Page 53 of A Game of Hearts

Warmth bloomed in Emma’s chest at this evidence of Nathaniel’s determination to make everything perfect. Even now, he was proving his dedication through actions rather than mere words.

“Though that’s not the most interesting part,” Lady Beatrice continued, her eyes dancing. “Lord James says that his brother has been corresponding with your father daily since that first letter a few days ago.”

Emma’s breath caught. She knew of the initial exchange - her father’s cautiously worded permission for Nathaniel to call on her in town, once they returned. But daily correspondence?

“He wants to do everything properly,” Lady Beatrice said softly, reading Emma’s expression. “To ensure that your father understands both his intentions and his character. Lord James says that he’s never seen his brother so determined about anything.”

“He need not try so hard,” Emma murmured, though her heart sang at this evidence of Nathaniel’s commitment.

“Needn’t he?” Lady Beatrice’s voice gentled. “After everything that has happened? I rather think that he feels that he must prove himself worthy of not just your trust, but your family’s.”

Before Emma could respond, another tap at the door heralded Lady Agatha’s arrival. Her aunt surveyed the scene with knowing eyes.

“Discussing tomorrow’s ball, I see.” She moved to adjust Emma’s necklace. “Though perhaps some details should remain surprises?”

Lady Beatrice’s eyes widened.

“Oh! You mean...”

“I mean nothing at all.” But Lady Agatha’s smile held secrets. “Now then, we should go down. I believe that certain gentlemen are already awaiting our arrival in the drawing room.”

The drawing room hummed with pre-dinner conversation when they entered. Emma was immediately aware of Nathaniel’s presence near the fireplace, deep in discussion with the Duke. He looked up as she entered, and the warmth in his eyes made her heart skip.

“Miss Everton.” He bowed perfectly. “Might I show you something? His Grace has been most helpful with a particular project.”

Emma moved to join them, conscious of the eyes following her progress across the room. The Duke’s smile held approval as he stepped away, leaving them in relative privacy while remaining perfectly visible to all.

“I wanted to ask your opinion.” Nathaniel’s voice was low, meant for her ears alone. “About the masks for tomorrow night.”

He drew a small package from his coat pocket, unwrapping it carefully. Inside lay two masks - one silver, one deep blue, both decorated with intricate patterns that somehow complemented each other perfectly.

“The blue would suit you,” he said softly. “Though only if you approve, of course.”

Emma’s fingers traced the delicate silver work on the blue mask. The design incorporated tiny stars and what looked like ocean waves - a subtle reference to his naval background.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathed. “Though I suspect that they required rather more than just the Duke’s help?”

His smile held a touch of sheepishness.

“The housekeeper may have provided some assistance. And Lord James contributed his artistic talents. Though the design...” He hesitated. “The design is meant to show how two different natures might complement each other. Strength and delicacy. Rules and freedom. Perfect balance in seeming opposition.”

Emma’s breath caught at the deeper meaning in his words. Before she could respond, dinner was announced.

But as he offered his arm to escort her in, she saw in his expression all the hope and determination that had gone into creating something so perfectly symbolic of their journey together.

Dinner passed in a haze of anticipation, every glance between them laden with meaning. The Duke kept the conversation general, speaking of preparations for tomorrow’s ball, but Emma noticed how he skilfully deflected any references to previous events. The ton’s memory might be short when it chose to be, particularly when presented with a more interesting current narrative.

“I understand, Miss Everton,” Lord Radmill said during the fish course, “that you’ll be returning to town next week?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Emma kept her voice steady, though her pulse quickened at the thought of what awaited in London - properly chaperoned calls from Nathaniel, the chance to build something real beyond the magical atmosphere of the house party.

“Excellent timing,” the Duke inserted smoothly. “The Season will be beginning in earnest. I expect that we shall see quite a few familiar faces at various events.”

His meaning was clear - their courtship would have society’s approval and support. Emma caught Lady Agatha’s satisfied smile. Her aunt had played no small part in managing this transformation of circumstances.

“Though I fear that London’s ballrooms may seem rather ordinary after tomorrow night’s entertainment,” Lady Beatrice added. “His Grace’s Masquerades are legendary.”

“Particularly when certain guests put such effort into their preparations.” The Duchess’ eyes twinkled as she glanced between Emma and Nathaniel. “I was most impressed by the workmanship on those masks, my Lord.”