Page 7 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

“We are not running alittlelate,” Edwin reminded her. “I don’t care about these things, but I promised Robert I would be there, and I don’t make idle promises.”

“He shall understand completely when you tell him why we are late,” Elizabeth said. “I truly thought Mother was dying this evening. She was only out in the sun fifteen minutes longer than usual but was convinced she would collapse from heat stroke. That poor physician. We should not have troubled him!”

“Then Mother would have continued her lunacy for the rest of the night,” Edwin commented.

Modesty Clarke was his stepmother, but she had wed his father when he was young and was like a mother to him. She was fond of being very dramatic and was often melodramatic.

Elizabeth giggled as she remembered how her mother had acted only a few hours ago. Edwin might have cracked a smile if he were in a better mood.

“Being late does have its advantages,” she stated. “Shealways sours my mood. The less time I must spend with her, the better.”

“Elizabeth,” Edwin warned, “you will debut this Season, and you are turning into a fine young woman. Talking ill of others is not befitting of you.”

“And there are a number of things that are not befitting of Miss Jennings,” Elizabeth shot back.

Edwin was too exhausted or exasperated to talk her through the finer points of how to act when in London Society, and he knew his sister understood everything. She always acted well in public and spoke her mind in private, but sometimes that threatened to spill over.

“Miss Jennings will soon be your sister-in-law, so you had better learn to like her,” Edwin urged.

“I shall have to if you are to marry her. I still don’t understand why you must wed her, Your Grace.”

Edwin relaxed a little at her use of his title. She had been born when he was twelve, and he had always been very close to her and protective of her. She called him Edwin in private, and if she was using his title, then she had taken his words to heart and would be on her best behavior.

“There are many reasons to wed, and we make a good match. You forget that I am the Duke now, and I don’t have the luxury of time. I will marry Miss Jennings, and you will find a man of your own. Then, you shall only have to worry about your life.”

There are many reasons to wed, and in certain situations, love does not enter the equation.

The coach stopped outside Pemberton Manor, and Edwin felt some relief. He knew Robert would not make a big deal of it, nor would he be bothered that Edwin was late, but it was the principle of the matter. After the day he’d had, Edwin only wished for a pleasant, quick evening before he retired to bed.

They entered the great hall, and he quickly looked around for Robert.

“Come, I think I see him,” he said.

He moved past an older gentleman descending the stairs and was about to turn and walk toward his friend when he saw a young woman staring at him as if she knew him.

The look in her eyes soon turned to one of lust, and Edwin found it quite amusing. He thought of the fun he might have with her in different circumstances.

She was gorgeous enough, tall with curves in the right places. The stories his hands would tell as they wandered over her clothed body—her pale pink dress embraced her as much as he wished to at that moment. His eyes explored her curves, ravenous. He appreciated the small dimples in her cheeks and the richness of her brown eyes.

I want this as much as you do, but you have arrived too late in my life.

But he did not have time to dwell on the woman and quickly departed in search of his friend.

“Ah, there you are, Your Grace,” Robert said when the Duke had finally caught up with him.

Edwin would rather Robert call him Edwin than use his title, but it was a small peeve.

“Lord Pemberton, I apologize for our tardiness. I will not bore you with the reasons for it. Look at this place! It is spectacular, old chap. You have outdone yourself once again. And the drinks are flowing. Are we to be blessed with…?”

Robert chuckled. “My stash is becoming depleted, and I shall not waste it on anybody. If you are still here later, I shall drink some with you—you are a man who appreciates the finer things.”

“Oh, are my ears burning?” Agnes asked, arriving to complete the foursome. “You mentioned the finer things?”

Edwin had hoped he would have a little time to himself before he moved on to his next obligation, but luck was not on his side tonight.

“Miss Jennings, you look lovely as always,” he said.

“Oh, you are too kind, Your Grace. And you look very dashing yourself. I appreciate the effort you put in when we are to be seen together in public.”

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