Page 13 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
“I hope you won’t be too bored.” Emma enjoyed poetry, so she’d be happy at a poetry reading, but Violet usually preferred parties and balls.
“Nonsense.” Violet touched one of her curls, which was perfectly positioned, as always. “I’m expanding my horizons. Who knows what manner of gentlemen may attend a poetry reading whom I might not otherwise meet?”
“I guess we shall find out.” Emma knew at least one of the gentlemen who’d be attending. Mr. Mayhew was the respectable second son of a viscount, with a fondness for poems by Lord Byron.
She had met him at the opera, but they’d only been able to speak for a few moments. She hoped she’d be able to get more time with him today. He was exactly the type of man she could imagine herself falling for, and quieter events such as the one today provided more of an opportunity for her to shine.
Hopefully he liked what he saw.
“Is that another new dress?” Violet asked as they walked down the corridor together and into the foyer inside the entrance of Carlisle House. Violet’s maid was waiting, and she bobbed a swift curtsey as they arrived.
Emma ran her hand over the supple pink fabric. “It is.”
Violet studied her critically. “It isn’t terrible, although it could be cut a little lower and fitted more tightly.”
“I like it as it is.” Emma didn’t intend to attract a husband with her body. She knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she was also no great beauty. Besides, she’d prefer to find a man who saw beyond appearances.
“Suit yourself.”
The main doors opened, revealing the carriage waiting outside. The sisters walked down the stairs together and accepted the footman’s help inside. Violet sat looking forward, as she always did, while Emma’s back was to the coachman. Violet’s maid sat beside her.
“What is your plan to beguile Mr. Mayhew?” Violet asked, placing her hands neatly on her lap.
The carriage bumped over a rough section of road, jolting them all.
“I’ll talk to him and find out whether I feel a connection,” Emma said. “I already know he’s handsome, but attraction isn’t everything. I want to know whether it goes deeper. I want to come alight when I’m near him. To feel everything.”
Violet sighed. “That does sound lovely.” Her tone was surprisingly wistful. “Do you think a reaction like that is instantaneous, or can it grow over time?”
“I don’t know.” Emma glanced out the window, watching the street roll out behind them.
“I hope it can grow.” Violet spoke so softly that Emma almost didn’t hear her.
When they arrived at the townhouse owned by Lord Mayhew—Mr. Mayhew’s father—the reading was almost about to start. They hurried up the stone stairs, and the butler showed them around the corner and into the largest drawing room.
Lord and Lady Mayhew stood just inside the door.
“Welcome,” Lady Mayhew said, a smile sweeping across her pretty face. “You’re just in time.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Emma said. “We’re looking forward to the reading.”
Lord Mayhew harrumphed. “You’d be one of the few.”
“Shush, Nigel,” Lady Mayhew chided him. “Please take your seats, ladies.”
The array of chairs was about half full. The front row appeared to be reserved for those involved in the reading. Unmarried misses filled the second row. No doubt they’d had the same idea as Emma. She and Violet claimed a pair of seats in the third row on the nearest side of the room while the maid stood near the wall.
Mr. Mayhew turned in his chair and smiled at Emma, his warm brown eyes twinkling—in pleasure at the thought of her company? She hoped so. His gaze traveled to Violet, and one of his eyebrows rose. Emma’s answering expression contained more than a hint of amusement. She was as surprised by her sister’s presence as he was.
Mr. Mayhew rose. “Welcome, all. Thank you for coming to our poetry reading. Today, we have a selection for you from Lord Byron. I will begin and then introduce you to our next speaker.”
Without further ado, he broke into a recital of “She Walks in Beauty,” one of Lord Byron’s most iconic poems. His voice was rich and dripped with emotion.
Emma leaned forward, enthralled. He spoke with such passion, and she could imagine him bringing that same passionto his marriage. If he loved a woman, he would love her with his whole heart. She was certain of it.
And oh, she so badly wanted to be that woman. What would it be like to be the subject of such devotion?
To her left, the door clicked open and gently closed again. Emma didn’t look around to see who had arrived late, too preoccupied with the gentleman pouring his heart out for them all to see.
