Unlike the Welbourne desk, Nicholas's was surprisingly neat and tidy, with everything in their proper slots. A small account book sat on top of the blank stationery, marked with the ducal arms pressed into creamy paper.

"Mama should appreciate that," Emily murmured as she reached for a piece of the fine paper. But as she pulled out a pile of sheets, she dislodged a small gold box. It fell on to the desk with a loud thunk, one of the little hinges knocked loose.

"Oh, blast!" She scooped it up in dismay. Surely breaking her husband's possessions was not the way to impress him! The tiny, intricately worked lid fell open, spilling out a miniature portrait framed in pearls.

Emily caught it on her palm. The gold edge was engraved "V. M. M." Behind a clear panel on the back coiled a dark curl of hair entwined with a finer blond strand.

She turned it over, and found herself staring down at a beautiful woman, possibly the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Glossy, dark-brown curls fell over her shoulders and framed an oval face that was all high cheekbones, cla.s.sical aquiline nose and melting dark eyes. She smiled up at Emily, her eyes sparkling as if at some hidden joke.

Emily felt as if the breath was knocked from her. This could only be Nicholas's first wife, his Valentina. She rubbed her thumb over the smooth ivory. The dark woman really was uncommonly beautiful, and she seemed to glow with some inner fire of life. A fire which Emily herself had only begun to understand when she came here to Welbourne. Here, she had felt the first hopeful stirrings of something real and vital deep down inside.

Now she only felt cold. How could she compete with a woman like this? A dark, vivid beauty who was gone and therefore perfect.

She carefully replaced the painting in its damaged box and hid it down deep in the desk. She closed the lid over it gently, but still it seemed to glow.

Her glance fell on Stephen's little pile of charms, and she began to think he must have the right idea. The t.i.tle of d.u.c.h.ess of Manning seemed cursed. First Nicholas's mother; then Lady Linwall, who died of a fever in Naples as soon as she married her love; now foolish Emily Carroll. Did Stephen have a charm to fight off a curse like that? She rubbed her palm over the tiny horseshoe that hung around her neck with the precious emerald pendant that was Nicholas's wedding gift to her. Were they enough to ward off ill luck?

She heard a sudden noise in the corridor, voices and heavy footsteps on the marble floor. Quickly, she wiped her damp eyes and reached for the paper and a pen. She could not let anyone see that she had found that portrait! She couldn't cry to Nicholas, and demand to know why he kept Valentina's portrait so close. Like a jealous wife. Not when they were both trying so hard to make this ridiculous marriage work.

Nicholas opened the library door, letting in more of the dying daylight. It fell across his damp, curling hair, turning it as pale as the second curl in the portrait casing. "What are you doing so industriously, Em?"

She glanced up at him and forced herself to smile. She couldn't let him see that she had found the portrait. "I'm writing to my mother. She chided me in her letter for not sending word as soon as we arrived."

"Well, she can see you for herself soon enough."

"What do you mean? We're meant to be here a fortnight, then go on to Scarnlea Abbey."

Nicholas sat down in the chair across from the desk. He smiled at her, but his brow was lined with a tension that had not been there at the lake. "A slight change of plans, I fear. Some business has come up in town I must attend to at once."

Emily stared at him in shock. "Y-you're going back to London? Already?"

"I thought perhaps we both might go. Then you could see your parents before we travel to Scarnlea, and I dare say there might be a party or two to attend."

"But what sort of business...?" Emily remembered the letter he had received from Derrington. "Not your sister Charlotte?"

"No, no. In fact, Charlotte has given birth to a beautiful baby girl. Drew says that mother and daughter are recovering well, thank G.o.d."

"Then your niece Katherine will have a playmate!"

"She will indeed. No, my business is something dull to do with an unfortunate loan my brother Leo took out. It should not take long to solve."

Emily nodded, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it all. Perhaps the dark-eyed lady needed him, or maybe he could not bear to be away from her so long. Whatever it was, she would have to find the strength to bear it. To be that perfect d.u.c.h.ess she had resolved to be for him.

She laid aside the pen and smiled at him. "Well, the news from Derrington is certainly welcome. Hopefully we will soon add to all those little playmates."

To her surprise, he responded to her light words with a fierce frown, and leaned across the desk to grasp her hand. "Emily, are you...?"

His clasp was too tight, his reaction to her teasing not at all what she expected. Surely he wanted children- an heir-and very soon? It seemed to be what all men wanted.

"No," she said. "At least I don't think so. Surely it is too soon to know?"

He nodded, and raised her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. "There is no hurry at all," he muttered. "There are so many Mannings running about, I don't think we need to add to them."

"Of course there isn't," she said, bewildered. Was he disappointed in her, that there was no child already? "We are young, and only just now married."

He pressed her hand to his cheek. "Emily, my dear, if you suspect anything you will let me know at once, won't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"I won't let anything happen to you, I promise. Nothing will ever hurt you, not while I am here."

