Lady Emma's Campaign (23 page)

Emma hesitated as she followed
William and Amelia up the grand stairs into the duke’s ballroom. It was the last ball of the Season, and Emma’s mother and Amelia had insisted she attend. She smoothed down the gossamer netting over her pink satin gown. Anna, Amelia’s lady’s maid, had taken great pains to weave matching ribbons through Emma’s hair. The bruises on her face had faded. She wished she could say the same about her heart.

“Are you ready?” Amelia linked her arm through Emma’s and smiled. “You look beautiful,” she said. “That gown is the perfect complement for your skin.”

Emma didn’t care, and Amelia knew it. She would much rather be home reading a story to Nico or even playing marbles, but the Duke of Southampton was a dear friend of the family, and she knew he would feel badly if she did not attend.

As she reached the top of the stairs and surveyed the crowd, waiting to be admitted to the ballroom, her eyes fell upon a group of soldiers in Spanish uniforms. As the men parted, she recognized Princesa de Talavera, and accompanying her was a tall handsome man with the same thick dark hair, who Emma assumed to be her brother. Serena looked beautiful. She wore an elaborate and exotic gown, as suited her station, and a small tiara had been woven into her dark hair. Emma felt a thrill of joy at seeing her dear friend.

When Serena saw Emma, she hurried closer, and the women embraced.

“You remember my brother, Lord Lockwood,” Emma said. “And allow me to introduce Lady Lockwood. William and Amelia, Princesa Serena Antonietta de Talavera of the two Sicilies.

“My brother
,
Principe Rodrigo Fernando de Talavera.” Serena turned to her brother. “Rodrigo, this is my dear friend, Lady Emma Drake.”

Rodrigo took Emma’s hand and bowed elegantly. “I must thank you for assisting in the safe return of my sister, Lady Emma. She has spoken of little else since arriving from España.”

Emma curtsied. “Thank you, Your Excellency.”

“Here comes the duke,” Amelia said.

“And you are waltzing with
me
this evening,” William told his wife.

The duke greeted his old friends, and William introduced Serena and Rodrigo. When the duke turned toward them, his typically genial expression froze on his face as his eyes met Serena’s. For an awkward instant, he seemed unable to speak. But he seemed to collect himself, bowing to the principe and princesa. He offered his arm to Serena, whose face he could not seem to take his eyes from as she accompanied him into the ballroom. The sight made Emma smile, but at the same time, her heart felt heavy as she recognized the look of adoration in the duke’s eyes. She took Rodrigo’s offered arm and entered the room.

Rodrigo was charming. He wore a sash from his shoulder to his opposite hip, making him look every bit the foreign prince he was. He carried himself proudly and conversed politely, but Emma sensed he was decidedly uncomfortable with the young ladies who practically threw themselves in his path to get his attention. She watched Serena and the duke, who seemed to have forgotten that anyone else even existed. Certainly a handsome Spanish prince attending a London ball and the duke being smitten with a princess would be the talk of the town for quite some time.

The remainder of the night consisted of the same people sharing the same intrigues and gossip. The same gentlemen attempting to catch her eye and filling up her dance card. She listened with a wandering mind and a simulated smile as a group of her friends chattered about the disgraceful dress Olivia Dewitt had worn and how it did nothing for her figure. Emma felt frustrated. It was as if the world had changed, but the
ton
had not. Finally excusing herself, she stepped out onto the balcony, inhaling the cool night air.

A moment later, Amelia joined her. “You do not seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“Amelia, why is it so different? The women argue over which lace collar is a la mode while there are people across the sea who are not safe in their own homes. All of the gossip and scandal, and none of it matters when there is real suffering. I hear the officers telling glorious battle stories, but I know better. This”—she waved her hand to indicate the ballroom behind her—“none of
this
is real. And I do not feel as though I belong here anymore.”

