“Miss Hamilton, it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance and welcome you to Wentworth House.” Lord Sebastian stole a look at Wentworth, who glared at his younger brother. “My brother did not do you justice when he described you in his correspondence. You are a vision of beauty beyond mere words. And please call me . . . Sebastian.”
She tugged her hand from his heated grasp. “Sebastian. If we are going to be informal, you may call me Emma.”
Once more the brothers locked eyes. The duke’s look was positively murderous. Emma’s body trembled. Had she done something to cause such a look? She had studied everything she could about London Society and propriety over the past year, and she did not believe she had made a faux pas.
Sebastian’s eyes returned to her. “It would be my pleasure to call you Emma.”
Their mother nudged Sebastian aside and eyed both her sons as only a mother can. “Please meet my daughters, Lady Isabella and Lady Amelia.”
The sisters and Emma curtsied––all three at the same time. Then Emma found each of her arms linked to a sister, and she was led toward the grand staircase. “Call me Bella as we will be sisters now,” said the older of the two, “and call my sister Amelia. Come along with us. Let’s get you settled in your room. I, for one, want to hear everything about Yankee men and the Native Americans.”
The room they ushered her into made her smile. It was not quite as large as her bedroom at home in New Bedford. The furnishings were small, feminine, and exactly to her taste, perfectly decorated for her. And it was not pink––that was refreshing. The walls were covered in a light blue and cream striped silk. A thick cream rug hugged the wood floors. A blue brocade chair sat in front of the fireplace. There was a mahogany wardrobe against one wall near a small writing desk that could double as a dressing table.
The four-poster bed was draped with beautiful blue silk coverings and numerous pillows. Hanging above the bed was a portrait of her parents. “Oh, my.” Her hand covered her pounding heart and tears stung her eyes at the duke’s thoughtfulness. She was convinced it was his doing. Who else could have brought it here from where it had hung in her papa’s bedchamber? Emma would have to remember to have a private word with him that evening to thank him.
Emma glanced at the bed again and suddenly realized how weary she was. And the thought of sleeping in a real bed, in a home, instead of a rocking ship, had her sighing with longing. Even though she had been on land for several hours, she still experienced the rocking of the ship. But she could not be rude to her new sisters who were making themselves comfortable on her bed, their eyes wide and waiting.
Bella and Amelia were the exact opposites. Amelia had deep brown hair and dark, exotic eyes. With her creamy pale skin, Emma could picture men dropping to their knees begging for her favors.
Bella had beautiful silky blond hair and blue eyes. When she looked at Bella’s eyes it was unsettling as they mirrored those of Bella’s brothers. It was the duke she pictured and thought about most as she compared the family.
“What would you like to know?” Emma asked as she sat down at the foot of the bed. She prayed her racing heart would settle down soon.
Just as Bella was about to speak, their mother swept into the room, with two muscular servants managing Emma’s trunk. A lady’s maid followed on their heels. The dowager duchess clapped her hands to get their attention. “Girls, Emma needs her privacy. She must be positively exhausted from her travels. She needs rest. You can spend time with her later this evening. Now, go.”
They said their good-byes and promised to come back later that night for ‘girl talk.’
“Emma, this is your lady’s maid, Rosie. She is competent and has been in our employ for…” The dowager threw up her hands. “Well, forever. Her mother is my maid, and I assure you, she has had the best training. She will take good care of you. Now, I will leave you to rest before the evening meal.”
The dowager duchess paused at the door and glanced over her shoulder. “If you need anything, Rosie will help you.”
Emma did nothing but yawn as Rosie helped undress her down to her chemise and tucked her in bed under the rich, silky covers. The last thing Emma remembered before falling into a dreamless and utterly exhausted sleep was the duke’s scowling face and his penetrating eyes as they had appeared their last time together.
***
“Miss Emma, wake up,” Rosie murmured as she threw open the doors to the wardrobe. The rustling of taffetas, silks, and satins pulled Emma from sleep. “It’s time to dress for dinner. There will only be family this evening so nothing formal. How about this lovely pink evening dress?”