"I know you will take care of me, Nicholas." She slowly reached up to rest her free hand on his head, the strands of hair like damp silk against her skin. "I will never let anything hurt you, either."

Emily kissed Nicholas, putting all her hidden feeling into it, all she couldn't say to him. Inside she felt cold and hollow. She had always longed to be a mother, to have her own children to love and care for, but Nicholas did not seem to share her desire. Would a baby just be one more tie to the wife he hadn't really wanted? And if that was so-how could she ever live with it?

Nicholas watched Emily across the dinner table as she told him the news from her mother's letter. The candlelight cast a soft amber glow around her, making her look like a gentle angel in some Renaissance painting, all golden and ethereal.

Here at Welbourne, she wore her hair in loose waves pinned atop her head rather than stylish ringlets, and her evening gown was simple pale-green muslin trimmed with gold ribbons, though she wore it with her emerald pendant and the pearl earrings Justine had given her. In the last few days, she had laughed and smiled more than ever before, her expression taking on an open, curious aspect as she stepped into the magical world of Welbourne, explored their new life with him. Though she still seemed rather shy and careful, so much of that had melted away to show the laughing, tender-hearted girl beneath.

It was entrancing to watch her slowly blossom. It made him feel alive again, too, made him want to jump into the world in a way he never had since Valentina died. Tonight, though, it looked like her smile was strained, her chatter just a little too quick, too taut and bright.

What had made her change? The prospect of returning to London?

Or perhaps she had sensed his panic at the thought she might be pregnant. He had grabbed quickly on to his self-control again, but that fear had been too real, too raw. The force of it shocked even himself, that realisation of what it would be to lose Emily when he had just found her.

He had never dreamed he could feel that way about quiet, proper Emily Carroll. But then again, she was not always so very proper. And she had so many hidden, fascinating depths, like a summertime rose with its golden heart hidden away. His world would be dark without her. She had made him see the way to a new life, a new brightness. He had to protect her in return.

And yet he had not been as careful in bed as he should.

"...says we must give a ball as soon as the next Season begins," she was saying. She nodded to the footmen to bring in the next course, and they scurried to obey her. Even the servants of Welbourne, so stubbornly devoted to his family and wary of outsiders, had taken her to their hearts. Crusty Mrs Courtney made sure her linens were laid with rose sachets, and Signor Napoli made new t.i.tbits every evening to tempt her.

"Your parents are giving a ball?" he said.

Emily laughed. "Certainly not. They could scarcely fit twenty people into their town house. Mama says we must have a ball, and put Manning House to fine use again, as it was back when they were such friends with your father."

"You can have any sort of party you want next year, Em," he said as he reached for his wine gla.s.s. "It may take some time for the redecorating, though."

"That can be my excuse for putting a ball off until the next year, then!" She bit her lip uncertainly. "Unless you think people will expect one sooner?"

"They can expect whatever they like. We'll just have to be very lavish, and thus very slow, in our refurbishments. Maybe we could order a new painted ceiling from France? Silks from India? Plasterwork from Italy?"

"A hardwood dance floor from the West Indies, maybe?"

"You are the d.u.c.h.ess. Whatever you want is what we shall have."

"I want something simple and pretty, and smaller than Manning House. But I also want you to be proud of your house. I have so many ideas for refurbishment, but I want to be sure it's just right."

Nicholas frowned as he studied her through the candle light. Her eyes looked so worried, her thumbnail ragged as she reached for her gla.s.s. He had learned that when she bit her nail it was a sure sign of inner turmoil. His heart ached at the thought. He had vowed to make her life easy and happy, not cause her more worry! He hadn't yet learned how to be a husband; probably he never would.

"You could never do the wrong thing, Emily," he said gently. "Everyone is quite envious of me already for marrying the most beautiful lady in London. They will look to you to set the styles now, to tell them what is the right thing to do. If you wore a pineapple on your head, they would all do the same."

Emily laughed, and to his relief some of the clouds cleared from her eyes. "I doubt I should want to wear fruit on my head, but if I decide differently I will keep that in mind." She was becoming more confident of late, but perhaps not that confident. There had to be other fashions she could start that would not involve groceries!

"You're already a splendid d.u.c.h.ess. Now, what else does your mother say in her letter?"

"She and Papa are packing to return to the country, and the noise of it all is giving her fainting fits. And she has caught a cold. And she tells me I must stay out of the sun or I will freckle. Advice that comes too late, I fear."

She told him the other news from town, and they laughed together over a card game after dinner. Yet still Nicholas couldn't quite shake away the dark cloud that had descended over their golden idyll. Even as he held her in his arms that night, listening to her soft, sleeping breath, she was drifting further and further out of his grasp.

Chapter Nineteen.

"Emily, I was just..." Amy stopped abruptly in the doorway of Emily's Manning House bedchamber, one glove half off her hand. "Oh, Emily, are you ill?"