Amelia turned to lean her back against the balcony railing. Emma continued to look out over the duke’s gardens. “The
ton
has not changed, Emma. It is
you
who have changed. You are not the same woman who followed her heart across the sea. You are strong, and you can see the truth behind the façades. It is a gift you have been given, and you must decide what to do with it.”

Emma sighed. “And what am I to do? Return to Spain and fight the French? I feel as though I do not belong anywhere. I cannot play this game any longer, pretending to be something I am not.”

“You are already doing something. What would have happened to Nico if not for you?” She laid her hand on Emma’s arm. “In a few weeks, we will be back at Lockwood Manor, and you will not have to worry about all of this. You will take Nico for walks in the forest, William can teach him to fish . . .” Amelia’s voice trailed off.

Emma glanced up at her then followed her gaze to the doorway where William stood, and next to him . . . Sidney.

Emma turned away and clenched the railing so hard she feared she would tear her gloves. She was vaguely aware of Amelia and William leaving but did not dare to turn around. Her stomach churned as every possible emotion fought for supremacy—hurt, anger, hope—and she waited to see which would win.

“Emma.” His voice was soft, and the hair on the back of her neck prickled at his nearness. “Will you not turn around?”

She shook her head, not trusting her voice. Why was he here? Did he not know that it would tear her apart to see him again only to say farewell once more?

He stepped closer, reaching his hands around her to detach her from the railing and turn her to face him. His crooked finger lifted her chin, and she allowed her eyes to meet his.

“Emma, please forgive me. As soon as I left you, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake that I have spent the last three weeks trying to rectify. What you said—I made the wrong choice.” He closed his eyes and took a breath, letting it out slowly. “I choose
you
. Please give me another chance to make this right.” His fingers traced along her jawline and down her neck, finally resting upon her shoulder.

Emma’s mind tumbled. She had been hurt so badly. Could she forget all of that and allow him back into her heart? “What about your family?” she asked, trying to keep her voice impersonal.

“William has helped me hire a solicitor to look into the financial situation. I think the Viscount of Stansbury and his household will be forced to tighten their purse strings, but I am assured they will survive. And they are my family in name only.” He leaned close enough that their foreheads nearly touched. “You and Nico, you are my family, or I hope you will be.”

Emma opened her mouth to answer, but Sidney kept speaking. “I have resigned my commission and taken a post as a commander upon a merchant vessel. Perhaps you have heard of it, the
Lady Jamaica
?”

“William’s ship?” Emma was beginning to wonder how long her brother had known what Sidney was planning. She just now registered the fact that Sidney was wearing a waistcoat and jacket instead of his uniform.

“The plan is to sail to Jamaica twice a year, at least for the time being, and of course, when the war is over, I intend to return to Spain to search for the treasure. My only problem right now is that I need to recruit two more crew members. I hoped that you and Nico might fill the last vacancies. That is, if you were my wife. What I mean to say is—” He rubbed his hand over his cheek. “This speech was perfect in my mind.”

Emma merely raised an eyebrow. She was not going to make it easy for him. “I think you did a much better job earlier when you proposed by accident.” This was certainly not the most polished proposal she had ever received, but somehow, his clumsy words still had her knees turning to jelly.

Sidney grinned, and the sight made Emma’s heart jolt. She allowed her face to soften into a smile.

“Will you be my wife, Lady Emma Drake?”

“Of course I will, Captain Sidney Fletcher.”

“Even if I cannot offer you a traditional noblewoman’s life?”

“After everything, how can you believe I would ever be content with something so boring as a traditional noblewoman’s life?”

Sidney brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, whispering against her lips, “
No eres solo. Me preocupo por ti. Voy a mantenerte a salvo
.”

Heart pounding and stomach fluttering, she tried to think of the words to express her utter joy, the ache of missing him, and just how much she was in love with him. But his lips upon hers banished the need for words, and she simply clung to him, allowing herself to drown in the sensation that the very thing she had wished for had at last come true.

