Colors of a Lady (22 page)

Thomas looked to his wife. He wanted to be
by her side, but there was business to discuss. With the arrival of
Thea and Juliet, Captain Wren’s will had to be re-examined. With
Emma as the sole beneficiary, she insisted most of the money must
go to them since she had a dowry from Lord Sheridan and had married
the son of a duke. Money was the least of her concern. There was
also couple of properties that the newlyweds would go visit while
on the Continent.

The butler knocked upon the door. All the
conversation drew to a halt. Thomas bowed to the other men and went
to join Emma’s side. He rested a hand upon her shoulder. The door
opened and two women stepped in.

“Mrs. Thea Wren and Ms. Juliet Wren.”

Thea was transformed from her role as lonely
innkeeper to a fetching widow. Her dark skin gleamed and her bright
eyes glowed in happiness. At her side stood her beloved daughter,
Juliet. When they had heard word of a twin of Emma’s, most expected
an exact replica down to the last springy coil of hair. But not
Juliet. No one could ever mix the pair up. Where Emma’s dark hair
was a mass of untamed curls, Juliet’s hair could be likened to
chestnuts and curled lightly around her face. Instead of her twin’s
fetching golden-brown eyes, Juliet peered at the word with eyes a
shade darker than her mothers. Even her skin did not have Emma’s
brown cast to it. Anyone who viewed her would consider her an
Englishwoman or maybe even half-French.

“Wow,” breathed Nathaniel.

Emma stared at Juliet. She wondered
immediately why she was taken to England and this girl remained in
Africa. Clearly Juliet would have been far more suited to grow up
in a noble household. Was she angry at her lot?

Juliet stared at Emma. Her twin appeared
like an exotic bird next to her perfectly English husband. Yet, she
was a marchioness and Juliet spent her days toiling below stairs.
Fate had led them to different lives. She both hated and loved this
sister of hers on sight.

“Welcome to our home. Well, it is still His
Grace’s home, but Th—Lord Hartwell and I too live here.”

“Any home of mine is yours, dear girl. You
are the mistress of this house,” Lord Kellaway interrupted with a
magnanimous grin.

She flushed. “I had forgotten. It is still
very new to me and it has only been about a week since we wed.”

“But a lovely week nonetheless,” insisted
Thomas. “Except for some parts,” he amended.

“Only a week?” Juliet had taken them to be
married for far longer. The way she leaned towards him and how he
looked down at her reflected a long-term companionship. Maybe they
knew one another in their youth.

“And still very much in love,” Thea
said.

Emma began to shake her head.

“Yes, I love very much being married to
her,” agreed Thomas. He smiled down at Emma, whose upturned face
was thunderous.

Caroline hopped to her feet and rushed over
to greet them.

“I am Lady Caroline Wren, but just call me
Caroline. I am Emma’s sister…well, no, her cousin since you are her
sister…but we grew up as sisters…so it is all very confusing.” She
turned to Thea. “I know for sure that you are my aunt. It is very
nice to meet you.”

“Really, Caro, you are confusing us all,”
Lady Sheridan admonished. She soon joined Caroline’s side. “Lady
Sheridan, but I do believe Constance will work just fine. I am
Emma’s mother.” She paled and shook her head. “No, I am her aunt.
Her only aunt now after what happened with…well, ahem, I believe
that I will cease speaking.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “That was not
confusing at all.”

“Mrs. Wren, I find myself greatly moved at
having met you at last. We have raised Emma as our own since Joseph
first returned from Africa. She is a treasure to us all.” Lord
Sheridan paused and adjusted his cravat. “I must say, however, that
had I known you were alive, I would have done all I could to bring
you to us.”

“I am sure you would have, Lord Sheridan.
There is little time to dwell upon the past. We are all together
now. All of us.” She looked to the Carradines. “More family?”

“Hardly,” answer Lady Carradine with a
laugh. “I am Lord Hartwell’s business partner and this is my
husband, the Earl of Carradine.”

“Pleasure,” he greeted with a bow.

“Now that we are all introduced, let us take
some seats and discuss Captain Wren’s will,” announced His Grace.
“Then we can get to eating. I am starved.”

