Page 135 of A Foolish Flirtation

“You could likely have convinced me though,” she pointed out, “and seduced me away from my father’s protection.”

He looked torn, propping his head on his hand. “I wanted to, believe me, but I wanted better for you always, Emmeline. You deserved better than being some man’s kept woman, even if that man was me. Though, if I had known you would turn around and get engaged to a married man—” he started wrathfully.

“Yes, that was stupid of me.”

“It was not remotely stupid,” he said, abruptly changing his tune. “You were horribly deceived.”

“And my heart was broken, so I did not really care who I married. I just did what my father asked of me.”

“As did I,” Jeremy concurred. “So, neither of us was really at fault for our first disastrous attempts toward the altar. Our second attempt, however, is a resounding success.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do.”

She tipped her head to one side in consideration. “Do you know, if you had approached my father, he would have been quite dumbfounded. He thought me utterly lacking in appeal and frequently lamented the fact I took after his side of the family and not my mother’s. His people were all very solid and stocky. It was a great disappointment to him that I was not a slender beauty.”

“He must have been a fool,” Jeremy said dismissively. “You are a beauty and not everyone favors the slender kind. No wonder he blundered so badly over Stockton. He had a huge blind spot where you were concerned.”

Emmie forced a smile. She should not have raised her father as a subject. It always made her feel a little sad.

Jeremy slid an arm about her shoulders. “You know when I was young, my father would always tell me that his bastard was worth two of me. He blamed my mother, of course. It’s in the breeding he would say. I favored my damme and not my sire. Then, when I grew older, he was forced to concede that my temperament was nothing like my mother’s. As you know, I was very wild. I was expelled from Eton, got sent down from Oxford, and blotted my copy book in every way known to privileged youth.”

“And that did not please him either?” she guessed, touched that he was sharing this with her.

He snorted. “I think it did in a way. He could do nothing with me, which infuriated him, but apparently, he would brag of my excesses among his cronies. Said I might take after my mother in looks but I was full to the brim with vices. A family trait apparently.”

“Aren’t fathers funny?” Emmie sighed. “Do you think we would have turned out differently if our mothers had been around?”

Jeremy considered this a moment before replying shamefacedly, “Truth to tell, I do not think mine would have wielded much influence over me. Everything I have since learned from Mina leads me to believe her entreaties would have fallen on deaf ears and I would not have heeded her one bit.”

“I expect you would have been charming to her though,” she responded loyally.

“Oh, I am sure. Mina says she would have doted on me and hung on my every word. I expect I would have been her darling boy who could do no wrong. If anything, she would likely have influenced me for the worst!” Emmie laughed. She could not help it. He grinned. “I expect she would have been an awful mother-in-law to you as well. Always aiding and abetting me and encouraging my worst excesses.”

“Very likely! Rather like old Mrs. Rumstead,” she said, thinking of a terrible old woman she had met in one of his farmers’ cottages, wielding her malign influence over three daughters-in-law, and spoiling her youngest son.

Jeremy rolled over her. “Let us not discuss my tenants at this juncture.”

“Oh? What would you rather discuss?”

“What kind of mistress you would have made me,” he said, robbing Emmie of all breath.

“What do you think?” she asked breathlessly.

“A fantastic one,” he said thickly, and she decided to prove his theory right.

32

They did not emerge for supper. Instead, Jeremy had their meal sent up to their private dining room. “We won’t send for Teddy tonight,” he decided. “He can take supper in his nursery and fully reflect on his sins.”

“You know, the fact he’s getting up to all sorts must be a good sign, as far as his recovering health is concerned,” Emmie reflected, drawing on her frothy wrapper.

“True. He’ll definitely be ready for school in September, I know that much.”

“He still seems rather young to me, to send away to boarding school,” Emmie said.

“To be honest, he was fine at Paverton Hall last time. It was me that missed him so much I jumped on the first excuse to recall him.”