Emma stepped into the upstairs
hallway of the manor house, pulling her wrap close around her shoulders. After the warm sun of the Caribbean, she did not think any number of blankets or knitted shawls would be able to keep her warm in an English winter. She peeked in the doorway of Nico’s bedroom and saw that his bed was empty.
He and Sidney must already be at breakfast
, she thought.

When she reached the staircase, she heard whispers and hushed laughter, and a moment later as she entered the main hall, she saw why. Sidney and Nico were covered in pine needles, and every doorway and mantel was decorated with greenery and ribbons.

“
Feliz Navidad!
” Nico cried, running toward her.

She snatched him up and kissed his cheeks. “Merry Christmas, my darling. But you must be quiet, or you will wake the baby.”

Nico pointed to the sitting room doorway just as William walked out holding a small bundle.

“Lady Charlotte has been awake for hours,” her brother said. “Apparently she prefers the early-morning patrol, though we have assigned her the dog watch.” He gazed lovingly at his child. “The two of us have been having a talk about allowing her mother to sleep.” He tucked the blanket around her little body, and Emma smiled. She did not think there was ever a man who doted upon a child as much as her brother.

Sidney took Nico from her arms, setting him upon the floor, and pulled Emma toward the dining room doorway to stand beneath an enormous kissing bough. “Are you sure you are happy to have Christmas here at Lockwood Manor with your brother instead of in our own home, Mrs. Fletcher?”

“Of course I am. I would not wish to miss Baby Lottie’s first Christmas, and these rooms are full of memories—such as my first kiss beneath the kissing bough.”

Sidney got a wicked gleam in his eye. “First, perhaps, but I wager you’ll not consider it your best. Some things only improve with practice.” He leaned toward her, and Emma closed her eyes, waiting for the touch of his lips that had become so familiar, yet even after months did not fail to send a thrill down to her toes.

“But it will have to wait,” Sidney said, smiling at her pout when she opened her eyes. “I have a Christmas gift for you.” He produced a small box from his pocket, and Emma opened the lid. Inside, wrapped in a piece of cloth was a golden chain attached to a pendant in the shape of a ship’s anchor.

He lifted the necklace and fastened it behind her neck, tracing his finger over the chain to where the pendant rested beneath her collar bone. “Emma, when my damaged mind sinks into a dark space of nightmares and bad memories, I have only to think of you, and . . . You are my anchor. I did not ever think I would depend upon the strength of a person so small,” he said, allowing a small smile to bend his lips.

Emma’s throat was tight. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Sidney, I—”

He placed a finger over her lips, winking. “And now, where were we?” He glanced up at the kissing bough, and the mischievous look reappeared in his eyes. He pressed his lips against her softly and then burrowed his fingers into her hair, holding her head in his hand and molding her body to his. When he finally pulled away, Emma’s mind was muddled for a moment, and she looked up at him, blinking away the haze in her eyes.

“I have half a mind to hang these bits of greenery from every inch of our home. This one, in particular, seems to be especially potent,” Sidney said in a breathless voice.

Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, gazing into his darkened eyes, knowing with a certainty that that particular expression would never fail to send her heart fluttering as long as she lived. “Perhaps we should put it to the test one more time?”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Sidney happily obliged.

No eres solo.

Me preocupo por ti.

Voy a mantenerte a salvo
.

Jennifer Moore is a passionate
reader and writer of all things romance due to the need to balance the rest of her world, which includes a perpetually traveling husband and four active sons, who create heaps of laundry that are anything but romantic. Jennifer has a BA in linguistics from the University of Utah and is a Guitar Hero champion. She lives in northern Utah with her family. You can learn more about her at authorjmoore.com.

Lady Emma’s Campaign
is a regency romance that takes place in Spain during the Napoleonic wars of the early 1800s.

Posttraumatic Stress Disorder affects millions of people worldwide. To recognize the symptoms, understand causes and treatment, or learn how you can help, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness at www.NAMI.org.