They were in Emm’s bedchamber. Emm had finished feeding baby Bertie, and now held him against her shoulder, rubbing his back. “Do I take it that you no longer detest the duke?”
“I want to strangle him.”
Emm laughed. “That’s not quite the same thing. I occasionally want to strangle Cal, but I love him dearly all the same.”
George pondered the question. She’d definitely softened toward the duke. A bit. His kisses drove her wild, but that wasn’t it. She mightn’t be in season like a mare or a cat—though she was still sure thatsomethingwas going on—but liking, respect or love had nothing to do with physical desire—she knew that much. Men were like stallions, only on two legs. They’d jump a fence for a filly they fancied.
She’d been angry that he’d come chasing down to Bath after her but... though jealousy was unattractive, it at least showed he cared, even if he didn’t trust her. And with a mother like his...
Actually, that was when she’d started to soften toward him first, when he realized how his mother had deceived and manipulated her. He could have left it, not exposed the lie—it would have made it easier for him—but he hadn’t. He realized she’d given her promise based on a false premise and he’d taken her to see for herself what his mother had done.
And then he’d offered to release her. Despite all his efforts to entrap her. He’d played fair, shown her a side of him she hadn’t suspected—an honorable streak.
And then, when she’d told him he was just like his mother, just as ruthlessly manipulative—well, he had every right to be furious with her. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d denied it, and refused to give her opinion any credence at all.
But he hadn’t. He’d listened, he’d thought about it. And he’d taken it on the chin—and later he’d apologized.
That was probably the moment she’d looked at him, really looked at him, past the haughty manner and the cold arrogance, and glimpsed the possibility of another man.
The baby belched loudly, startling George. She didn’tthink such a tiny thing could make such a sound. “What a clever boy you are,” Emm murmured as she placed him on his back on the bed beside her. He lay quietly among the pillows, staring intently at the world around him with bright, dark blue eyes. He waved a little hand and George slipped a finger in it, smiling as he gripped her firmly.
“Just because a convenient marriage is arranged,” Emm said, “it doesn’t mean that’s how it will continue.”
George said nothing. She played with the baby’s hand. She’d seen plenty of marriages where the husband and wife might as well be strangers, for all the concern they showed for each other.
Emm continued, “When I married your uncle, there was no talk of love—it was a purely practical arrangement. He wanted someone to take care of—and control—you three girls, and I, I wanted security, a home and the chance of having a child of my own.”
George looked up. “But you’re in love with Cal, aren’t you? And he with you?”
Emm smiled. “Oh, yes, but that came afterward. And that’s what I want you to think about. Try to keep your mind open about the duke. I know you think he’s arrogant and cold and—”
“He is.” But George knew now that wasn’t all he was.
“Yes, but think back to how Cal was when you first met him. Was he not arrogant, bossy, infuriating?”
“He most certainly was.”
“So what changed? Did Cal change? Or did you?”
George thought about it. Cal was still pretty arrogant, and very bossy at times—only not with Emm. He’d been downright hostile toward Rose’s long-lost husband... until he decided that Thomas was all right. That Thomas could be trusted.
He was being protective of Rose, and she couldn’t really fault him for that.
As for how he treated George, they’d started off badly when he more or less kidnapped her, but now she thought about it, he’d softened quite a bit toward her, and in fact hadchampioned her on a number of occasions, particularly with Aunt Agatha.
“You’ve begun to let the duke get to know you—that’s a good start. And if he’s reluctant to open up himself, persist, but gently,” Emm said. “Some men find it very difficult to reveal the softer side of themselves, to let themselves be vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable?” George couldn’t imagine the duke being the slightest bit vulnerable to anyone or anything. He only wanted her to feel vulnerable.
“Vulnerable to love. Cal was as tightly bound up against letting himself love as any man could be. He didn’t have an easy time as a young boy, losing his mother and being rejected by his father’s second wife. And then there were his years in the army, where a man has to arm himself against the softer emotions simply to survive. He was out of the habit of even thinking about love. It simply never occurred to him. And if you recall, it took the rather drastic action of someone shooting me to shock Cal into the realization that he loved me.” She smiled. “I, of course, knew a long time before that that I loved him. But even so, it was a nerve-racking realization.”
“Nerve-racking? For you?”
“Oh, yes. After years as a spinster, never expecting to love or be loved, to marry or to have a child, I had to open myself to the frightening possibility of love. And with that came the equally terrifying possibility of rejection. And of making a fool of myself, and earning my husband’s scorn—he’d made an intensely practical marriage, recall, not a love match.”
George was silent. She hadn’t really thought of it like that. It had seemed inevitable to her that Emm and Cal should be in love; but now, looking back, and in the light of Emm’s explanation, she could see that it wasn’t so simple.
And that she had more in common with Emm than she realized.
