Snowflakes and Scandals

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The pregnant Duchess of Pelham seemed to be everywhere: In the foyer greeting her guests; in the sitting room directing servants with trays of scones, biscuits, fruits and cheeses, along with three tea sets; and whispering some scandalously flirty nothings in the ears of any man she passed. She wielded her weapons well and Ember wondered what it was about some women and their ability to charm any man breathing.

Ember had never had such a gift, and she watched with some longing that the duchess made it all seem so effortless. She was nearly the female version of Dahlingford. He could dazzle in much the same way.

The manor house was decorated with greenery, mistletoe, yule logs, pine and a large tree in the main sitting room. Evidently, the duchess had been influenced by Queen Charlotte and was prepared for a celebratory twelve days. The tree was decorated with lights and sweets. Even the yew branches were laid out with small gifts beneath. They were for the children, she was sure, but how fun it would be to find a gift for herself!

As Ember predicted, within an hour of arriving, her sons had disappeared along with the other children present. There were brooks and ponds with ice around the edges and barking dogs and horses snorting hot breath into cold air—all to keep them entertained. The light snow gave up its effort and the overcast sky belied the festivities that had started indoors.

Being a mother had one unique quality she enjoyed: She was never alone. So, on days like this, amongst familiar strangers, a pang of angst built in her chest. She had one particular friend and that was Susan, with whom Ember shared nearly everything. Susan didn’t know about Ember’s acute loneliness, though.

“Oh, Lady Chester, there you are,” the duchess said. “Several of us are walking by the river, and your presence is required.”

Ember laughed. “Well, if it is required, then I must.”

“Anne is my given name, and I think that when one is willing to spend more than a week in another’s company, formality must be set aside for the sake of friendliness.”

“Of course. I prefer Ember, though my given name is Emberline.”

Servants arrived, carrying cloaks, hats and gloves. Anne hooked her arm with Ember, and they strolled through the front doors outside where the others had gathered.

Then she led Ember directly to Dahlingford, handing her over like a piece of candy.

His brow furrowed.

“You are required to escort Ember,” Anne said with finality.

When the duchess flitted away to matchmake elsewhere, Dahl turned to Ember. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Do we dare disobey her?” Ember asked. Dahlingford had changed to fresh clothing. His skin was pinkened from a recent shave and there was a touch of dampness to the black curls on the back of his head, beneath his hat. He’d found his greatcoat, which was still unbuttoned.

“I think the duke is the only one brave enough for such a challenge. Come. She is ordering everyone about as if we were truant children.”

Dahl led and Ember meekly followed, one hand upon his extended arm.

“Should I tell the duchess her efforts are in vain?” Ember glanced at him, wondering why he was so suddenly interested in maintaining tripping distance of her.

“Are they?” he asked.

“Can we not be honest with each other? You know I have no interest in a scandalous liaison. I would die a thousand deaths to be mentioned in The Tattler . You must know that about me, at the least.”

“It would not be my intention.”

“We’re not in the city this week. Please don’t pretend to be your rakish self for a few days. I can’t bear it,” she said.

“I am still the Trenton James you knew at sixteen. Well, except that I am an earl now.”

Dahl had maneuvered them to be the last in line. Six other couples strolled sedately along the limestone path. Water sloshed against the shoreline and the wind rustled through some dried rushes along the bank. The smell of a recent rain, or the melting of what snow had fallen, tickled her nose. A gloomy day in the country that stirred melancholia. Or was it the memories peeking through? A reminder of the sweet and halcyon days when they thought they were in love.

“Why, Dahl? Why after all these years? We were content to go our separate ways. It makes me remember things that I had firmly put in the past,” she said.

“Do you not think our lives would have been different? Better? Had it played out as it should have?”

“My life is not so bad. I’m sorry if you feel yours is lacking.”

“Has anyone ever called you a liar?”

“No one that I respect or trust,” she said.

“You had better take me back to the house. I think that shot drew blood,” he proclaimed.

“Our backstory doesn’t need to be relived.”

“Why can’t it be a new story?” he asked.

“Dahl, you can’t be serious. A few nights ago, you were propositioning me for a one-night affair.”

