Twenty-three

Emma prowled the house, giving herself a tour. With Darington resting and Kate and Wynbrook locked away in yet another heated discussion, she found herself at her leisure. She walked down a corridor past the library, to an area of the house that appeared unused. She hoped she was not snooping, but there was hardly anything to see, so she opened one door after another to peek inside. All she found were empty rooms.

One room had a few pieces of furniture covered with white sheets. She flung back the drapes to allow light into the corner room. Though the room was clean, it had a musty, unused smell.

She lifted the edge of one of the sheets and found a pianoforte. She pulled back the cover and sat at the instrument, running a finger along the smooth ivory keys.

“Haven’t opened this wing of the house.” The Earl of Darington walked slowly into the room.

“Oh! I do beg your pardon. I should not have trespassed.” Emma jumped from the piano bench.

“You may go anywhere you wish.” Dare leaned on the pianoforte.

“Are you in pain? Have you given yourself another dose of the medication?” asked Emma, concerned for the patient.

Dare slowly shook his head. “I want to keep my wits.” He said nothing more, and she knew the burden of conversation would fall on her.

“This is a pleasant room.”

Dare seemed pleased or perhaps relieved at her comment. “It was the music room.”

“Does anyone in your family play?”

“Kate did.” A heaviness descended on him once more. “After we were forced to leave she never played again.”

“I am sorry for that. What a terrible thing to happen,” said Emma with sincerity.

“No one should have their inheritance stolen and be forced from their home.” His dark eyes seared through her.

She turned away, not sure what to say. Waverley was being taken from her, but she did not wish to dwell on it. She hoped if she ignored the problem, it would somehow get better, or simply go away.

“Forgive me. I did not intend to make you uncomfortable. I have not the fortune of conversing easily with ladies.”

“Do you not? I have not noticed.” That was not entirely the truth, but Emma was not beyond saying kind things because she wished to be nice.

Dare gave her a look that said he did not believe her.

“I’m sure it cannot be quite as bad as you imagine,” she reassured. “You are too harsh on yourself.”

Dare raised an eyebrow. “I have no conversation. I do not dance. I lack social conventions.”

“Such as inviting a lady to be seated when you wish to speak with her?” teased Emma, who was still standing beside him as he had never invited her to sit.

“Oh! A thousand pardons. Please, do be seated.”

Emma only smiled at him. “Here, let us sit in the window seat over there. It seems a pleasant vantage.” She led the way and he followed. His face was grim and Emma repented her tease.

“In truth,” she said as she settled herself on the window box with Dare next to her, “lack of conversation in a gentleman is not as grievous as it is for ladies. And dancing, while preferable, is not everything. And can be learnt.”

“But there is the rub. I do not wish to learn. I tend to avoid females of all sorts,” he admitted, looking out of the window at the sweeping view of the ocean.

Emma followed his gaze to the dark-gray, white-tipped, churning seas. For a man who had spent most of his life at sea, that must be where he felt the most comfortable. “But you have many other qualities to recommend you. I am certain you have had many an admirer who had her heart broken for lack of your attention.”

“I doubt I have much to recommend me.”

“My dear sir, you are a well-heeled peer of the realm. Please forgive me for being so gauche, but that must make up for any reticence in social company.”

“They dubbed me the Pirate Earl,” he muttered.

“Oh! Those society papers, they are full of gossip, designed to ruin people’s lives. I apologize for ever reading such nonsense,” declared Emma. “Besides, some ladies prefer a man of action, a man they know can defend them, a man who is kind, maybe even shy with ladies, but ferocious to his enemies.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. Maybe she had spoken too candidly.

“I fear my slights are more substantial than you think,” he countered. “For I have pressed my case to two ladies of my acquaintance, three counting yourself, and all have turned down my suit.”

“Oh.” Now Emma was at a loss. The knowledge that he had asked two ladies before her to marry him did not sit well with her. Had his heart been captured by some young miss? Was that why he offered for her, because he no longer cared about a love match? “I am sorry if such refusals caused your heart pain.”

“My heart? Why would an offer of marriage affect that particular organ? No, I believe it only confirmed my suspicions that I have nothing to offer a member of the fairer sex.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it hurt nothing but your pride. But I wonder why— Oh, but you are trying to trap me into asking you impertinent questions and thus showing my lamentable country manners.” Emma smiled at him, only half joking at her unconventional upbringing, for she did feel quite out of her element in such illustrious company.

“Your manners are such that I like. I tell you the truth, I far prefer your company to any young lady I met in London.” He spoke with a simple earnestness that gave added meaning to the compliment.

“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling the weight of his praise.

“I did offer my hand to two ladies while in London. Kate was insistent that I find a wife or I would not have asserted myself. Both ladies were in circumstances in which I believed an offer of marriage would have been appreciated. They did, in truth, quickly enter into the marital state. Just not to me.”

“Their loss, I am sure.”

“They did not seem to agree with the sentiment.”

“So you offered your hand for marriages of convenience?”

“Yes, though it was apparently not so convenient that either would accept it. And now I have once again…” He paused and she was afraid he would bring up the fact that she had refused him too, but he changed course. “So you see it is a hopeless case.”

Emma smiled, for she assumed his words were in jest, but he remained somber, and she realized he was being entirely sincere with his assessment of his lack of social graces. “So you plan to die a bachelor?”

“It does seem likely.”

“Well, that is the saddest thing I have ever heard. I wish there was something I could do to provide assistance.”

“You could accept my offer.” He did not pull his punch this time.