Surely all of these people were not needed
to discuss this will. Juliet shook her head. These people were
quite odd, but they appeared friendly. Not one appeared at all
bothered by the death of a murdering family member and the arrival
of two new ones. Except Emma. She looked to pass out at any moment.
Perhaps she had a poor constitution. Her husband hovered over her,
ready to catch her if at all necessary. Grey eyes slid over to
Juliet. He offered her a polite smile.

Juliet’s eyes narrowed. In her experience,
polite smiles from noblemen were never what they seemed. Some hours
later they were usually cornering her in a darkened hallway begging
her to bed them. Surely this Lord Hartwell, with the obvious care
in his eyes, would not stoop to such acts. Lord Hartwell was now
her brother-in-law. These people were her family. Surely she could
dig deep inside of herself and trust them. But Juliet did neither
trusted nor liked most men. So she continued to glare.

Thomas blinked at the hostile reaction. What
had he done? They just met. He turned back to Emma.

“Juliet would be a society sensation if she
did the Season,” his wife commented without a hint of jealousy or
regret. She turned her doe eyes on him. “Don’t you think?”

“Certainly. The ton favors those with eyes
that resemble jewels. It is easier for the bucks to pen poems.”

She scoffed. “I am well aware. All poems
addressed to me involve witty rhymes about my figure or my assumed
sexual prowess.” Emma paused. “Oh wait, we cannot forget my
heritage. Not a single praise of my eyes though they do not
resemble jewels by any means.”

He did not know what to say at first. Emma’s
mood had been despondent of late. The recent events did little to
improve it. In fact, she fell further into a depression. Her lovely
lips frowned more than smiled. Thomas hated that he could not help
her regain the lightness in her heart.

“Jewel-tone eyes are overrated, my love.
Those big brown eyes of yours had moved me to pitiful poetry of
epic proportions. I just do not pen it to paper.”

“Truly? Are they just awful too?”

“Abominably so.”

“Could I hear just a snippet?”

“On the condition that you laugh shamelessly
at me.”

“I promise I will.”

The Marquess cleared his throat, ready to
embarrass himself at drop of a hat. It must be the way her mouth
upturned now at the corners.

“Oh Aphrodite of the chocolate eyes/whose
smile sets my heart aflame/her springy hair as soft as a
cloud/Coils betwixt my lonely fingers—“

Her laughter was sudden and shameless,
cutting of his recitation. Emma covered her mouth, stifling the
sound. He frowned. He knew they were bad, but the laughter was a
little too much.

“Oh Thomas, that was wonderful!”

“But you are laughing.”

“I love it though.” She grabbed one of his
arms. “Could you write it down for me? Please.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, kissing her
forehead.

Caroline watched the exchange from across
the room with a pleased smile. Hearing Emma’s laughter made her
feel as if her world was right again. Even with the inclusion of a
new aunt and cousin. At the reminder of that fresh-faced girl, the
blonde looked to her cousin. Juliet looked at the couple with a
shrewd eye, attempting to dissect the relationship on full display
for them all. A subtle sneer marred her features when Thomas
bestowed a chaste kiss. The girl shuddered and turned away.
Caroline blinked trying to understand that reaction. There were so
many different ways a person could interpret her apparent disgust.
But, she did not wish to venture upon those grounds. Juliet was
harmless and she was family. One could trust family. That is,
unless they had a murderous aunt on the loose. But really, that was
rare, was it not?

“I am not discussing
this amongst all these people,” bit out Juliet. Thea shot her
daughter a warning look. “No, Mama, why should we discuss our
business before all these strangers?” She retorted with a sniff.
Though she had grown up as little more than a servant, Juliet Wren
had never learned the art of submissiveness. She never lowered her
disarming gaze and spoke with a tone that could cut straight
through the Thames in the dead of winter.

Emma licked her lips. “Miss Wren is correct.
It really is a private matter. Perhaps we might venture to the
library?” She batted her brown eyes in a way she learned Thomas
could never resist. He nodded in agreement. A gentle smile twisted
his lips as he replied. Thea watched the exchange, eyes warming.
Despite only learning of a second child a few days ago, she could
not help the pleasure that grew in her chest at the happy marriage.
Though, she considered, it was difficult to be unhappy in a
marriage only a week old.