"Close the door, Amy, quickly," Emily croaked. She shut her eyes tightly and clung to the chamberpot where she had just lost her breakfast. The queasy dizziness still washed over her in clammy waves, but not as intensely.

Amy swiftly shut the door behind her and hurried over to the basin of water on the wash stand. She rang out a cloth and knelt beside Emily to gently wipe her brow. "Better now?"

Emily leaned towards her, grateful for her sister-in-law's brisk efficiency, her take-charge manner. She needed such sensible help now.

"Yes, thank you, Amy," she said.

"You are certainly doing your duty as d.u.c.h.ess very quickly, Emily," Amy answered, a hint of satisfied amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice.

"My duty?"

"Yes. This is not just a food that didn't agree with you, is it? It's morning sickness. My mother always said she had it right away with me and my sisters."

Emily sat back hard on her heels, stunned. Underneath her shock, a bright spot of hope bloomed, flickering and tentative. "You mean-I might be enceinte? Already?"

Amy covered the pan with a wrinkle to her nose and put it away when it seemed Emily's sudden illness had pa.s.sed. "I haven't been blessed with my own child yet, but I do know the signs. It must have happened on your wedding night, you clever girl."

Emily pressed her hands to her stomach. Under the soft muslin of her morning gown it felt as flat as ever. But she remembered that wedding night, or rather the morning after, and that wondrous pleasure she found in Nicholas's arms. Could they really have made a new life then? She smiled to think of it, a tiny child growing inside her. The start of a new family.

"When will I know for sure?" she said. She slowly got up and made her way to the chaise by the fireplace, feeling shaky.

"Not for a few weeks, I would think," said Amy. "But how do you feel? Do you sense it's true?"

"I certainly hope it's true, but I just don't know. Everything is just so new-being married, being a d.u.c.h.ess." Being in love.

"Well, your parents will be terribly happy," Amy said. "Not to mention your husband! A little heir already."

"Even if it is true, it might be a little ladyship and not an heir." But even that thought made Emily's hope burn even brighter. A little lady swathed in lace, with her father's beautiful blue eyes. She had never imagined such a vast and burning joy.

Amy laughed. "Even better. Then Rob and I will have a son and one day they can marry!"

Emily laughed, too. "It might be rather early to sign the marriage contract. I'm not even sure there is a child yet, and Nicholas will have to be told. Oh!"

A sudden fear struck her, and she clutched tighter to her stomach. She remembered Nicholas's reaction at Welbourne, when he thought she might be pregnant. He looked horrified, as if having a child with her would be a terrible fate.

If she was truly with child now, would that horror be a hundredfold? What would she do? She couldn't bear it if he turned from her now, when she was beginning to see just how much she needed him. And she absolutely could not bear it if he turned from their child.

"Amy, you won't tell anyone, will you?" she said. She reached for Amy's hand and held it tightly.

"Certainly not. It's your place to announce the happy news."

"Not even Rob. Not yet. Promise me?"

Amy shook her head. "I promise, if you like. But surely this is happy news!"

"I just want to be sure first. I don't want anyone to be disappointed if it's not true." Or disappointed if it was true. Things were so new, so delicate between her and Nicholas now. She didn't want to disturb it just yet.

"I won't tell, Emily. But is something amiss? Is there something-not right between you and your husband?"

Emily shook her head. "It's just too soon."

"Then it can be our secret for now."

"Thank you."

"But in return you must promise me you will write to me as soon as you know for certain! I will be aching to know."

Emily noticed suddenly that Amy wore a travelling pelisse and carriage dress. "Are you leaving town so soon?"

"Within the hour, I'm afraid. We're to spend the summer in Derbyshire at Rob's new estate, soliciting votes for the next election. It's terribly exciting! And Rob is so grateful for your husband's help in seeing us settled. We could never have expected it so soon."

"I'm glad you're looking forward to the summer. I just wish you didn't have to be so far away right now."

"You must come visit us. If you feel up to travelling, that is. But now I fear I must say goodbye, and beg a great favour from you."

"Of course I will help if I can."

Amy smiled. "Dear Emily, always so generous! But you may regret it when you hear what it is."

"I'll only regret it if you need someone to clean up after your illness!" Emily said with a laugh.

"Not at all! I was invited to a tea-and-cards party at Lady Arnold's house this afternoon. I'm afraid my backing out at the last moment will leave her card tables uneven. Can you go in my place?"

Emily remembered what happened the last time she was at Lady Arnold's-scandal and a forced betrothal. She laughed ruefully. "I will go if I must. I'll have to start going out in society again soon anyway. But are you sure Lady Arnold would accept me as a subst.i.tute, after what happened at her ball?"

"That was the social triumph of Lady Arnold's life. And she will be in alt to have the d.u.c.h.ess of Manning at her party. I will write to her immediately. If you are sure you're feeling well enough?"