Page 15 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
“I suppose there’s that,” Mayhew agreed.
Vaughan’s gaze was still locked on Violet and the younger Mr. Mayhew, and he reminded himself that he didn’t have any feelings for Violet, nor had he an official claim on her.
He didn’t intend to develop romantic feelings for her, now or ever. Watching his mother cuckold his father time after time had put him off the concept of love. Seeing her flutter her eyelashes at another man stung, though.
This is exactly why you’re choosing a convenient bride. If she isn’t attached to you, so much the better, as long as you aren’t attached to her either.
A flurry of movement caught Vaughan’s attention. Lady Emma Carlisle had come to an abrupt stop halfway across the room. She raised her hand to her mouth, focused on Violet and Mr. Mayhew. She seemed to freeze for a long moment, and then she spun around and rushed out of the room.
“I wonder what that was about,” Mayhew said.
Vaughan had a suspicion he knew. Emma was probably interested in Mr. Mayhew for herself.
Mayhew cleared his throat. “I’d better circulate, or my wife will tell me I’m not doing my duties. Good to see you, Ashford.”
“You as well.” Vaughan nodded respectfully and lingered in place while Mayhew moved on.
Minutes passed, and Emma hadn’t returned. Vaughan noticed Violet’s maid, who must have accompanied them, standing by the side wall, deep in conversation with another maid. She seemed oblivious to her charge’s absence.
Before he’d fully thought out his actions, he found himself following Emma out of the room. The corridor was empty, but a muffled noise came from Viscount Mayhew’s office. His feet carried him across, and he knocked gently on the door.
The noise abruptly cut off.
“Hello,” he murmured, unsure what on earth he was doing. One didn’t follow unmarried ladies into private rooms. He should turn and leave immediately. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not when he was so sure that Emma was in there, and she was upset.
“I’m coming in,” he said, just in case he’d read the situation wrong and was about to interrupt an illicit rendezvous.
He eased the door open and stepped in. The faint scent of cigar smoke greeted him. Lady Emma sat on a chair in thecorner, her shoulders slumped and her dark blue eyes gleaming with moisture. Her eyebrows—a shade somewhere between blonde and brown—scrunched together.
“Your Grace.” She sounded confused. “What are you doing here?”
A good question, and one he didn’t have an answer for.
He stood stiffly in the doorway, debating whether to come in properly and close the door, or if that was just asking for trouble.
“I came to check whether you are all right. You seemed distressed when you left.”
“Oh.” She sniffed and folded the handkerchief, tucking it into a pocket in the folds of her skirt. “That’s very considerate of you, but I am fine.”
He drew in a slow breath, wishing he knew how one was supposed to handle a situation such as this.
Delicately, he supposed.
“With all due respect, you don’t look fine.”
He winced. Probably not like that.
She scowled, the sadness in her eyes heating into something else. Something angrier. “Do you make a habit of telling young women that they don’t look well, my lord?” Her cheeks flushed, and she clapped her hand to her mouth. “My apologies. I don’t know what came over me.”
Vaughan stared at her, shocked into silence. If he’d believed Lady Emma to be mousy, he’d been wrong. She may be more reserved than her sister, but she was not timid.
“Don’t apologize. I phrased that poorly.” He glanced around the room, seeking a way to escape this conversation, but none presented itself. “What happened to unsettle you?”
“Nothing.” She stood, her purple skirts swishing around her ankles. “I won’t keep you.”
He didn’t move from the doorway, so there was nowhere for her to go. They stood at an impasse.
“Allow me to guess?” he said.