“Quite right. Let us withdraw to the
library. Emmy, Mrs. Wren, Miss Wren, Lord Sheridan.” They all
rose.

“Oh, Lady Carradine, do play us a lively
tune on the pianoforte!” called out Caroline. Her suggestion was
met with groans.

“It seems a tad early for such pursuits,”
Helena mumbled.

“Fie on you. Shall I ring for tea then?” Her
blue gaze slid over to her mother. “Mama?”

Lady Sheridan’s attention focused upon the
departing group. A vein in her neck throbbed as she let out a
breath. Constance disliked this intrusion of these women. Yes, it
seems they were, in fact, Emma’s true family. No, she did not like
the tone of that. True family? She was her true mother. She had
raised that babe into the well-bred lady that sat before them all
today. Yet this woman and her awful daughter…oh, she could not even
think about it!

“Mama? Oh bother, I shall do it myself!”
Caroline hopped to her feet. Everyone had been so strange lately.
Caroline felt much herself in the end. Life went on even with the
disappointing aspects.

Once in the hallway, Thomas pulled Emma
back. She shot him a questioning look. He placed a finger to his
lips and pulled her into a small room between the library and the
parlour.

“Truly, Thomas, what is this about?” Emma
looked around the room. It looked more to be a large closet than a
true room. There were trunks piled atop one another with a thick
layer of dust.

“Storage room,” he answered with a
shrug.

“But, of course. Why did you lead me in
here?” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you attempting to seduce me?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Thomas lifted a finger and poked her
forehead. “There would be no attempting. I would succeed. But, my
intentions are not so scandalously inclined.”

Her bright smile dipped into a frown. “Then
what?”

“How are you?” Concern etched its way into
his dark brows, lining his forehead with tiny grooves. Emma
shrugged off his question with a laugh.

“What an odd place to ask such a mundane
question. I am fine, of course.” She moved to leave the tiny room
with its insufferable dust. Thomas grabbed onto one of her
hands.

“Emmy.”

She stopped and turned to him. Those brown
eyes he knew so well were shiny with tears. Her mouth drew into a
firm line, trying to stop the trembling of her chin.

“I am just awful really,” she gurgled.
Thomas released her hand and opened his arms to her. She rushed
into them, blubbering all the while.

“Shhh, it may not be okay now, dearest, but
it will be soon.”

“It’s all like some blasted play. Honestly,
I could write a novel about it all and make a pretty penny. And
then Aunt Lucille…s-she just…I cannot believe I am still crying
over this!”

“Crying is natural indeed. You are so
strong, Emmy,” he assured her, caressing her back with tender
hands. “And that is why I love you.”

She stiffened in his arms. He heard a sniff
or two or three as she composed herself. Her head lifted from his
chest. Her lovely brown eyes turned accusing.

“Excuse me?”

Thomas bestowed an all too charming smile
upon her before repeating, “I love you.” He cleared his throat. “I
had truly wanted a grand gesture through which to impart my
feelings. As you know, these days since our wedding have
been…ah…eventful. I know how romantically-minded you are. You
daydream about princes on white horses and maidens locked up in
towers.”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling with a
practiced air, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hands.
“That I do; however, I am grounded enough to differentiate between
reality and fantasy.” She pulled away from him and crossed her arms
beneath her breasts. “I had been hoping, if you returned my
feelings that you would tell me so before we…you know…consummated
our marriage.”

“I had wanted to,” he insisted. “I was
worried you would assume I spoke the words in a fit of
passion.”

His wife flushed, a slight reddening that
went undetected by most people’s gazes. “It would have greatly
improved my experience.” She giggled, all sadness washed away from
her eyes. “Not to say it was not enjoyable…well, not the first
occasion, but certainly all the times after that.”

“Certainly,” he agreed before enveloping her
into his arms. They kissed with the awareness of this new love and
the promise of many such kisses every day of their lives.

Juliet offered to go fetch her wayward new
relations. She had caught the end of their private conversation
from her post outside the door. Disgusting. Her sister allowed that
man to befoul her body. She trembled. Juliet had always disliked
the animalistic mating patterns in which humans reveled. Men did
not pique her interest in any way other than a source of
wealth.