When they docked in London, Thomas was optimistic he’d receive notice from the Prince Regent regarding Sebastian’s commission to His Majesty’s Army. It was past time his brother set out on his own to make his place in the world. Thomas did not envy his brother’s position as second son. In a recent letter, Sebastian said he did not envy Thomas with all his responsibilities as a duke and was looking forward to his brother’s return.
“Wentworth?” Myles’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. “I must thank you for leaving word with Mr. Walsh about your travel plans. I might have booked passage on another ship and missed this delightful reunion .” He was all soft, seductive smiles toward Emma.
The look did nothing for Thomas’s bad temper, boiling within him. “Yes, well, I figured you would wander back this way eventually, and I could hardly leave without you. After all, you traveled here because of me. I felt responsible.” As the words flowed Thomas was thinking the opposite. He wished his friend had traveled home behind them––by months.
Myles patted him on the back. He made the gesture just to needle Thomas, no doubt.
“Yes, well. No need to feel any responsibility toward me, because as you know, I’m capable of taking care of myself. Just like in the old days at Eton.” Myles’s lips curved up into another smile as he turned to Emma. “On the other hand, you, my dear, need to be taken care of. And I hope you will allow me the pleasure of seeing to your every comfort and whim while aboard ship. Especially as you have no lady’s maid to see to your comfort.”
That offer was inappropriate. Thomas suddenly felt nauseated by his friend’s flirting. He felt like calling him out.
“This ship does have servants,” he said calmly, gritting his teeth instead, “and she will be attended to. No need for you to worry over her comfort, Lord Norwich.”
Would it be too much to ask God for a strong tail wind so the crossing happened more quickly? If he had to listen to Myles flirt with Emma during all the weeks ahead, he might have to fling himself overboard to end his own suffering. Or better yet, fling Myles overboard and put everyone out of their misery.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once settled in her small, nicely appointed cabin, Emma pondered why the duke and Lord Norwich traveled with only one valet between them. Surely it could not be the norm for nobility? She heard how the English ton was pompous and lazy and expected servants to do everything for them––even dry off a lord or lady after bathing. Before she had entered Miss Beauregard’s she had a nurse who took care of her. Once she enrolled in finishing school, though, she took care of herself. Or had a classmate fasten the buttons on the back of her dresses. Most day frocks were now designed with the buttons in front.
Dreamily, she wondered if she would have a lady’s maid once she was settled in the duke’s residence.
Would she have pretty gowns to wear when she attended Almack’s? She had heard much about that place only attended by debutantes of the best breeding.
Would the duke parade her around in an open landau in Hyde Park so all the eligible men could get a glimpse of her? Would he take her to Vauxhall Gardens, the opera, the theater?
Would His Grace escort her to a ball? Emma’s heart raced at the idea of attending one. And to be on the arm of a handsome duke would be…
“Ahhh,” she sighed. Of course, he would only escort her. Once there, he would excuse himself and leave her to dance the night away with strangers. Or perhaps Lord Norwich would be kind enough to dance a waltz or two with her. Emma had never waltzed with a gentleman before except for the waltzing master, Mr. Danbury. And the thrill of dancing such a scandalous dance with the duke had her body warming with excitement. If only he . . .
During the long evenings in her cabin she wrote in her journal. Years from now she wanted to remember everything about this trip. Everything from what she ate daily to what she did to pass the time. Like now, only her eyes refused to stay open, and the rocking ship lulled her into a deep sleep.
***
Thomas settled into his cabin nicely, thanks to Giles. He was relaxing on the bunk when Myles knocked and poked his head inside the door.
“Are you busy, Thomas?” he asked, his tone solemn.
What brought on the sudden seriousness in his friend? Myles only used his Christian name when he either needed a boon or was bothered by something serious. Thomas took a closer look and found his friend’s brows drawn and his mouth turned down into a frown. It appeared something weighed heavily on his mind.
“No, come in and have a drink. I stashed several bottles of brandy in my trunk.” Thomas rose from the bed and gestured to one of two available wooden chairs in the small cabin. “Have a seat.” He handed Myles a glass and sat down on the other available seat.