Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(81)

Emmaline dropped the curtain and leveled Drake with a reproachful look. “Do behave.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, love,” he whispered, loving the pink blush that stained her cheeks.

He rapped once on the roof of the carriage and the footman promptly opened the door. The young man kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

Drake climbed out of the carriage and held a hand up. Emmaline placed her fingers in his and allowed him to help her down. They proceeded to walk up the steps of their new home.

The staff stood in a small, neat row in the foyer. The housekeeper and butler rushed forward.

“My lord, my lady, welcome. I am Mrs. Brown.” The round housekeeper with plump, merry cheeks dropped a small curtsy. “It is an honor, my lady.”

A warm smile wreathed Emmaline’s face, and the housekeeper fairly preened. Yes, Emmaline had that effect on most people. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Brown. It is so nice to meet you.”

The butler cleared his throat and Emmaline directed her attention to the small man. Nearly an inch shorter than Emmaline, he comported himself with stiff, proper decorum. “If we might introduce you to the rest of the staff,” he said, his tone laced with disapproval of Mrs. Brown's unfiltered emotions.

Mrs. Brown gave him a pert look, and made a disapproving sound. “Grumpy ole’ thing,” she said to Emmaline in a loud whisper that carried around the foyer.

Emmaline laughed.

Mrs. Brown beamed and turned approvingly to Drake. “I like her, my lord.”

Drake winked. “Which is a good thing, Mrs. Brown, as I’ve no intention of returning her.”

Mr. Smith cleared his throat yet again. “Mrs. Brown.”

Mrs. Brown’s response was to give the man another disapproving glance. “I heard you, I heard you. No need to be such a Napoleon.”

At last, Mr. Smith was ruffled. He propped his hands upon his hips and took a step towards the taller Mrs. Brown. “How dare you, you impertinent bit of baggage. The only reason the Captain agreed to hire you was because—”

Drake gave a sharp clap. “That is quite enough.”

Mr. Smith flushed. “My apologies, Cap’n,” he muttered, dropping his head.

Drake leaned close to his wife and whispered for her ears alone. “The staff is largely made up of soldiers and their families. I hope it does not offend you, my lady.” A sudden uncertainty plagued Drake. He wanted Emmaline to be pleased and knew the servants he’d assembled were a good deal less than conventional.

Emmaline glanced down the line at their rather unconventional staff, her expression inscrutable. Her eyes lingered on the stiff, erect form of Mr. Smith, a military man, and then the gregarious Mrs. Brown, who’d followed the drum. She finally looked at Drake. “I think it is brilliant, husband.”

He released a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“Come, my lady, I’m sure you are ready to go above stairs now,” Mrs. Brown interrupted.

“You ain’t to interrupt. It just ain’t done.” Mr. Smith couldn’t contain himself. His deeply lined cheeks went ruddy at his second uncharacteristic loss of control.

The housekeeper favored him with a wink and a cheeky smile. She took Emmaline by the arm. “Come on, luvvie. Let us get you ready for the captain.”

Ten different shades of red colored Emmaline’s cheeks as she looked over her shoulder at Drake, as if she were silently pleading with him to rescue her.

He winked.

***

Emmaline didn’t have any choice but to be steered up the staircase, to her chambers. When they entered, Emmaline found her maid, Grace stood removing articles of clothing from Emmaline’s trunks.

Grace smiled. “My lady,” she greeted with a curtsy.

“Grace,” she returned and then her eyes fell to the bed behind Grace, where an elaborate white silk peignoir had been laid out. Her eyes traveled over the delicate fabric adorned with a pearl-encrusted bodice and trimmed with intermittent diamonds. It was stunning.

Mrs. Brown shared a look with Grace. “It will be a fine night for His Lordship. And for my lady, I venture,” Mrs. Brown said in a hushed whisper.

Grace laughed, even as Emmaline’s cheeks heated with embarrassment.Her maid rushed forward. “Come, come, let me help ready you!”

Mrs. Brown made an approving sound. “If you have any need of me, just ring.” With that, she left.

Emmaline allowed Grace to assist her out of her wedding gown and into the silk piece. The smooth silk fluttered over her like the velvety petals of a rosebud, and she shivered as cool fabric met her naked skin. Faintly trembling hands ran along the sides of her nightgown.

She felt...

…naked.

“You are stunning, my lady,” Grace murmured. She removed the pins from Emmaline’s hair, and began brushing the long brown locks until they fell freely, loosely about her waist.

Emmaline stared at her reflection in the bevel mirror. For nearly the first time in her life she felt… beautiful.

“Is there anything else you require, my lady?”

Emmaline started. “No, no thank you, Grace. That will be all.”

Grace dipped a curtsy and slipped quietly from the room.

Emmaline continued to stare at the reflection of the silk clad woman in the mirror, hardly daring to believe it was her own visage. She cocked her head, touching a finger to her lips. Would he find her beautiful? A sharp rap on the door interrupted her musings. Emmaline jumped. She pressed a hand to her chest to try and still the rapid-fire beat of her heart.