Page 43 of Her Wolf of a Duke

“Here,” Cecilia said, handing her a glass that smelled stronger than lemonade. “It shall make the evening easier.”

“What is it?”

“It is better if you do not know. Drink it quickly before anyone sees.”

She drank it in one, the liquid burning her throat. She whimpered slightly, returning the glass to her friend.

“Cecilia, what was that?”

“A lemonade… mixed with brandy. You seem uneasy, and I thought it might steady your nerves.”

As the burning subsided, Emma had to admit that it left quite a pleasant taste on her tongue. Her friend seemed to notice that change, and disappeared for a moment before bringing her another, which she gratefully drank.

“How are you managing to make these?”

“We spinsters are never noticed. It is a blessing. Besides, my reputation is set in stone by now. I do not believe I could lower it any further if I tried, which of course I promise not to.”

Emma laughed, enjoying the new taste. It had certainly helped to settle her, which was fortunate because at that moment she saw Sarah dancing with Lord Rosendale, an irate Lord Frenton nearby. She handed Cecilia the glass, and her friend mumbled something about fetching her a stronger one before Emma left to speak with him.

“Good evening, my lord,” she said gently. “Is everything alright?”

“That sister of yours is aware that we have a deal. We are to be married!”

“I understand, my lord. Did she not tell you that she planned to dance with him?”

“Of course not. Had she done so, I would have forbidden it. Rather, I would have told your father to. He told me she is a docile young lady, one that does not cause mischief, yet there she is practically wreaking havoc!”

“It is only a dance, my lord,” she replied gently, but she couldn’t help but understand his frustration.

This must have been what Sarah had planned, Emma thought, and why she was so looking forward to the evening. She would be able to have a final dance with the man she was falling for, and then perhaps the life that followed would not hurt so badly.

“I have half a mind to march over there and drag her back,” he thundered.

“You shall do no such thing,” a deep voice came.

Emma was relieved, in spite of herself, at her rescuer. The Duke of Lupton had clearly seen what was happening, as he hadn’t stopped watching her, and had brought himself into a situation that did not concern him. Instead of being angry withhim, however, she was only grateful.He had come to her aid at the right time, and though she had wanted to fix the situation herself, she could not scoff at his help, not when it was selfless.

“Your Grace,” the Viscount argued, “you must understand that Miss Sarah is to be my wife. She must obey me.”

“Oh, did I miss the ceremony? Has she said her vows, and promised you to obey you until death do you part yet? I must admit, it hurts to know that you did not think to invite me to your nuptials.”

Emma watched as the Viscount scrambled to find something to say. The dance ended and Emma looked over at her sister, who was looking back at her with a fearful expression. She understood completely, but to end the matter she needed Sarah to join her. She summoned her, and though she seemed to not wish to do so, she came toward them.

“Lord Frenton,” Emma said brightly, “my sister has returned. Perhaps the two of you may now share a dance?”

“I should have all of her dances, given the circumstances.”

Lord Rosendale, smiling politely, took Sarah’s left hand in his, as if mocking the Viscount. She was not wearing an engagement ring—the Viscount hadn’t troubled himself with that detail—and the Baron looked pointedly at it for a moment before making a theatrical gasp.

“My word, her engagement ring is so small that I cannot even see it! Are you certain that you can take care of her, given… your straitened circumstances?”

“Young man, you ought to learn your place. As a baron, you are not half the man I am, and you do not understand the first thing about having a high rank in society.”

“I am half your age, but twice the man. Let us not forget who is forcing whose hand in all of this.”

“Gentlemen,” the Duke of Lupton said firmly, “I understand that tensions are high, but this is no way to behave. If it is rank you care so much for, Frenton, then you might heed my warning as a duke. This is unacceptable, and I will not have any young lady forced to do something against her will when I am here. Miss Sarah, do you wish to dance with this Baron?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Sarah replied softly.

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