Chapter Five
When Emma glided through the parlor door the next day, Adelaide couldn’t help but smile widely. The two women embraced and then took their places for tea, and for a moment it felt like nothing had changed between them.
Except that Emma’s pregnant belly and Adelaide’s wandering mind made it clear that a great deal had. Soon it seemed there was no avoiding that fact, for after a while Emma set her cup down and speared her with an appraising look.
“We’ve talked enough about me and my new life,” she said. “I want to talk about you.”
Adelaide shifted. “What is there to talk about? While you went off and fell in love, I have been here in London, doing as I always do. I’m quite predictable, you know.”
Emma arched a delicate brow. “Are you? I don’t think you are. As long as I’ve known you, I have always suspected your still waters ran very deep, indeed.”
Adelaide held back a laugh. If only Emma knew the truth, she would be shocked. How many times had Adelaide thought to tell her about how she had turned to the theatre, about what had driven her there…even now she wanted to talk to her about Northfield, get her insider information about the man.
She did none of those things. “You are too adorable, my friend,” Adelaide insisted, though she kept her gaze away from Emma’s. “To think I might have secrets that I could keep from you.”
“I saw you dancing with Graham last night,” Emma said softly.
Graham. Adelaide stopped short at the use of his Christian name. It was safer to think of him as Northfield. Northfield was a title, a dukedom, it meant distance. Almost like he wasn’t…real. Graham was a person. A man. A man with full lips that tasted of sherry, with strong arms and with a brokenness that she couldn’t help but want to fix, even though it wasn’t her place in either of her double lives.
“Adelaide?”
Adelaide blinked, shrugging off her thoughts as best she could. “The room at large saw me dancing with Northfield,” she said. “What could I do when he asked? Refusing would have been so rude.”
Emma hesitated. “Do you know him?”
“No,” Adelaide said swiftly. “Not really at all. I mean, I’ve seen him. We always saw those men in that club that your husband lords over.”
Emma’s smile softened. “The 1797 Club,” she clarified. “A brotherhood of dukes with very bad fathers.”
Adelaide frowned. “Not much of a brotherhood considering what Crestwood did to Northfield.”
Emma stiffened, and Adelaide immediately wished she could snatch the words back. They felt too emotional, and they were her rushing to the defense of a man she had just claimed she knew nothing about.
She focused on refreshing their cups of tea. “Or so gossips say,” she added.
Emma shook her head. “It is so much more complicated than gossip says, I assure you. It’s an unfortunate situation, of course, and Graham is very much entitled to his feelings.”
“I should say so,” Adelaide grumbled, her mind turning once again to the desperation on his face when he’d asked her to dance the night before.
Emma arched a brow and continued, “But Meg and Simon are very sorry for the circumstances. They almost lost their chance at happiness in some bid to make up for what they did.”
Adelaide wrinkled her brow. Seeing them so happy the night before, it was hard to picture Northfield’s suffering keeping them up at night. But Emma seemed adamant and she had never been one to lie. It wasn’t in her nature.
“I’m sure I don’t know anything about it,” Adelaide said with a wave of her hand. “And I doubt I shall spent any time with Northfield again, so it is really none of my business.”
“Is that why you don’t like Meg?” Emma pressed.
Adelaide had taken a sip of tea and she nearly spit it out across the room. She wiped her mouth as she tried to regain some composure.
“Not like the Duchess of Crestwood?” she repeated. “Why in the world would you think that?”
Emma leaned in. “Because I know you, best friend of mine. I can see when you are false and when you are true. You were odd last night with her.” She shook her head. “Come to think of it, you’ve been odd a great deal lately. Even before I married. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Once again Adelaide considered confessing all she had to hide to her friend, but decided against it. It was too high a risk. “Of course not.” She sought a change of subject and found it. Though it was not a topic that pleased her as she said, “I’m sorry my aunt was so wretched to you last night.”
Emma shrugged. “I could care a fig about what your aunt Opal says to me.”
“Your Abernathe looked as though he wished to call her out,” Adelaide said with a shake of her head. “Pistols at dawn with my spinster aunt.”
“He’s protective,” Emma said with a smile. “But I don’t need it. You do. Was she very hard on you after?”
Adelaide shrugged. “Just harsh. You know her and her erratic behavior.”
Emma frowned. “You could come and stay with James and me,” she suggested.
“She’d never allow it,” Adelaide said immediately. “At any rate, I’m…fine. I’m fine.”
Emma didn’t look convinced. “Well, what about just joining us for supper? Do you think Opal would allow for that?”
Adelaide considered it. She would not return to the theatre for another performance until the next night. “I think I could convince her,” she said. “If my maid was with me as chaperone.”
Emma’s face lit up. “Wonderful. I so want you to see our home and the nursery and get to know James better.”
Adelaide couldn’t help but beam at Emma’s enthusiasm. “Well, my dear, I look forward to all that, too. It will be nice to have a night away where I can just be myself and not worry about anything but how much dessert to eat.”
“Your Grace?”
