Page 68 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“He says he is a relative of yours, Your Grace.”
She stopped walking. She had no male relatives to speak of — none who would trouble themselves to travel to Blackthorne. The uneasy feeling that had started in the pit of her stomachwhen Heathcliff first appeared spread outward, slowly, until it reached every part of her.
Then she stepped through the drawing room doors, and that feeling turned to ice.
“Emmett.”
Sitting in the wing chair before the fireplace Huxley’s brother, Emmett Graham, the current Baron Vale. He rose and looked at her with the particular expression she remembered — that combination of contempt and calculation that his brother had perfected first.
“Helena,” he said.
“Her Grace, the Duchess of Blackthorne,” Heathcliff said from behind her, formally announcing her as though this were a social call of the ordinary kind. She glanced back at him and gave a small nod of gratitude before dismissing him.
Emmett blinked, and then apparently remembered both his manners and the relevant social protocol. He bowed — not deeply, but sufficiently. “Your Grace,” he said, when he straightened. “You look well.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Please sit.”
He did, though she could see how much he disliked being directed. She took the chair across from him and waited.
“Being a Duchess suits you,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“Especially given your background.” He smiled. It did not reach his eyes. “I never imagined I would be calling on you as a Duchess.”
“Life has a way of surprising us all.”
“Fate,” he said, flatly. “If you wish to call it that.” He settled back in the chair and folded his hands. “I find myself wondering how you managed it. First my brother, whom you deceived about your background, and now this. Though I suppose I should not be too surprised by His Grace. He married a charlatan once before. It stands to reason he would do it again.”
“I would appreciate it,” she said, keeping her voice very even, “if you did not speak of my husband in that way.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You can drop the pretense with me, Helena. I know this is no true marriage. It is some manner of arrangement, is it not? I would simply like to understand what it is you have over him. Whatever leverage you have managed to obtain would be rather useful to me in the House of Lords. These dukes all think themselves above the rest of us.”
She held her tongue. The irony of a man who had just dismissed her on account of her low birth now complaining that titledmen looked down on him was almost more than she could bear quietly.
“I assure you,” she said, “I have no leverage over my husband. The only thing that concerns you is that we are married, and that I will not be writing to you for assistance again.”
That produced a short laugh. “Won’t you? You mean you will have your husband do it instead? As he did before?”
She went very still.
“You did not know,” Emmett said, and something shifted in his expression. It was not quite pleasure, but close to it. “How interesting, given how blissfully married the two of you are supposed to be.” He shrugged. “Yes. He wrote to me. Shamed me into it, more or less. Said I was leaving a widow and an infant to live in squalor in Bloomsbury.”
The money. The unexpected funds that had arrived before she and Gideon had decided to marry. The money that had allowed her to settle her debts and begin to breathe again. She had never understood why Emmett had sent it, and she had not pressed the matter, too relieved to ask questions.
Gideon had done that. He had done it quietly and said nothing.
She said nothing, but would have to consider what she thought of this later on.
“In any case,” Emmett continued, “that was a trifle. What brings me here is rather more significant.” He paused. “The Laurendale property.”
She had wondered. The moment she saw him, she had wondered. The Laurendale property was a plot of land with a small manor house, left to Lavinia in Huxley’s will. It was nearly the only thing Huxley had left their daughter. It was a modest inheritance, but a real one.
“What of it?” she said.
“I would like it returned to the family holdings.”
“It is in the family holdings. It belongs to Lavinia. She is the daughter of the former Lord Vale.”
