“Well, if they have nothing in common,” Emma considered, “that would suggest that His Grace has no sense of duty and doesn’t believe in rules. I cannot say those are very good traits to have, either. What is said of him must be true: he is a rake and a ruiner and we are all better off leaving him alone.”
Her friends groaned at her, and even Emma herself questioned why she was being so unkind about him. Yes, she had seen him alone with a young lady, but she was being very quick to pass judgment on him, and that was not something she ever did.
“Perhaps I have him sized up too quickly,” she confessed. “Though I am firm in my saying that I have no interest in the man. I will, however, be civil with him, especially if his father was as you claim.”
Suddenly, her father called her. He was a short distance away, and so she gave a quick nod to her friends before leaving to see him.
“Father,” she said carefully, “please do not shout for me as if I were household staff. You are more than welcome to come to me when I am with friends.”
“I am very much aware of that. I simply do not like to spend much time around those girls. They are not good influences on you.”
“Dorothy and Beatrice are,” she argued.
It was true that, as far as a parent might be concerned, Cecilia might have been improper and unladylike, but there was nothing terrible that could be said about the other two. They were perfect ladies, prim and proper (when in society, at least) and the very picture of what Emma’s father had expected of her.
“Then I shall single out that dreadful Miss Penton, although you never like it when I do.”
“She is kind to me. I– My apologies, Father. I understand. What can I do for you?”
“Your sister wishes to take a walk on the grounds with Lord Rosendale and requires a chaperone.”
“I see. Can you not accompany her?”
“Is it not your responsibility as her sister?” he reminded her.
“Yes, but I thought you did not want me spoiling the match.”
“I do not, and you will not. However, you know as well as I do that I cannot bear doing all of this chaperoning and watching and keeping guard. That is why you do it.”
“Very well. Where are they?”
Her father pointed in a vague direction and after a truly appalling amount of searching Emma found them. Sarah was smiling, very brightly at that, and Emma’s heart leaped. The Baron was not perfect, but if he made Sarah happy then that was all that truly mattered. That was all that she had ever wanted for her. She waved to her friends, then left for the couple. Sarah was ecstatic to see her, and seemed about to introduce Emma and the Baron to one another before remembering that they had already met.
“I hardly saw you last night, Emma,” she smiled. “You were not with your friends either. Were you alright?”
“Perfectly so, yes. I was simply meeting the other guests. Now, I shall be chaperoning the two of you, so we may leave when you wish.”
The couple shared a smile before Sarah took the Baron’s arm and walked slightly ahead. Emma followed behind, shamelessly listening in on their conversation. She learned that Lord Rosendale was four-and-twenty years of age, the eldest of seven children, and passionate about science. Emma found it quite boring when he began telling Sarah about what he had been reading, but Sarah was enthralled, asking him all sortsof questions. It made all of the listening and attempting to understand worth it at least, Emma thought.
A second set of footsteps fell into rhythm alongside her. She wondered if one of her friends had come to join her, but as she turned to her left she saw none other than the Duke of Lupton, already smiling down at her.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“How nice to see you, too,” he replied. “You see, Miss Kendall, I thought it might be best if I came on this walk with you, so that you could watch me more easily.”
“I do not want to watch you.”
“Yes, you do. You said so yourself.”
Emma remembered what she had said the night before and groaned.
“You do not find it easy to express gratitude, I see,” he nodded.
“I do when it is warranted. I am not at all thankful that you have ambushed me like this.”
“An ambush? I thought this was a pleasant walk in the gardens.”
“It was, until a moment ago.”