Page 10 of A Widow for the Beastly Duke

Indeed, it felt as if he was wearing a mask, much the same as she was. And Emma did not quite know what to think about that.

“Emma? Have you heard a word I’ve said at all?” Annabelle’s voice pulled her out of her reverie.

Emma blinked hard and fast, realizing she’d completely retreated into her head.

Why did she keep thinking about that grouchy and insufferable man?

“Forgive me,” she said quickly, making sure to hide her thoughts behind her sociable mask.

She had yet to tell her friends about the incident with the Duke the night before, but she knew that if they caught wind of it, they would not leave her be until she divulged all. And she was not prepared to do that here, within earshot of whoever could be lurking.

“I was… distracted.”

At that, both Annabelle’s and Joanna’s eyebrows rose high on their foreheads, concern etching lines on their faces almost at once.

“Is everything quite all right?” Joanna asked, her voice soft. “Is it Lady Harwick? You should not let that miserable harpy ruin your happiness, Emma. You are doing good things for many of the women in the countryside, you know.”

Her aunt never failed to uplift her with such kind words, but Emma couldn’t let her keep on thinking that Lady Harwick was the reason for her distraction. Not only because it was not true but also because she really did not want her aunt and friend thinking that that woman’s pettiness even managed to make a dent in her self-esteem. Because that was simply not true either.

Emma opened her mouth to say something—even she did not quite know what exactly—when a voice sliced through their conversation like a knife.

“My dear Lady Cuthbert, you grow more stunning by the day.”

Emma’s body tensed up even before she turned around, instinctively recognizing the voice before her mind caught up.

And there stood Sidney Bickford, her late husband’s brother and the regent currently serving as the Earl of Cuthbert, dressed in a dark green coat that cloaked his frail, potbellied figure. His smile, which many found charming and polite, always struck Emma as a bit predatory—a wolf’s grin just before it pounced.

“My Lord,” she greeted, the title a bitter reminder that this man temporarily held her son’s birthright. “What a surprise to see you out in the countryside. I thought your business kept you firmly rooted in London.”

The slimy man’s smile did not falter. “Even the most dedicated businessman needs a breath of fresh air now and then. Besides, I have recently taken on some local interests that require my attention.” His lecherous gaze roamed over her figure subtly. “Among other… attractions.”

Beside her, Emma could feel Annabelle bristle, even if she didn’t see it. Joanna’s greeting was just as icy, a slight nod of her head that spoke volumes about what she thought of the current acting Earl of Cuthbert.

It was a great smear on her reputation as the Dowager Countess that she had to concede the running of the estate to this man, even though he was her husband’s brother and, by law, had the right to do so in trust for her son, who was the true heir to the earldom.

And that was simply because Sidney was nothing but a self-serving dandy who cared for nothing more than climbing the social ladder and spending her son’s wealth.

Many of the ton smiled and laughed with him, but she was certain he was not aware of the way they gossiped about him behind his back, even going so far as insinuating that he was a smear on the House of Cuthbert and, by extension,herreputation.

“How delightful for us all,” Annabelle said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I am sure Lady Pembrooke is thrilled to have you at her little gathering.”

He barely glanced her way. “Lady Cuthbert, may I have a word in private? We need to discuss some matters regarding young Tristan.”

Emma felt a chill creep into her stomach at the sound of her son’s name on his lips.

Before she could respond, Annabelle smoothly cut in, “I’m afraid we’ve just promised to join Mrs. Halloway for tea. Perhaps another time would be better?”

His expression turned steely then, though his smile stayed plastered on his face. His eyes, reminiscent of the cold, distant brown of his late brother’s, locked onto Emma with an intensity that made her skin crawl.

“I insist,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Unless you want to cause a scene, my dear sister-in-law? I’m sure Lady Pembrooke wouldn’t appreciate her carefully planned afternoon being disrupted by such… unpleasantness. From a widow, no less.”

Emma recognized the threat for what it was. With a resigned sigh, she turned to her friends.

“Please send my apologies to Mrs. Halloway. I’ll join you shortly,” she said.

Annabelle opened her mouth to protest, but Emma silenced her with a look that promised an explanation later.

With visible reluctance, Annabelle and Joanna moved away, both casting worried glances back at her.

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