To Taste Temptation (Legend of the Four Soldiers #1)(89)

“That’s all right,” Emeline said gruffly, and handed her a handkerchief. What else could she say? She was almost certain that she herself was the cause of Rebecca’s grief. “Shall I ring for tea?”

The girl nodded, and Emeline led her to a chair while she gave orders to the maid.

“I just wish things could be different,” Rebecca said when the maid left again. She sat twisting the handkerchief in her hands.

“As do I.” Emeline sat on a settee and arranged her skirts with far too much care. Perhaps if she didn’t look at the girl, she could get through this. “Have you set a date when you will leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

Emeline looked up. “That soon?”

The younger woman shrugged. “Samuel found a berth on a ship just yesterday. He says we will sail tomorrow and leave the bulk of our belongings to be packed and sent on a later vessel.”

Emeline winced. Samuel must want to be quit of England—of her—very badly.

“Is it because you don’t love him?” Rebecca burst out.

The question was so sudden, so startling, that Emeline answered without thinking. “No.” She caught her breath at the near-admission and shook her head. “There are so many things.”

“Can you tell me?”

Emeline stood and paced to the fireplace. “There’s rank and position, of course.”

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

Emeline couldn’t bear to look at the younger woman, so she stared into the glowing fire instead. “You come from a different country, one so far away. I don’t think that Samuel would want to make his home here in England.”

Rebecca was silent, but her very stillness demanded explanation.

“I have my family to think about.” Emeline inhaled. “There’s only Daniel and Tante Cristelle now, but they depend on me.”

“And you believe that Daniel and your aunt would refuse to sail to America?”

Put like that, her objection was an obvious fabrication. Yes, Tante Cristelle would grumble at a sea voyage, but the old lady need not even leave England if she did not wish to do so. And Daniel would probably be ecstatic at the mere thought of seeing America.

Emeline twisted her fingers into the gathers at her waist. “I don’t know...” She looked up and met Rebecca’s eyes. “They all left me, you see. Reynaud and my husband and Father. I don’t think I can do that again—trust in another to keep me safe.”

Rebecca frowned. “I don’t understand. Samuel would never allow anyone to harm you.”

Emeline laughed, although the sound was rusty. “Yes, that’s what I grew up thinking. Even though the matter was never articulated aloud, it was understood that the gentlemen of my family would cherish me and keep me safe. That I would never have to fear for my situation. They would manage the affairs, and I would be a lovely companion and care for their home. But it didn’t work out that way, did it? First Reynaud was lost to the war in the Colonies; then Danny died when we were both very young, and then Father”—she caught her breath because she had never said this last to anyone—“then Father died and I was abandoned, don’t you see? With Reynaud gone, the title, the estates, everything went to a cousin.”

“They left you without money?”

“No.” Emeline’s hand jerked, and she heard stitches tearing on her gown. “Obviously I have enough money. The Gordon income is quite sufficient. I only chaperone for pin money. But I no longer had anyone to lean on, don’t you see? They all left me. Now I make the decisions in my life and the lives of Tante Cristelle and my son. I worry over the investments and whether Daniel should go to Eton soon. I must watch the land stewards to make sure they do not embezzle my monies. There is no one else I trust, no one else I depend upon save myself.”

She shook her head, knowing what she was trying to say was intangible. “I can’t relax, you see. I can’t just...be.”

How odd that she would confess this to Rebecca now when she’d been entirely unable to talk to Samuel about this.

The younger woman knit her brows. “I think I understand. You can never lay down your burdens. There’s no one you trust to carry them for you.”

“Yes. Yes, that’s it,” Emeline exclaimed in relief.

“But...” Rebecca gazed up at her, puzzled. “You plan to marry Lord Vale soon.”

“It won’t matter. I love Jasper as a brother, but marriage to him won’t change a whit the way I live and conduct my life. If he leaves me or dies as the others have, I will be just the same.”

Rebecca stared at her silently. Outside the sitting room, voices murmured in the hall.

“You’re afraid Samuel will die,” Rebecca murmured. “You love him and you’re too afraid to commit yourself to him.”

Emeline blinked. Fear seemed such a childish, cowardly reason to reject Samuel. That couldn’t be right. She tried to explain. “No, I—”

The door to the sitting room opened. Emeline turned, frowning, at the interruption. A maid entered, bearing a tray of tea. Immediately behind her was Mr. Thornton.

Dear Lord, what was the man doing here?

The little man advanced into the room, his face wreathed in a smile. He had smiled each time she’d seen him previously, but now the expression seemed twisted, not quite right. It was as if he sought to conceal the terrible thoughts in his brain by hiding behind a cheerful facade. Why had she never noticed it before? Was his self-control slipping, or had her new knowledge colored her perceptions of the man?