Until a fine carriage rolled to a stop beside her, an open barouche painted in glossy black with a gold-and-green crest on the door. The coachman drew in the matched black horses, and a man leaned out to sweep off his hat to her. The sunlight caught on his bright hair, and she saw to her shock it was the Duke of Manning himself, conjured up by her daydreams.
“Good day, Lady Emily,” he said. “Out for a bit of shopping?”
“Er … yes, your Grace,” she answered, then realised neither she nor Mary carried any packages. “Though I did not find what I was looking for, I fear. We were just on our way home.”
“Is that so? Then may I offer you a ride back to your house? It seems quite a long walk from here,” he said.
A ride in his carriage? Sitting close together? Emily was not at all sure that was a good idea. It was obvious from Vauxhall that sometimes she had trouble controlling her hidden wanton tendencies. Not that she would jump on him in an open carriage for everyone to see, but.
Well, one just never knew what might happen. The more time he spent with her the more likely he was to discover she was the woman in the black wig. And she would never want him to know that. She was determined to keep her secret, and how could she do that if she was always with him?
She glanced back down the street, but there was no help forthcoming there. And Mary looked at her pleadingly, as if she longed to cease walking.
Emily sighed. There was simply no escape. She would just have to be as careful and circumspect as possible. The ride would not last for ever.
“Thank you, your Grace,” she said. “That is very kind of you.”
Nicholas immediately swung open the carriage door and leaped down, not even waiting for a footman, and held out his hand to help her up, his hand strong on hers. Mary was ensconced next to the driver on the box as Emily settled herself carefully on the velvet cushions. It was a remarkably fine vehicle, much lovelier and more comfortable than her parents’ ancient, lumbering berlin. As they moved smoothly down the street there were no bumps or jolts at all, and as she ran her gloved fingertips over the plush upholstery, she could almost see why her family wanted her to marry a duke. He probably had dozens of vehicles like this one.
Not that fine carriages were any excuse for something as serious as marriage. Emily peeked at Nicholas from beneath the brim of her bonnet to find him watching her closely, his eyes an even brighter blue in the daylight. A handsome face was no excuse, either, even though his was so extraordinarily handsome.
And he kissed so very, very well.
Emily curled her fists hard against that fine velvet, trying to think sensibly again. “It is very kind of you, your Grace,” she said carefully.
“I was going in that direction, Lady Emily, and it would have been very rude to let a lady walk such a distance,” he said. Strangely, he sounded equally careful. “It was the least I could do after the great kindness your mother showed me today.”
Alarm bells rang in Emily’s mind. The duke had met with her mother? “Kindness?”
“Yes. She invited me to your dinner party.”
“Dinner party?” Emily said dumbly, feeling rather like Jane’s mother’s trained parrot. They were having a party? Had she simply been too distracted to notice any preparations or invitations going out? Or was this some new scheme of her family’s?
Nicholas frowned. “You are not aware of the event, Lady Emily?”
Emily curled her hands even tighter to resist the urge to bite her thumbnail—or tear her hair out. If this was some sort of scheme, he could never find out! “Oh, my mother and my sister-in-law are in charge of our family’s social engagements. They seldom require my assistance, which is good since I am so forgetful. Of course you are more than welcome at our dinner party, your Grace. But surely you are very busy. I hope you would feel no obligation to accept if you have a previous engagement.”
“Not at all. I am very happy to accept. A small dinner with friends will be most welcome after so many large balls.”
And so many amorous encounters at Vauxhall? To cover her blush, Emily turned to look out at the passing street. That was almost worse, though, as everyone they passed stopped in their tracks to watch the carriage with the ducal crest go by. They would all see it was Lady Emily Carroll riding with the Duke of Manning, which would give her mother even more fuel for her matchmaking fire.
“Are you sorry the Season will end soon, your Grace? “ she said. “No more parties or gatherings.”
“I’m looking forward to going to the country. There’s much work to be done at my estate. And if I do find a sudden craving for town, I can always return. There always seems to be a few interesting people around, no matter what time of year.”
“That is true. And if you were here, there would suddenly be many more.”
Nicholas laughed. “All the more reason to stay in the country, I think. Do you prefer town, Lady Emily?”
“Not at all. I like the quiet of the country, being able to walk and read and do whatever I like.” Though she feared this particular country sojourn at Moreby Park would be longer than most, after her parents’ disappointment over her failed Season. She might not be able to leave again.
And this might be one of the last times she saw the duke, too. The cold wave of disappointment at that thought was most disconcerting.
“You’re able to walk there without bossy dukes insisting on driving you home?” he said with a teasing smile.
Emily had to smile, too. She never could be solemn around him for very long. It simply felt too good when she was with him. “It is a very different, and much more pleasant, thing to walk in the country.”
“So it is.”
“And will your family join you at your estate?”
“Not this year. My sister Charlotte and her husband are at his estate at Derrington, waiting for their baby to arrive, and my other sisters are travelling with their husbands. My brother Lord Stephen will be returning to his own estate soon. It will be terribly quiet for me, I fear.”
Emily could hardly imagine him without his noisy, energetic family. They seemed such a part of him—and yet another reason a match between him and her would be a bad idea.
The carriage drew to a smooth halt at the doorstep of her home. She thought she glimpsed her mother’s face at one of the upstairs windows, but then there was only a swaying curtain.
Nicholas stepped down and held out his hand to help her alight. She stared at it for a second, unsure if she should take it. She had proved over and over she was not in her right mind when he touched her.
A bitter little smile touched the corner of his mouth. “It won’t turn into a snake and bite you, Lady Emily, I promise.”
Feeling even more foolish, she took his hand and let him lead her to the pavement. Even through their gloves she could feel the hard strength, the heat of his touch, and she remembered what his bare hand felt like on her skin.
He held on to her for a moment after she stepped to the pavement. “You see,” he whispered in her ear. “Quite safe.”
That she did not agree with at all. She swallowed hard past the sudden dry lump in her throat. “Thank you for the ride in your carriage, your Grace,” she said quickly, before she lost her breath. “I look forward to seeing you at our—our dinner party.” Whenever that impromptu event might be.
“I look forward to it as well.”
She peered up at him, trying to detect any signs of sarcasm that might be lurking there. Any hint that he might know it was she at Vauxhall and was merely toying with her.