“So I was. Can you blame me?” He passed a lascivious glance over her bosom, then tilted his head. “I am still a man.”

He pulled them to a stop, near a rock bench that overlooked a small fall. Water tumbled over several layers of boulders and rocks and lent a sweet tinkling to the surround of leaves blowing in the tree and on the ground around them. Ember shivered.

It wouldn’t do. Trenton James must stay in her past.

She heaved a great sigh, then took a seat on the bench, pulling her cloak tight around her.

“I do not want to hurt you again,” she started. “But we are not meant to be. All the water that has passed through this fall is just like our two lives. The water runs over different rocks. Some goes through this channel, some floods a field, some goes stagnant in a lone pool.”

“Yet the water collects in one river and meets in the ocean. Eventually.”

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“What if I wanted more than a one-night affair?”

“The great and mighty Dahlingford? I can scarce believe it. Neither would anyone in the ton .”

“People change.”

“Do they really? Honestly? You were a flirtatious boy who’s become a licentious man.”

He’d shoved his hands in his coat pockets and stared at the moving water. “Maybe that flirtatious boy would have become an honorable man had the right woman agreed to marry him.”

She laughed. “You astound me.”

“Ember, you were the woman I was going to marry.”

“Did your break with Lady Lindley cause this soul searching?”

“Perhaps. I don’t know.”

“Trent, we were great friends once. And maybe once we could have been more, but I am not the woman for you. I don’t enjoy the same pleasures.”

“Then we should start by being great friends again.”

“What could you possibly see in me now? I am a mother. I am not the fresh young virgin titled men seek. You could have anyone, but you can’t have me, because I was made to be a man’s wife, not his secret lover.”

The silence was stifling. She believed the words she said. But the words she couldn’t say would have to remain hidden deeply in her heart.

“We ought to catch up with the others,” he offered.

“Yes, of course.”

They strolled without touching.

“I do mean it, Ember. I want us to be friends again. We’ve allowed too many years to pass.”

“Robert enjoys your friendship. If there is an opportunity, then yes. When I return for the next Season, we’ll see.”

“You’re not returning after the house party?”

“It’s only two weeks. And I long to return to York for the balance of the winter. It’s so much more fulfilling than the Season. The boys are just the right age to enjoy the country. To get to know their cousins. Take another lover, Trent, and you won’t waste another moment thinking about me.”

He smiled then. “You might think you have dissuaded me.”

She made the mistake of stopping and bumped against him. He gripped her arm lightly and stared at her. He leaned a little, touched his lips to hers before one of his hands curled around her back and urged her closer.

Resolve was easily vanquished. Dahl knew how to kiss, which was no surprise to her. His lips were firm but soft, and she heated to her toes.

Ember stepped back, breathing hard. When she pressed her lips together, they tingled, something she swore would never happen.

“Not a moment thinking about you is wasted,” he said.

Four days had passed, and Ember was enjoying herself too much. She saw the children at their breakfast table and then they were off like wild beasts. The adults gathered at a lavish buffet and conversations were a joy, especially with the duchess.

A light snow had dusted the countryside overnight. Ember sipped at a hot chocolate drink, alone at last and staring out the library window.

“Lady Chester, a note has arrived from London.” The servant held a silver tray, waiting as she lifted the missive.

“Oh. Thank you.” She accepted the note but did not recognize the handwriting or the return address. She set aside her cup and tore open the wax seal.

The script was beautiful, but the words were not: Court Ordered Judgment .

Her accusers: the vintner, a grocer, two of her modistes, the furniture maker, the chimney sweep. The chimney sweep? Lord, what would he take ? Ashes ?

Ember fell into a chair and covered her face. It could not be! She had money. She had a lot of money thanks to Gerald. What had Mr. Marshall been doing?

She brushed at the tears filling her eyes. They were taking her property in two days. Whatever they could get their hands on to pay her debts. Debts? My Lord !

The amount was astronomical to her. Four thousand pounds and some odd shillings.

Ember couldn’t breathe. She pressed her hand against her chest. Robert couldn’t find out. None of her acquaintances could find out. But what could she do except find out the veracity of the claims. It couldn’t be true, could it?