It was Emma’s turn to look away. She gazed through the frosted pane at stormy seas, attempting to calm her flustered mind enough to form a cogent response. “I would not do you the injustice of accepting an offer made only out of obligation. You deserve more than that. You deserve to find someone you can truly cherish.”

“But you do not?”

She was indeed advocating a love match for Dare while accepting an arranged marriage with a stranger for herself. Her words and actions were not in concert and she felt an uncomfortable dissonance between the two.

“Perhaps I can be of service to you in some other way,” she continued quickly, not wanting to discuss the obvious contradiction. “I should not like to see you become discouraged and remain forever a bachelor.”

“I am resigned to my fate.” Dare wiped the condensation from the windowpane to see more clearly to the rolling seas below. Perhaps he was already planning his escape.

“I fear no challenge. Even a lump of coal can become a diamond under the right circumstances.”

“But a sow’s ear will never become a silk purse,” argued Dare.

“Ah, you have thrown down the gauntlet and I must accept the challenge! Now if I am to help you, you must explain the approach you took in making these previous offers, so we can discover the difficulty. If I can be so bold.”

Dare turned back to her, tilting his head slightly. “I wish you would be. For it is considerably easier when you take control of the conversation rather than rely on me to devise my own topics of discussion. If you could form your questions such that I could answer only in yes or no, that would be appreciated.”

Emma searched his expression, wondering if he was being earnest. She detected a slight softness in his eyes and a slight quirk to his lips. It was not quite a smile, but it revealed he was in jest. The man had made a joke!

She laughed out loud, placing her hand on the sleeve of his jacket in her mirth. His lips twitched, and he rested his hand on top of hers for a moment before they both jerked their hands away.

“Well then.” Emma cleared her throat. They had certainly entered into an interesting topic of conversation. It was not quite proper, but considering everything they had shared, the usual social boundaries on conversation seemed irrelevant.

“When you made your proposals, did you use flattery or make an argument for why the lady would be a suitable countess for you?”

Dare shrugged. “I’m sure either one would have performed the office adequately.”

“Did you express any particular affection for either one?”

“I could not express an emotion I did not feel.”

Emma was secretly reassured that Dare’s heart remained untouched. “I see. I do believe ladies do like to feel that their groom holds for them some sort of affection. Even a little bit.”

“I am not one to flatter and flirt.”

“I think that is a positive thing. I would rather one word of true praise than a thousand of false flattery.”

Dare’s eyes warmed as he looked at her. “Very wise.”

“Thank you.” Emma’s heart beat a bit faster at his compliment. “Did the ladies in question go on to marriages of convenience or love matches?”

“I would not be the best to judge such things, but I heard talk that there was true affection between the pairs.”

“Then there you have it. In order to find a marriage partner, you must learn to woo the lady of your interest.”

Dare paled and leaned away from her. “I could not begin to conduct such an endeavor.”

“All activities can be intimidating when first tried, but with practice…” Emma paused, for Dare had taken on a sickly hue. “Perhaps start small by giving banal compliments or small gifts.”

“Gifts?” asked Dare, and Emma suspected he was interested in anything that did not require conversation with the female in question.

“Yes, like flowers. Of course, one must be careful, for a single man cannot give an unmarried lady a gift, but one can bring a bouquet to the mother of the girl of your fancy. She will understand the token is for her.”

“Flowers,” said Dare carefully. “Sounds tedious.”

Emma smiled again, humor bubbling up at his morose assessment of wooing. “Perhaps it is. I suppose it is only worth it if the lady is worth the effort. I suppose that is the whole point. The object should not be the goal, but the fact that it cost the gentleman time and effort, which indicates affection.”

“Affection. Is that also a requirement?” Dare stared at her with his dark eyes, full of an emotion that was hard to name. Longing perhaps. Sorrow. This time, he was not in jest.

“I should hope that all marriages should have at least a little love between them. It can be a difficult world and it helps to have a friend by your side.”

“And you?” His eyes burned into hers and she once again realized her words were contrary to her intention to marry a stranger.

Emma took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, you are right. I suppose my decision to wed a man unknown to me was primarily based on my desire to escape my situation at home. But I hope that when we meet, a connection can be found. Perhaps, even in this strange beginning, a love match can be formed.”

Dare scowled at this. “And if he is not the man you deserve?”

“Then I return home. I have ensured I have enough funds.” Eustace did not know, but Emma had been saving the little pin money he gave her for years. “Do not fret over me. I am actually excited to take this chance. I do wish to travel the world.”

Dare pressed his lips together, unconvinced.

“No, truly. Men have advantages you cannot comprehend. You get to travel, see new places, go where you want to go, do as you wish. I would like to take to the seas, learn to navigate a ship and take sail.” She paused at the incredulous rise of his eyebrows. “I’m sure that seems rather silly to you.”

“Not at all. Those are all things I like too.”

Emma opened her mouth to say they were quite a match, but thought better of it. She coughed to hide the awkward pause.

“Oh, Lord Darington, there you are. Please forgive the interruption.” The housekeeper entered the room. “We have supper ready and are waiting on your pleasure to come to table. Lord Wynbrook and Lady Kate show no signs of exiting the drawing room.”

“Actually, Mrs. Brooke, I prefer to take my meal in my room,” said Darington, rising stiffly from the window seat.

“I shall as well,” murmured Emma, not wanting to be the only person at the table. She had thought they had established a rapport, but now he apparently did not wish to extend his time with her.

He gave her a nod. “I hope to see you later tonight,” he said after the housekeeper had gone.

He did not wish to eat with her but wanted to see her later? What was this man about?