Graham looked up from his ledger to find his butler, Rogers, standing at the door to his study. The man had been with his father and continued on after the previous Northfield’s death nearly eight years before. Because of their long acquaintance, Graham knew the servant could read his troubles, probably better than most.
Graham could do the same. From the way the older man kept shifting his weight, he could see whatever Rogers was about to say was not pleasant.
“What is it?” Graham asked, carefully setting his quill down and focusing his attention as best he could. A difficult feat considering his head had been spinning for days now.
“You have a visitor,” Rogers said softly. “The Duke of Abernathe.”
Graham froze. Although his quarrel was with Simon, his relationship with James had been strained for months. Not strained—destroyed. Before the ball the previous night, he hadn’t seen the man he’d considered his brother since he walked out of his home in the country months before.
“I see,” he said, rising. “I assume he will not be turned back?”
A hint of a smile crossed over Rogers face. “You know the duke, sir. He’s always been quite singular.”
“Stubborn as an ass,” Graham corrected. “Yes, I know. Well, show him in.”
Rogers seemed pleased at Graham’s response and stepped out to fetch his guest. That gave Graham a moment’s reprieve before he faced what was about to come. He smoothed his waistcoat and shook out his suddenly tingling hands.
And then James walked into the room slowly. He paused at the doorway, and Graham stared at him. His friend looked lighter than he ever had, happier thanks to his recent marriage. The concern in his eyes was only for his friend, not for his own troubles.
Graham couldn’t help but be happy for that fact. He knew his friend deserved the happiness he’d found.
“Graham,” James said at last. “I admit I feared you would not see me.”
Graham cleared his throat. “Is that why you haven’t called before?”
James shifted. “After our last encounter, I thought it best to give you your space. I knew you were well, or at least as well as could be expected because of—”
“Your spies,” Graham grunted. When James seemed surprised, he laughed softly. “Oh yes, I know Ewan and Matthew and even Kit report back to you when they see me. You’re our fearless leader, after all. King of the Dukes.”
James sighed. “Some king. I allowed my kingdom to be destroyed.”
Graham shook his head. “That wasn’t you, mate. At any rate, I’m…” He hesitated, then met James’s eyes. “I’m happy to see you,” he admitted.
James’s expression softened and he crossed the room, hand outstretched. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Graham stared at the hand, then grabbed it and tugged James in for a brief hug. He pounded James’s back and backed away, both men shifting from the discomfort of the emotional display.
“Drink?” Graham asked, turning away to regain some control over his emotions.
“Yes.” James’s voice was thick.
Graham poured them each a scotch and motioned to the chairs by the fire. They sat together, nursing the drinks for a moment before James set his aside and leaned forward, draping his forearms over his knees.
“Does your accepting me here mean you have decided to forgive your friends?”
Graham closed his eyes. James meant Simon. James meant going back to normal. He’d been thinking of it more and more lately, but seeing Simon the night before made him realize just how much he still stung.
He sighed. “I know it isn’t your fault. That this quarrel is between Simon and me, but—”
“Just come to supper,” James interrupted.
Graham opened his eyes and stared. His friend looked a little desperate as he made the suggestion. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.
James shook his head. “It will only be Emma and me,” he reassured him. “Please, it’s just a start. I only want a start, Graham.”
Graham pushed to his feet and paced across the room as he considered the request. He did miss James. He missed all his friends and the camaraderie and family they had represented to him all the years they’d had their club. They were the only family who had ever mattered.
“Very well,” he said at last.
James leapt to his feet, and his grin was almost impossible not to return. “Most excellent,” he said. “I’m so happy, and I know Emma will be delighted, as well.”
Graham tilted his head. “You’re content,” he said, a statement, not a question.
“I am more than content. I’m blissful. I never thought I could be so happy, nor deserve to be loved as deeply as she loves me. But I can. I do.” He stressed the last word heavily. “So do you.”
Graham couldn’t help but flash to an image of pale blonde hair and soft lips, superimposed over another of dark-rimmed spectacles and sharp wit. He shook the cacophony away and said, “Well, not all of us can be so lucky.”
James paused a moment before he said, “You danced with Adelaide last night.”
Graham rolled his eyes. “To avoid the whispers of the crowd when Simon and Meg came in. I assure you there was…there was nothing between us.”
James pursed his lips. “Well, she is a wallflower. I know from personal experience that wallflowers make the best wives.”
Graham waved him off. “For you, perhaps. But right now I assure you that finding a wife is last on a long list of things I want to do.”
James shrugged one shoulder. “If you say so. For now I will simply be pleased that one of those things is coming to supper.”
“Yes, for now supper will have to be enough,” Graham agreed, then elbowed his friend. “Game of billiards?”
James’s face lit up. “Absolutely. Since you ran off to London, I haven’t had a decent match.”
They moved toward the hall together and Graham grinned. “You mean you haven’t taught Emma to play yet?” he teased.
James barked out a laugh. “Every time I try, I get…distracted by her,” he admitted.
Graham shook his head, even as a warm sense of belonging filled him, one he hadn’t allowed for months. Opening this door, even a tiny sliver, felt right to him. And he looked forward to a quiet evening with his friends before he went back to the tangled confusion of his life.