Never had she envisioned her life as it was now, without Papa or the support of anyone else. Yes, she knew she had Bella and Amelia, but she could never confide in them about their brothers. She had behaved scandalously, and if word of that traveled about, she would be ruined. And she was anyway. The man she loved, and would love for the rest of her life, wanted to marry her off quickly to another. She did not believe he would ever propose again.
Surely, Papa left her an allowance in his will? Would he put his trust completely in the son of his childhood friend? A long time ago…had Thomas mentioned something about money in trust for her? Sighing, she rose to her knees and climbed out of the bed, determined to do something, anything to change her current situation.
She pulled on the tassel to summon Rosie. Tonight there was to be a soiree at Lord and Lady Booneville’s Mayfair home. She would show the duke; she would find her own husband.
Wentworth had made it perfectly clear she needed to find a husband and move out. So she would take matters into her own hands. She refused to let him dictate who she would spend the rest of her days with. What right did he have, anyway?
Myles would make an acceptable husband. He was handsome, witty, and kind. Except there was one major problem. Bella loved him and Emma didn’t. She groaned. Still, there were other eligible men in London. She would just find an amiable and interesting one and flirt shamelessly. Someone must be willing to marry an American with a large dowry.
Did I have a large dowry? That was another something she would have to speak to him about.
Wait. Emma’s stomach knotted up. What had Sebastian said about her papa’s money? That without it, Thomas would be broke. How could that be? Dukes were rich, were they not? That was another conversation she would have with him. She could no longer let herself think of him as Thomas, either. And if her papa’s money was paying for his more-than-modest lifestyle, then surely he could give her a yearly allowance and let her be.
Maybe she would go back to her original plan and return to Boston to live out her days in solitude, writing to her heart’s content. That sounded more appealing.
If Sebastian’s blackmailing worked with Wentworth, maybe she could do the same. Blackmail him into letting her return home, live in her papa’s sea captain’s home by the ocean, where she could write for pleasure.
She had a niggling feeling he would agree to anything, if she threatened to expose their little liaison in the library. Not that she would ever do such a thing because it would surely affect her more than him. But would Sebastian remain silent about events in England if she returned to America? Her life could be ruined on either side of the ocean.
Wentworth had proposed but didn’t really want to marry her. He was expected to marry someone of his class and was only being honorable because someone caught them in a compromising situation.
Yes. She knew that…but…
Suddenly the solution became clear. Her heart lifted and she opened her wardrobe, searching for just the right gown to wear that night. Everything had to be planned accordingly in order for her scheme to work. If things went according to plan, by this time tomorrow Emma could be packing for her journey home.
***
By the time Thomas arrived back at Amesbury’s home he felt far worse than when he had left. In his friend’s bedchamber, he found Amesbury sleeping. He looked less pale. Myles slept slouched in a chair; he would have the devil of a sore neck when he awoke.
Quietly, taking a seat in a brocade chair by the fireplace, Thomas closed his eyes, hoping to alleviate the pounding in his head and his heart. There were days when being a duke was torture. Adding careless stupidity to the mix hadn’t helped. He’d really messed up the family he’d tried to support and protect. And possibly ruined any chance he had for happiness.
He looked from one friend to the other.
It could be worse. He could be Amesbury.
Thoughts of his friend drifted in his head. Seeing Amesbury lying in bed, his skin tinged blue, barely breathing and at death’s door, had shocked Thomas to the core. Life was fleeting and one never knew from one day to the next what could happen. Amesbury had seemed afraid to marry Lady Beth. Could that be because of his weakness––the opium his body and mind had craved? Or was it something else entirely?
Amesbury did not appear to have money issues, but what did he know? Rumors of Wentworth’s family’s lack of coin had traveled through the ton like a forest fire during a dry spell. Could his friend have kept such a secret? He doubted it.
So if not money issues, what had made him turn to laudanum to numb his brain?
Thomas sighed. He would have to believe that Amesbury would confide and seek his help when he was ready. Meanwhile, Thomas would do anything to keep his friend alive, even if it meant begging Lady Beth to break their marriage contract. Thomas believed if Amesbury were to continue with his engagement to Lady Beth, he would continue to use opium and ultimately die. The breaking of the betrothal would have all the gossips wagging their tongues. However, it would not be the first time a lady broke off an engagement with a marquess, and it certainly would not be the last.