Emily had, at one time, considered Prescott’s estate, Eden’s Court, imposing. And although her awe persisted, she’d grown somewhat accustomed to the grandeur of the foyers, the elaborate dining room, and the endless gardens. Eden’s Court exuded a warmth, much the same as Sophia herself. Emily wondered if the estate had felt the same before the old duke passed away—if the older duchess had imparted her own particular warmth to the great manor. She certainly didn’t now, hiding at the dower house most of the time.
Would her own mother-in-law move to a dower house as well?
Would she hate Emily as much as her father-in-law was certain to?
As the carriage approached Candlewood Park, Emily shivered. A thick stand of trees protected the castle from all sides. Tightening her shawl about her shoulders, Emily felt as though the temperature dropped at least twenty degrees when the carriage pulled to a stop at the end of the winding drive.
Twin turrets loomed over the U-shaped steps leading up to the large oak door like soldiers guarding a fortress. The various leafy vines clinging to the walls seemingly held the castle fast to the hill. Sunshine landed on the south side of the stone walls, leaving the remainder in dark shade.
It would be easy to imagine ghosts from the past hiding amongst the shadows.
Cecily raised her brows ominously when she met Emily’s eyes.
Before either could speak, sounds of the steps being lowered preceded the carriage door opening.
A uniformed footman stepped back as Stephen Nottingham reached in to assist his wife and son. Emily noticed tentative smiles on both their parts.
“Did he fuss?” Cecily’s husband reached for little Finn and then gathered him up so Cecily could climb out more easily. Before backing out, though, he pressed his lips to the curve of her cheek.
“He was an angel.” Cecily’s entire countenance changed. She damn near glowed.
The liveried manservant then assisted both Cecily and Emily to the ground. Marcus stepped out from behind Mr. Nottingham to take Emily by the elbow.
This menacing structure had been his home as a child. What thoughts raced through his mind at this moment? He’d taken her by the arm as soon as she’d alighted. Was he protecting her or using her to safeguard himself? She nearly snorted at the thought.
It didn’t matter what he wanted. That wasn’t what their union was about. She was a shield for him against the woman he’d been betrothed to for over a decade.
And she was also, she admitted to herself, something of a weapon. She was present only so that Marcus could lash out at his father.
Marcus stood mere inches away from her. Closer than necessary.
She did her best to ignore his warmth.
Impossible.
Not impossible.
Necessary.
She needed her own shield, her own weapon. Something to protect her from what was to come.
“Are you well?” His voice rumbled behind her.
She braced herself against imagining he sounded as though he cared for her. He’d likely say the same to any woman.
Nothing special about her.
Just a wife.
“I’m fine.” Her voice came out a whisper. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.” There. She sounded stronger this time.
The imposing doors opened, and two women emerged followed by an elderly gentleman who was not the duke. Emily immediately recognized Marcus’ sister and the Duchess of Waters. She’d seen them numerous times over the past two years but never been introduced.
Lady Hartley had the same coloring as Marcus: dark hair, deep green eyes. Proud bearing.
Although his mother held her head high, she appeared drawn and tired.
Marcus drew Emily toward them. “Emily, I’d like to present to you my mother, the Duchess of Waters, Mother, my wife, Emily, Lady Blakely.”
