“Yes, you can. If you’re going to have me call you by your name, you should call me by mine. Otherwise, Emma will get the wrong idea.”
“The wrong idea?”
“She’ll think you work for me,” the duke explained. “People who address me formally but permit me to address them informally are members of our staff. And I don’t want her to think of you as that, because then she’ll expect you to stay. She won’t be expecting the fact that you’re going to leave. I want her to know that you won’t be with us forever. I want her to think of you as a guest, not as someone with a permanent position here.”
Bridget nodded slowly. “All right, Reeves,” she said. “I think that’s wise.”
He barked out a laugh. “You think something I want to do is wise?”
“Don’t get too used to it,” she said with a small smile. “Is that what you came in here to tell me?”
“That, and one thing more,” he said. “I’ve decided to have a ball.”
“A ball?”
“Yes, as a way of celebrating the fact that Emma is home safe. Just a small celebration with some close friends. I wanted to make sure you didn’t think that was a terrible idea. I’d like to think that Emma would be able to handle it, if only for a few short hours—she won’t have to remain down at the party the whole time. But if you think it would cause a setback, I don’t want to push her.”
“You’re asking my opinion?”
“That is why you came here, isn’t it? To give me your opinions on what would be best for Emma?”
“More or less,” she agreed. “Well, I don’t think there’s any serious harm in it, if that’s what you want to do. Emma will have to be around people eventually, and it might be good for her to do it in a controlled way. If it’s too much for her, she can just go up to her room early—I can take her.”
“I’m hoping for you to be at the ball at least some of the time, though,” Reeves said. “I’m planning to invite your cousin, of course. Prudence.”
“Well, it will be nice to see her,” Bridget said. “It’s kind of you to invite her.”
“Don’t think I’m just doing it for you. She is married to one of my closest friends, after all.” Reeves folded his arms. “So, in your judgment, the ball wouldn’t be a bad decision for Emma?”
“No, I don’t think so. And I think it will be easy enough to remove her from the situation if she finds it too stressful or unpleasant. It’s a good, controlled way to try to reintegrate her back into everyday life,” Bridget said. “And who knows? Maybe being around other people will be the thing that encourages her to start speaking again—althoughyoushouldn’t do anything about that. Don’t put pressure on her if she turns out not to be ready.”
Reeves glowered. “I don’t know why you think you have to keep telling me the same thing over and over.”
Maybe because you don’t seem to hear it?
She went to the chair Agnes had vacated as Reeves left the room and picked up the romance book. Shaking her head, she returned it to the shelf.
CHAPTER 14
The next morning, a knock at the door interrupted Reeves as he penned an invitation to the upcoming ball. He set down his pen with a sigh, though if he were honest with himself, he was glad of the interruption. This work was tedious. “Come in,” he called.
The door to his study swung open. Bridget stood there, her hands hidden in the skirts of her dress. He thought the posture made her look nervous.
She doesn’t usually look nervous around me, he realized.
It was a shocking thing to notice. He hadn’t registered it before—he had been too preoccupied with his opinions abouther audacious personality and the way she spoke to him about his daughter.
But he noticed it now, because her demeanor was in such contrast to what he had gotten used to. And because, if he hadbeen paying attention, this was what he would have expected from her. He had grown used to people being nervous around him. The scars on his face made him difficult to look at. They impacted the way people saw him. He was used to glances that darted away, to eyes widening in shock. He was used to knowing that people were wondering how he had gotten his scars, to assuming they thought he was dangerous because of them.
Bridget almost seemed as if she hadn’t noticed them. When she looked at him, she met his eyes and didn’t flinch. She had managed to make him forget he had scars on his face at all, something no one had achieved in a very long time.
Something had her nervous today, though. “What’s the matter?” he asked her. “Where’s Emma?” He recalled what had happened the last time he had summoned her to his study and Emma had been left on her own, anxiety mounting within him.
It must have registered on his face because Bridget held up her hands to calm him. “She’s all right,” he said. “I left her with the cook to try the tartlets that are being prepared for the ball. I tried one of them too. If the cook follows the same recipe on the night of the ball, I think the guests will be very happy.”
“I’m glad you approve of the menu,” Reeves said. “But is that what you came here to tell me?”
“No,” Bridget said. “I came here to tell you that we’re going outside for a picnic.”
