A Dangerous Game (Regency Spies & Secrets Book 2) Laura Beers (best summer books .txt) 📖

Mary gave her a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“When we were alone, Lord Oliver was different,” she shared. “He made me feel special and valued. But his entire demeanor changed when he was around other people.”

“Which one do you suppose is the act, then?”

Emmeline frowned. “Or did I read into something that wasn’t there?”

“I don’t know, but you should have at least considered his offer,” Mary said. “It would have saved you from the duke.”

“Can you imagine the scandal if I jilted the duke and eloped with Lord Oliver?” she asked. “My reputation would never recover.”

“But you would have had the protection of Lord Oliver’s name.”

“True,” Emmeline said as she ran her fingers along the fringe of the pillow. “Perhaps I was too hasty in refusing his offer.”

“Perhaps you can convince him to still marry you.”

Emmeline’s hand stilled. “How would I accomplish that feat?”

“Go and inform him that you have changed your mind,” Mary suggested.

“That would never work.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, it is not as if I could call on Lord Oliver,” Emmeline said. “A lady must never call upon a gentleman.”

“Go under the ruse of seeing Lady Jane.”

“And say what?”

Mary smiled. “Do I have to think of everything?”

Emmeline placed the pillow to the side and rose. “I suppose I could always say I was confounded at his proposal, and I have had time to consider it.”

“That sounds perfect,” Mary encouraged.

Emmeline winced. “What if he refuses me?” she asked. “It would be mortifying.”

“But isn’t it a chance worth taking?”

Walking over to the window, Emmeline glanced out the darkened window. “I am to choose between an old duke or a rakehell.” She placed her hands on the windowsill and sighed. “How did I end up here?”

“You could always become a companion or governess.”

Emmeline’s shoulders slumped. “Why did I have the misfortune of being born a woman?”

“If you want me to pity you, I do not,” Mary declared, rising from the bed. “You have the choice of becoming the Duchess of Billingham or Lady Oliver.”

“I do apologize,” Emmeline said. “I’m afraid I am at a crossroads and I am unsure which way to take.”

“Which one does your heart tell you to take?”

Emmeline huffed as she straightened from the windowsill. “My heart has nothing to do with this choice.”

“It should.”

A knock came at the door before it was opened. Her aunt stepped into the room and gave her a terse smile.

“I need a moment alone with my niece,” Betty said in a steely tone.

Mary dropped into a curtsy. “Yes, milady.”

After her lady’s maid left, closing the door behind her, Betty stepped further into the room, and a frown marred her annoyed features, her lips thinning out into a line. “I understand that you not only danced with Lord Oliver, but you took a stroll around the gardens with him.”

“I see that Mrs. Jackson tattled on me… again,” Emmeline remarked.

“She may be your companion, but she is under our employ.”

Emmeline rested her head on the windowsill. “How silly of me to forget that small detail.”

Clasping her hands in front of her, Betty remarked, “Need I remind you that you will be a duchess soon, and your reputation needs to be above reproach?”

“I am more than aware of what is expected of me.”

“Then why would you even associate with the likes of Lord Oliver?”

“He is my friend.”

“Even after everything he did to our family,” Betty declared.

Emmeline attempted to keep her face expressionless as she replied, “Charlotte was the one who broke the engagement, not Lord Oliver.”

“We were most fortunate that Lord Albert was willing to overlook a broken engagement,” Betty said.

“Yes, Charlotte was lucky,” Emmeline remarked dryly.

Betty’s expression softened. “I know you miss her, my dear,” she responded, “as do I, but life does move forward whether we want it to or not.”

“I do miss Charlotte,” she admitted.

Betty stepped closer. “You have endured many hardships these past two years,” she said, “but you mustn’t give up hope.”

“I’m struggling, Aunt Betty.”

Betty reached out and tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. “All the more reason for you to marry the duke and secure your future.”

“But I don’t want to marry him.”

“Not this again,” Betty said with a sigh. “I thought we had properly put this to rest.”

“He is eighty years old.”

“You must take comfort in knowing that he will die soon,” Betty replied. “You only have to endure a few years with him, and then you will be comfortable for the rest of your days.”

“I have heard whispers that he still retains a mistress across Town.”

“Most likely, but you do not need to concern yourself with that.”

Emmeline’s lips parted. “You cannot be in earnest.”

“Just consider yourself lucky that he is warming someone else’s bed,” Betty remarked with a flip of her hand. “Trust me, you will understand precisely what I mean when you are wed.”

“He just wants me to bear him a son.”

“That is what most men want,” Betty said. “That, and a dutiful wife.”

“I am not sure I can do either.”

Betty placed a hand on her shoulder. “What you are feeling is just nerves,” she explained. “It is commonplace for every bride to feel them.”

“I don’t think I am feeling nerves.”

“You are,” Betty declared. “I had the same reaction when I discovered that George and I were to be married.”

“You had an arranged marriage?”

Betty nodded. “George’s father was tired of his wild ways and decided that he needed a bride. He contacted my father, and they drafted a contract without my knowledge.”

“How terrible.”

“But it wasn’t,” Betty contended. “Our union may have started out as a marriage of convenience, but we have developed mutual affection towards one another. I even look the other way when I hear rumors of his dalliances.”

“I don’t want that for my life.”

Betty lowered her hand to the side. “We have arranged the most advantageous marriage for you. You shall be the envy of the ton.”

“I don’t believe that to be true,” Emmeline remarked. “When I was at the ball, I discovered that gentlemen are placing