golden stallion, a coat so shiny and brilliant that it nearly glowed, even among an overcast December sky.
But it was the man who sat atop the mount that truly caused her heart to pound.
Donovan was casually dressed in a pair of navy blue trousers that disappeared into a pair of black Hessians. His white, cambric shirt was open at the throat and rolled up to his elbows with no waistcoat or cravat to speak of. With his golden hair tousled and his blue eyes sparkling, the white scar a stark contrast against his lightly sun-bronzed skin, he quite literally stole her ability to speak. He was normally so put together, but surrounded by the relaxed atmosphere of his country estate, he was more devilishly handsome than if he were fully dressed in a London ballroom.
It wasn’t until she glanced up and met his gaze that she felt her heart wither in her chest. His jaw was hard and unrelenting, his blue eyes frosty chips of ice as he said curtly, “I suppose my mother set you up to this.” He dismounted abruptly, handing the reins over to a waiting groom — and then he turned his back on her, his intentions quite clear.
Emary couldn’t move, her legs were frozen as shock and dismay overwhelmed her. All of the carefully rehearsed speeches she’d run over and over in her head dissipated like smoke in the face of his painful desertion. Up until that point, she’d believed that she’d meant more to him, that he really had come to care for her and would forgive what she’d done. She wanted to be mad, to rant at how unfair he was being, but instead, when she opened her mouth, a broken plea emerged. “Donovan, please…I’m sorry.”
She feared that he would keep walking, but he hesitated with his foot on the first step leading to the entrance of his grand manor house. His butler was standing with the door open, waiting for his master, but slowly, Donovan lowered his head and finally turned around to face her. The butler, along with the rest of the assembled servants around them, gradually melted away, as if they realized a delicate conversation was about to take place.
Emary’s throat burned with remorse as they were left alone. She knew she couldn’t keep standing there like some sort of statue, so she took a tentative step forward. “It was wrong of me to treat you as some sort of prize to be won,” she began sincerely. “I daresay I got so caught up in the social whirl, so intent on proving my worth to the ton, that I didn’t think of all the repercussions, of how everything would…end up.”
