Emma hadn’t eaten much in recent days, and her stomach rumbled at the sight and smell of the food. After she piled her plate with eggs, fruit, and cheese, she sat down at the table and nodded thanks when a servant poured her a cup of chocolate.
“How is everyone this morning?” Emma asked in a voice foreign to her own ears. Where had she gone? Who was this person in her place? Who was this woman who resembled her, but had no life left inside? Would she ever be herself again?
Lately she had felt a hundred years old.
“The question is,” her mother-in-law said as she reached across the table and squeezed Emma’s hand, “how are you?”
Emma answered with a lie. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
“Any fool can see you are not fine.” Amelia looked at her with a deep frown on her delicately shaped brows. “I don’t care what you say; you’re not fine.”
“My sister is right,” Bella added, her own face looking sad. “You are not fine. What did my stupid brother do?”
“Isabella!” her mother admonished. “Do not speak about the duke like that. Yes, he is your brother, but give him the respect due his status as duke and head of this family.”
“Why would I?” Bella asked indignantly, her eyes searching her mother’s face for an answer. “He obviously did or said something to upset Emma. He might be a duke, but he is also a man and behaves like an arse sometimes.”
“Isabella.” Her mother sighed with resignation. “Watch your tongue. Language like that is not acceptable for a lady, not in any setting.”
Bella bowed her head and looked not in the least contrite as she stared over at Emma. “Yes, Mama, you are absolutely right. That is deplorable language and unbecoming a well-bred lady such as myself.”
For the first time in days Emma found herself smiling, even though her heart was breaking into a thousand tiny shards at the thought of leaving them. She would miss these ladies so much.
“His Grace and I are traveling back to London as soon as he feels up to it. And I might as well confess all to you now.” Pain and dryness in her throat made it difficult to go on. She took a sip of her warm chocolate. “There is a chance I will go back home to America from there.”
Loud gasps went around the table. It was Bella who spoke first, her eyes wide with shock. “But you are married to my brother. Surely he is not . . .”
Emma shook her head violently. “No, if I decide to go he will not be coming with me.” There. She said it. Nobody else spoke, and tension grew and hung in the air all round them.
“If you decided to go, how long will you be gone?” The question came from the dowager duchess and was nothing more than a whisper.
Emma refused to cry and fought the burning in the back of her throat and nose. “Forever….” Emma breathed out the word as if she expelled the life out of her body with it.
“Forever,” Amelia said in shocked disbelief. “Surely you cannot mean that? You are married. You are a duchess. You have to stay. What about Thomas?”
“Daughters,” her mother-in-law said, “leave us.”
Once they left, Thomas’s mother spoke to a servant about closing the door and not being disturbed.
“Let us talk honestly,” the dowager duchess began. “Obviously something disturbing has transpired between you and my son. For the love of God,” she choked out, “please tell me what happened before my heart stops.”
Emma explained all she knew. Everything from the first letter she received from Thomas to most of what had happened since, leaving out certain embarrassing situations and their various private kisses and caresses. She refused to share information about them, just as much as she refused to remember them. If she did, she would cry and have to face the loss of feelings and emotions she would never experience again.
“So, am I to understand that you are still pure and the marriage remains unconsummated?”
Feeling the heat of a blush rise on her face, Emma nodded her head.
“How utterly stupid of my son,” the dowager commented huffily.
Silence followed––not the soothing or comfortable kind. Rather, the kind of silence that hung heavily in the room. Emma hugged herself and shivered.
“Please excuse me while I have a word with my son.” And Thomas’s mother left the room.
Left alone with her runaway thoughts again, Emma let the tears fall as they might. The tears came, but the sobs stayed away this time. These tears were tears of sorrow for all that she would lose if she left.
Tears for the loss of the love––and yes, she was young, but she recognized the quality of enduring love she felt for Thomas. Additional tears fell for the loss of her newfound family.