She stood again. She needed a logical excuse to leave within the hour. She’d need to leave the children here. Of course, Robert would be responsible for them, but what would she tell him? He would have questions. Questions she couldn’t exactly answer, though he had been suspicious of her finances for months.

She left the room, hoping she would see none of the holidaymakers before she could make her escape. A footman at the front door politely bowed, but she stopped and ordered, “Please have my carriage brought around. It’s urgent.”

Ember grabbed her skirts and hurried up the stairs. At the top, she nearly caromed off Dahlingford. He gripped her elbow, preventing her from falling.

“Ember, what is the matter?” What was it about Dahl? He’d always been there when there was trouble. Difficulties. Life’s hardships.

“An urgent matter. Let me by, Dahl.”

“Not so fast.” He leaned her against the hallway wall. “What can I do to help?”

“It’s not for you to help. I must leave right away and return to London.”

“Do you want me to fetch Robert? I saw him in the gardens not thirty minutes ago.”

“God, no!” Her knees weakened and she felt a slide against the wall.

“Ember, whatever is wrong?” He placed one hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. “You know I will help you.” He glanced toward her hand where the order was wadded in her fisted fingers. He opened the crumpled note and read quickly. “A judgment?” Dahl’s face was stoic, giving away little of his thoughts.

“I think Mr. Marshall has done this. I know it.”

“Marshall? Your husband’s man of affairs?”

She nodded. “I have to get back to London. Before they take everything.”

“Come with me,” he said. It was the most natural thing in the world to follow his directives. Inside her room, he closed the door. “Sit here. I’ll pack and I will take you back to London.”

“What will I tell Robert? He will be furious when he learns about the judgments.”

He knelt in front of her and clutched her hand. “If Mr. Marshall is to blame, he will pay for it. I will make sure he’s brought before the law.”

“Dahl, this isn’t your responsibility. I wish it were, but I am the one who should make things right. I trusted him because Gerald trusted him.”

“Ember, you can chew my ear all the way to London, but we must hurry.” Dahl stood to his feet. “Jot a note to Robert and to the duchess. Apologies only. No explanations. Up, my girl. Time is a’wasting.”

She steeled herself and did as Trent said. At least he wasn’t trying to seduce her.

She glanced toward Dahl as he stuffed her valise with her most important things.

“Write,” he said without looking in her direction. She did. He then hurried to his room to pack his belongings.

Once in the carriage, Ember fought another wave of panic and terror. What if her goods weren’t enough to satisfy the judgments? Would she have to go to debtor’s prison? What about her children?

Dahl was polite enough not to ask any more questions, but he did often glance in her direction. Resolute but seemingly without worry. “Tears are appropriate, Ember, especially if Marshall is the villain here.”

“If?”

“You know what I mean.”

Her vision blurred again. “I will share your bed if you help me avert this disaster.” She would! She would have to since she had nothing else to give.

“Do you think that is why I am doing this, hying off to London just so I can convince you I want a quick shag?”

“You’ve already convinced me of that. Isn’t this just an opportunity?”

“I can stop the carriage,” he said.

More tears burst forth. He had been her greatest love. Ever. And now she was about to stifle the last dying breath of that truth.

He leaned forward and took her hand. “Who was with you when your mother died? And who was with you for three weeks after Gerald passed? Maybe you don’t remember in your grief, but it was me, not your brother.”

“I remember,” she whispered.

“Was I trying to get your skirts up then? Or was I trying to demonstrate that I have loved you since you were sixteen? There is no one else for me, Ember. There never will be. I may tease and torment you with my desires, but that doesn’t make them any less true. I want you. I have always wanted you.”

She rubbed her fingers across her brow. “Oh, Dahl, why did this all have to happen to us?”

“Because I was young, foolish and proud and you were equally so. I am not blaming you. I am saying we were the masters of our own unhappiness.”

“Why are you saying this now?”

“It’s our last chance, Ember. You don’t feel it? That we are close to the final acts between us?”

“Dahl, I have to confess something. I am not a sexual creature. I don’t enjoy those things that you enjoy, not with your sort of proclivities and endurance. And if I said yes, it would be with no enthusiasm. And that would be the final act between us. Bitterness from me, because you didn’t give me a chance. And bitterness from you, because you would find out that I was not the only woman for you.”