Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(15)

“My lady, forgive me. I know this questioning is far from conventional,” he said, filling the void of quiet. He tugged his ear. “Were you aware I’ve been friends with Drake since we were just thirteen?”

She started at the admission. “I wasn’t aware.” She should have known that. How strange to think two of Drake’s most significant relationships had been cemented when he’d been a boy of thirteen.

Sinclair continued. “He’d always been a fun boy, though angry when I met him because…” A dull flush stained his cheeks, “Because….”

“Because?” It didn’t take much to gather thirteen-year-old Drake had assuredly been upset because of his betrothal to her five-year-old self.

Sinclair rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking himself like a thirteen-year- old boy who’d been caught pouring ink in his tutor’s tea. “Any young boy would be less than thrilled at being betrothed to a young girl.”

She decided in that moment she liked Lord Sinclair a great deal. He did not feel inclined to mince words, and for that she respected him.

“We don’t have much time, so might I be candid, my lady?”

Emmaline giggled. She raised a hand to muffle the sound. “Oh dear, you haven’t been up to this point?”

Sinclair ignored the question. “May I ask if you are interested in marriage to Lord Drake because he is heir to a dukedom?”

If she weren’t so amused by the question, she was certain she’d have been insulted. “Are you asking whether I am interested in his fortunes? Whether I aspire to the role of duchess?”

He didn’t back down under the directness of her question. “My lady, Drake has been pursued the better part of his life for his title. Forgive me for being leery of any woman’s intentions.”

She sighed. “My lord, my life has been dictated for me since the moment I was born. Yes, Lord Drake was betrothed to me when he was thirteen, but might I remind you, I was only five. A mere babe. I have been as trapped by this betrothal as Lord Drake.” She paused, biting her lower lip. “I don’t aspire to a status, Lord Sinclair, I aspire to happiness.”

Sinclair ran a probing, hazel-green stare over her.

“Do you believe Drake can bring you happiness?” he asked with a bluntness that made her flinch.

Emmaline forced a smile. “I certainly hope so.” All Emmaline knew was she’d waited years for Drake. Had attended more balls and soirees than she could count, and even several masquerades. It had always been known that she was unmarriageable. During her first Season, she’d sat on the fringe watching all the young ladies who’d had their Come Out being courted, the recipients of poetry and flowers. Emmaline had received nary a flower. Not even one sonnet praising the hue of her hair or the glow in her eyes. She would have settled for even a poorly written poem.

Emmaline didn’t long for marriage because she desired a suitable match that would raise her status in Society. She wanted what all young women did, and yet would never admit—to be loved. She ached to know true love. She wanted a man to love her so helplessly, so desperately that he cared for nothing in the world but her.

Was it a fairytale she dreamed of? Perhaps. But it was what she yearned for. If it weren’t for it being her late father’s grandest wish that she wed Lord Drake, Emmaline would have tired of Drake’s disinterest years ago.

Well, the time of waiting for Drake to come up to scratch was at an end. She needed to determine if he was the man who could give her all those things she yearned for…and if not, well then she needed to move on.

Lord Sinclair didn’t say another word. Instead, he reached into the front of his black jacket and fished out a small parchment of paper. He handed the folded sheet to her.

Emmaline took it and opened the note. She glimpsed at it puzzled, and then looked up at him.

“They are the events Lord Drake is planning on attending for the next several nights.”

Emmaline’s mind was slow to process his words. Sinclair couldn’t possibly have known her intentions to pursue Drake. The only soul who knew of her plans was Sophie, and Sophie would never have betrayed her confidence.

“Should you choose to attend the events, I’m sure Lord Drake would be elated to see you.” He proceeded to fill in the details of his plan. “It is my hope that Drake can finally honor your betrothal, my lady. I believe should he take the time to know you, he will then cease….” His philandering ways. The indelicate words did not need to be spoken.

Her gaze dropped to the list. “Why are you doing this?” She raised her eyes to his.

Lord Sinclair’s expression grew veiled. “I can’t imagine you like existing in this suspended universe, my lady. You are neither wed nor pursued.”

Emmaline’s brow wrinkled. It hardly sounded flattering when stated in such a way.

“My lady, I meant no offense. I am simply providing—"

“The reason I should go along with your plans,” she finished for him. “I understand.”

A swell of applause resonated throughout the theatre, and from the other side of the curtain, Sophie nervously cleared her throat.

Lord Sinclair did not seem at all alarmed by the threat of discovery. “Lord Drake is a very different man from the boy you once knew. He has not been the same since…”