He had to be careful to keep her safe from fortune hunters.
Myles threw his gloves at Thomas, and they landed right on his face. “Why are you smiling like some lovesick young buck? My life is over, and you are grinning like the king’s fool.”
Sitting up straight, Thomas looked and sounded contrite. “How inconsiderate of me. Please accept my apologies.”
“Yes, well.” Myles picked up the nearly full brandy bottle. “I’ll just take this with me as a peace offering.” He left the duke alone in his cabin.
The audacity of Myles taking Thomas’s brandy. It was a good thing he had more, because if he were going to survive this voyage with Emma, Thomas needed to dull his brain and his cock. Both engaged every time he thought of her.
Get a grip on your emotions, man. You are her guardian. There must be a law against lusting after her.
The sooner he escorted her off this ship and turned her over to his mother and sisters, the better for all involved.
***
The first week aboard ship had Emma keeping to herself in her cabin except when Myles or Wentworth escorted her up on deck. And when they did, the bright sun and fresh air warmed her cheeks and caused her pulse to soar. She’d been on her papa’s whaling vessels in port, but never had she sailed on the open ocean. Now Emma understood a sailor’s love of the sea.
It exhilarated her, and she never tired of the vast expanse of open water. Fortunately the weather cooperated, and the seas were fairly calm. Deep down inside she wondered what it would be like to sail in a storm. Part of her wanted to find out. Another part of her was terrified at the thought.
Most nights they dined at the Captain’s table with several other passengers who were prominent individuals, or so she was told by Wentworth.
After a month of the same, the novelty Emma had initially felt at being out to sea subsided. Every day she woke up praying it would be the day she saw land again.
***
Emma’s eyes strained in their sockets as their ship traveled up the Thames. For the first time she glimpsed the Tower of London, poking through the foggy mist. The splendidly eerie scene brought forth visions of Anne Boleyn’s imprisonment by King Henry VIII and, later, her beheading in the courtyard. There was nothing so grand or frightening in America.
How could the duke stand beside her and not even blink an eye at the glorious sights? Did nothing move him?
During the crossing of the Atlantic he had sought the solitude of his cabin most days. Emma’s heart pained to think of the burden she must be to him that he could not stand the sight of her. Could her papa have made a mistake in naming him her guardian?
Please, God, don’t let it be true.
Emma wanted to be wanted.
Needed to be wanted rather than just an imposition or a responsibility.
The duke and his family were all she had in the world now. She needed them. Please let the others be warm and understanding, welcoming her more than the duke had. Emma did not know what she would do if they resented her presence, resented her being thrust into their lives without warning.
Her fears were for naught. The moment His Grace helped her down from the carriage and escorted her inside his three-story mansion, she found herself surrounded by his enthusiastic family.
Wentworth pulled her forward and made the introductions. “Miss Emma Hamilton, this is my mother, the Dowager Duchess of Wentworth.”
Emma’s body quivered with suppressed nervous excitement. Though she’d practiced on the crossing she found it difficult to turn a graceful curtsy. “Your Grace, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
The Dowager took her hand and patted it with both of hers, giving Emma a welcome smile that somewhat eased her jumbled nerves. “We are pleased to welcome you into our family.” Her eyes fell on her son, then back to Emma. “I can see the duke is already taken with you.”
Emma’s cheeks scorched at the look that passed between mother and son. The duke certainly didn’t look taken with her. If anything, he looked like he wanted to throttle someone and throw the victim out in the street. “That is very kind of you to say.” She lowered her head. “Your Grace.”
“Let me introduce you to my other son,” the dowager duchess began. “Miss Emma Hamilton, may I present Lord Sebastian.”
“Lord Sebastian, it is an honor to make your acquaintance,” Emma said as she curtsied. Nervous jitters danced around inside her stomach once again.
Lord Sebastian bowed, raised her right hand to his lips, and grinned at her. Her breath caught in her lungs when she really looked at him. The resemblance to the duke was astounding, if she ignored the hair color. They could almost be twins, except when she compared their eyes. They had the exact same color; Lord Sebastian’s held laughter and mischief. The duke’s were… jaded was the only word that came to her mind. His life experiences must have been far different from his brother’s. She presumed responsibilities must weigh heavily on the duke.