Page 48 of To Have & To Hold

“I am not sure what His Grace told you about Sarah, or if he has even spoken of her at all. But I think you should know that I urged Sarah to end their engagement.”

Emilia tried not to let her surprise show, but she could not help the sinking feeling that came with the confirmation that her husband had once intended to marry Miss Weston.

“I do not wish for you to think that I did not believe him to be a good man—quite the contrary. In truth, there were times that I thought him to be too good.” Grace’s eyes twinkled. “There was a sort of affection in his eyes when he looked at Sarah that I did not see returned in hers. She had admired him, but I truly believed he deserved to be regarded with the same love he seemed to feel for her.”

Emilia’s hands clutched her skirts as she forced a polite smile. “My husband’s life before I knew him is not any of my concern.”

“There is a reason I am telling you all of this, and I assure you it is not to upset you,” Grace reassured her. She took a breath, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before she continued. “I am not going to pretend that I know your husband well, but I know how to spot a man in love. And when I saw him look at you this evening, I realized that whatever he felt for Sarah pales in comparison to what he feels for you.”

Emilia’s heart fluttered. She could not deny the attraction that had simmered between them since the day they met, but even in her dreams, she had never allowed herself to believe that the duke could fall in love with her.

Grace reached out and grasped Emilia’s hand. “He may not yet be fully aware of his feelings, but if there is any part of your heart that holds affection for him in return, do not hide it—tend to it. Allow it to bloom into something beautiful. For whatever this life may bring you, the most cherished thing that you will ever possess, and the thing that will hold you together when you feel as if all else is broken, is love. Your marriage may not have had the most traditional of beginnings, but that does not mean it is beyond hope.”

Emilia wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. She was unsure if what Grace had observed ofNathaniel was true, but for the first time, she had hope that maybe happiness was not out of reach for her.

“My love, we are leaving,” Lord Blackburn announced as he swept into the room. Nathaniel followed close behind, both men wearing expressions that were a startling contrast to the jovial demeanors they had worn most of the evening.

“Is everything alright?” Grace asked as she stood, taking her husband’s arm.

“Everything is fine,” Oliver replied, shooting a sharp gaze back towards the duke. “Emilia, it was lovely to see you again. I wish you the very best of luck.”

Nathaniel huffed. There was clearly more to Oliver’s sharp comment than Emilia was able to decipher.

“Thank you,” she said warily. “I look forward to seeing you both again at Langley House.”

Grace curtsied before Oliver pulled her from the room without so much as a glance in Nathaniel’s direction.

Emilia could hear Lady Blackburn scolding her husband as they made their way down the hall and towards the foyer.

Emilia arched a brow at Nathaniel, who still stood silently by the doorway.

“Did something happen?” She asked, making her way to stand in front of him. She could scarcely look at him without considering everything Grace had said—every twitch of his jaw and each tiny shift of posture seemed to hold more meaning—or perhaps she was only imagining it.

Nathaniel looked at her, but his eyes somehow seemed darker than normal—like a clear blue sky dimmed by a gathering storm.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself over,” he said as he reached a hand out towards her face. He stopped just short of her cheek, his fingers hovering over a stray curl as though he had intended to brush it away. He cleared his throat and let his hand drop to his side.

“I seem to have developed a headache. I think I will retire early.”

Emilia nodded silently as she watched him leave, the small spark of hope she had felt beginning to dim.

∞∞∞

Emilia could not recall a time in her life when she wished she were more beautiful. Beauty generally didn’t bring anything but pain—the painful conversation of shallow men, or the pain that came from having your heart broken by those who cared for nothing but outward appearances and reputations, both of which were as fleeting as the affection they offered. But sitting in front of her dressing room mirror, examining every flaw in her appearance, she couldn’t help but wish there was something she could do to improve upon it.

Her aunt had always made sure she was aware of each and every imperfection she possessed. Her shoulders were too soft,and her face too round. Her eyes were an in-between shade of green and brown, and her nose was too short and stout to be considered elegant.

Her porcelain skin was the only part of her that could have been described as beautiful, if it were not for the dusting of freckles over her nose, shoulders, and arms. When she stayed inside, they faded considerably, but they were never invisible.

Powders and creams aided in this regard, but they did not do much for the unfortunate pink coloring that made an appearance anytime she stepped into the sun, or she found herself in an uncomfortable situation—which did not bode well for what she was about to walk into.

“You look breathtaking, Your Grace.”

Her lady’s maid stood behind her, beaming in the mirror. Emilia forced a smile, not wishing to offend all the hard work she had done.

She really had done a marvelous job. Emilia had never seen her curls tamed to such perfection. They still held their natural shape, but each one stood out against the other as they wrapped around her head before being pinned into place at the top with just a few wispy locks falling around her face. Braids of golden ribbon were woven in and out of the shiny red curls.

“Thank you, Sophie,” she turned her head to better admire the girl’s work. Objectively, the style was beautiful, Emilia simply wished the rest of her could have been elevated enoughto match. “You did a wonderful job. I could have never imagined my hair could look like this.”