"Aunt Eleanor has been suggesting that we travel to London. She feels it would be beneficial in allaying any scandal and in assuaging any fears your family might have regarding our marriage."
Emme was afraid of that. She didn't wish to face her family. Her stepfather's disapproval was always expressed with as much cruelty as he could muster. Nonetheless, she understood the necessity of it. “If you think its best,” she said, simply, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Rhys cocked his head slightly, and leveled an assessing stare on her. He sensed the hesitation in her answer. “We will leave the day after tomorrow then,” he said.
Emme's stomach churned at the idea, but she said nothing. Dinner was announced and Rhys offered her his arm, leading her into the dining room. She could feel Eleanor's eyes boring into her back. It was obvious that the other woman was not pleased to have her position usurped in the home, especially by someone of Emme's standing. This fact was underscored by the snide comments and sugarcoated venom that she spewed during dinner. The dowager duchess did not involve herself in the fray but remained polite and poised throughout.
The main course had just been served when Eleanor looked at Emme and said, in a voice that was sickeningly sweet, “Well, this has been quite fortuitous for you, Emmaline. You came to Briarwood a gossip-shrouded spinster and now here you sit—a duchess. I imagine your family will be overjoyed to have such elevated connections."
Phyllis gasped, unable to simply ignore the barely veiled insult. Michael sipped his wine and waited for the explosion of temper he knew would come.
Rhys sharply, and with a single gesture, dismissed all the servants from the room before turning to Eleanor. His eyes were hard, and his words were cold when he spoke. “Aunt, you will speak to my wife civilly, and with all the respect due her according to her station. If you find that too difficult a task, perhaps you should remove yourself to your own residence, assuming your reprobate son hasn't lost it gaming."
Eleanor appeared instantly contrite. “Rhys, I don't know what you mean! It certainly was not my intent to offend! I was merely pointing out—"
"Enough!” he bellowed, and Emme jumped. The volume and the authority that his voice carried were stunning. “I know precisely what you are doing and I have had enough of it. You have two choices—either be civil or leave."
Alistair intervened then. “Mother, perhaps you should retire early. You've been so worried about scandal, it's understandable that you would be overset."
Eleanor met his gaze and after a moment, nodded. She rose from the table. “If you'll excuse me, I find I've developed a headache and wish to retire."
Rhys watched her go and then turned to Emme. “I am sorry for that. She has always been a stickler for propriety in this house, although she had little of it in her own."
Phyllis cleared her throat softly. “I for one couldn't be more thrilled to have you here, dearest. I think that both you and Rhys have made a wonderful match. I have no doubt that you will have a blessed and happy union ."
Emme sipped her wine and said thoughtfully, “It's all right, really. From anyone else's perspective I truly am nothing more than an upstart, social climbing, opportunist. The rumors will undoubtedly grow worse. When the London gossips get hold of it, I will have been communing with your late wife to learn how to snare you. She has a right to her suspicions."
Michael, quickly seizing upon any subject to ease the tension in the room, said, “I had meant to tell you earlier, I am returning to London myself. I had planned to leave on the morrow. Since you will set the tongues wagging in your direction for at least a week, I will have ample opportunity to misbehave."
Phyllis harrumphed. “Michael, you are incorrigible."
After Eleanor's departure, dinner was a reasonably peaceful event. They adjourned to the library with brandy for the men and sherry for the ladies.
It was there, before the fire, that Phyllis broached the subject. “I hate to ask, but have any of our resident spirits contacted you?"
Emme sought Rhys’ gaze and he shook his head imperceptibly. “Lady Phyllis, for the most part, I deny having that ability, but as we are now family, I will confess to you that it is true that I can see spirits. However, I have not seen the spirit of your late daughter-in-law."
Emme was quite proud of herself after that little statement. She'd managed to avoid telling the truth, but without actually uttering a lie.
Phyllis nodded. “These things take time, I'm certain. I think, in spite of her atrocious behavior this evening that I should check on Eleanor. She does mean well and does have the family's interests at heart."