Seven
Tristan strode into the parlor, his gait betraying none of the turmoil that churned within him.His brother William, the Duke of Thorne, with his dark blond hair catching the light streaming from the high windows, looked up from his brandy with an inquisitive arch of his brow.On a nearby settee, his sisters and their husbands paused their gentle ribbing and turned toward him, a collective curiosity painted on their faces.
“Pray tell, what news do you bring, brother?”Catherine, Duchess of Bedford, inquired, her blue eyes reflecting the same intelligence that often unearthed the heart of any matter.
“Quite the tale,” Tristan began, feeling the weight of every gaze upon him.“It involves a wager, Brooks, and...his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
A murmur rippled through the room as his siblings exchanged glances, their astonishment palpable.“Surely you jest, Tristan!”Louisa, the Countess of Stone, said, her romantic spirit flickering in her green eyes.
“Far from it.”He leaned against the mantelpiece.“I accepted Miss Emmeline’s hand as recompense for her father’s debt.”
“Good heavens,” Olivia said, exchanging a look of concern with her husband.
“Yet,” Tristan said, quelling their burgeoning worries with a steady voice, “I find myself strangely content with the turn of events.Miss Brooks has captured my admiration, and I would have sought her favor of my own accord had circumstances been different.”
“Then this marriage...”William mused, swirling his brandy thoughtfully.
“Is precisely what I desire,” Tristan said, his tone firm.“I shall endeavor to make it a true union of hearts and minds.It is not merely her reputation at stake but her well-being, and I am resolved to safeguard both.”
“Your chivalry is commendable,” Catherine said with a smile that reached her eyes.“Perhaps I should chaperone you and Emmeline, much like you did Charles and me.”
“How generous of you,” Tristan chuckled, warmed by the show of support from his family.“However, it is unnecessary, I assure you.After all, we are to be married.”
“Then we are all in your corner,” Stephen, Earl of Stone, declared, raising a glass in salute.
“Indeed,” Charles, Duke of Bedford, added.“We shall stand united to protect the lady’s good name.”
“As well as our own,” Olivia added.“For if this gets out, it will cause quite the scandal.”
Louisa waved a dismissive hand.“Who gives a fig so long as Tristan is happy?”
“Thank you,” Tristan said, his heart swelling with gratitude.“Now, if you will excuse me, I am bound for the Brooks’.I have promised Emmeline my company this afternoon.I merely wanted to make you all aware of the...recent developments.”
“As you should,” William said, swirling the brandy in his tumbler.
With farewells said and camaraderie bolstering his spirits, Tristan made his way to the Brooks’ and soon leaned against an intricately carved stone balustrade, his gaze casually surveying the lush expanse of the garden that stretched before him.
The vibrant array of colors, from the soft pinks to the rich crimsons of the roses, appeared even more vivid in the golden warmth of the afternoon sun.He had always found a certain solace in nature’s untamed beauty.
Turning his attention from the floral grandeur, Tristan’s eyes settled on Emmeline, who wandered in quiet contemplation among the blooms.Her dark hair was artfully coiffed, a few rebellious curls framing her face with a hint of defiance against the day’s gentle breeze.She seemed a part of the garden itself, as if she had bloomed amidst the foliage, radiating elegance and mystery.
“Emmeline,” Tristan called out with practiced ease, the corners of his mouth lifting into a charming smile.“One might think you are seeking counsel from the flowers.Do they share their secrets with you?”
She turned, her hazel eyes meeting his with an expression that matched his own playful demeanor.“My lord,” she replied, stepping closer, her skirts whispering against the grass.“If they did, I am afraid those secrets would be mine to keep.”
“Alas, then I must find another way to engage your attention,” he said, closing the distance between them with a leisurely stride.A rogue breeze stirred, sending a cascade of fragrant petals swirling around them, adding to the enchantment of the moment.“Might I inquire about your favorite pastimes?Surely there is more to you than a secret conversation with flora.”
“Indeed, my interests are varied,” Emmeline confessed, with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.“I find particular enjoyment in horseback riding.There’s freedom in it that nothing else affords.”
A spark of genuine interest ignited within Tristan as he nodded in understanding.“Ah, the thrill of galloping across open land, with only the sound of hooves against earth—it is a pleasure I too indulge in whenever possible.”
“Truly?”her lips curved upward ever so slightly.“And pray tell, where is your favored place to ride?I am always seeking new landscapes to explore.”
“Ride with me through the moors of Northumberland, and you shall witness vistas that will steal your breath away,” he murmured, his voice lowering, suffused with a warmth that spoke of shared passions and unspoken promises.
Emmeline’s gaze lingered on his, her eyes warm and playful.“I have heard tales of such beauty,” she admitted.“But to witness it alongside someone who appreciates the wildness as much as I do...that would indeed be a sight to behold.”
The air between them crackled with the connection developing between them.The anticipation of adventures yet embarked upon.As their voices softened, the boundary of propriety blurred, replaced by the intimate exchange of mutual desires.
