Free Love & Folly by Sheila Simonson Page B

him off to his bed, for he looked pale. Then, because McGrath was a trifle elevated,
she and Richard saw their guests out. A groom in Sir Robert Wilson's livery strode up with a message as
Richard was about to close the door against the icy wind. Emily's heart sank. She took the shivering lad
belowstairs for a tot of McGrath's rum, tipped him and sent him off to the hostelry Sir Robert
patronised.
    Richard was still in the foyer, frowning at the letter, when she returned.
    She touched his arm. "My dear..."
    "I'll come up shortly, Emily." He spoke with his usual calm, but she felt the tension in his
arm.
    "I'll give Mrs. Harry my orders and await you upstairs." When she went to their bedchamber, she
donned her nightclothes and sat for a time at her vanity, brushing her short curls and trying not to think the
worst.
    The Dowager Duchess of Newsham had suffered grave illness twice since Emily married Richard.
Both times Richard's half sister, Lady Sarah, had tried to effect a reconciliation between her mother and
Richard, who was the fruit of the dowager's affair with Lord Powys. Both times Richard had refused to visit
the ailing woman. His obduracy puzzled Emily as much as it appalled her, for he was not a spiteful man.
Although his half brother, the present Duke of Newsham, had done Richard great harm, Richard had taken
no steps to avenge himself, even when an opportunity presented. Why he should rebuff the dowager so
coldly, when he treated the duke with forebearance, Emily could not imagine.
    Emily had thought her grace charming, and she knew the duchess felt some interest in Richard's
well being and considerable concern for her grandchildren. After Harry's christening three years earlier,
Emily had writ her unacknowledged mother-in-law a note describing the child, who was named for her
own father. She sent it off without considering Richard's reaction. When she told him what she had done he
was furious.
    "Don't you see how your letter could be construed?" he'd demanded.
    Emily began to lose her temper. "Enlighten me."
    "The duchess comes of a powerful family--the Tyrells, I mean, not the Ffoukes. Your little note
will look as if you are currying favour for your son."
    Emily gaped. "Your mind is poisoned."
    "That may be, but I've good reason to know how that order of society conducts itself to
importunate outsiders. Harry does not need the duchess's patronage."
    "I see." She drew a breath. "If that's how you feel, I'm sorry, Richard. I meant no such
thing."
    "I know you didn't," he said gruffly.
    They did not discuss the matter again, but though Emily could see a certain warped logic in his
viewpoint, she was unconvinced. The Dowager Duchess of Newsham, however exalted her rank, had a
grandparent's interest in grandchildren. Emily's own father doated on his grandchildren, including his infant
namesake, and she did not see why the dowager should be immune to the universal fascination with the
future.
    Now sitting at her dressing table, Emily brooded over the puzzle of unmotherly mothers and
unfilial sons. When the chill in the air penetrated her thick robe, she added a reckless shovel of seacoal to
the fire instead of climbing into bed. She had no intention of retiring until Richard chose to explain the
letter.
    She fetched a volume of poetry from her nightstand and composed herself to read, but the words
floated on the page and the candle flame flickered in the draughts. Finally, when she had reread Mr.
Coleridge's apostrophe to Mont Blanc for the fifth time she heard her husband's footsteps in the hail.
    She turned as he entered. "What is it, Richard?"
    "Another summons."
    "Then she's alive." Relief surged through her.
    "Yes. Or was when Sarah writ."
    "I'm glad."
    "Will you advise me? I don't know what's right." He made a clumsy gesture.
    She turned back to the mirror, puzzled, trying to think what she might say. She toyed with her
brush. "Right in general or right for you, Richard?"
    "I don't know." He drew a ragged breath.