Page 30 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
“Then why do I feel guilty?” Longley asked.
Vaughan left his brandy sitting there while Longley sipped his. Perhaps he’d drink it later, but for now, he didn’t intend to risk overimbibing and inviting even more gossip.
“Maybe because you’re an idiot,” Vaughan said.
Longley laughed. “Just like that, I’m no longer sympathetic for you.”
Vaughan watched a trail of melted wax work its way down the side of a tapered candle in the center of their table.
“You have no reason to feel guilty,” he said, growing serious. “I chose to court Violet, I chose to propose to her, and I’m the one who didn’t pay any attention to the warning signs.”
He could have taken issue with Violet flirting with Mayhew at the poetry reading, raised the subject with her, and potentially avoided this entire debacle. If she’d said she had feelings for the other man, he would never have asked her to marry him. Love was too damn chaotic.
“I hope this won’t put you off taking a wife altogether.” Longley raised his glass to his lips.
The liquid wax dripped onto the candle holder.
“If I could possibly avoid repeating my performance on the marriage mart, I would, but I can’t allow Reginald to inherit, and I’m already here. I have the wardrobe, and I’ve been introduced to many prospective brides. It makes sense to resume the search.”
Longley hummed in the back of his throat. “They will call you cold for doing so soon after Violet’s betrayal.”
“Damn the girl.” She’d made everything so much more difficult. “Females are fickle.”
“At least you didn’t find out about her attachment after you were married.” Longley waved for the servant to refill his glass.
“I might have preferred that,” Vaughan mused. “At least I could have gotten my heir.”
Beyond that, he had no emotional connection to Violet. He wouldn’t have cared if she had affairs as long as she was discreet.
“You’ll find another bride,” Longley said.
Dread pooled in Vaughan’s midsection. Perhaps he would, but the last thing he wanted to do was put himself out there again, especially when everyone would know he’d been jilted.
How utterly humiliating.
“Hurry up, Emma,”Lady Carlisle barked, hustling her daughter toward the front door.
Emma slunk along, her shoulders down, silently praying that the carriage would break down before they left and she wouldn’t have to go anywhere.
They were going to be slaughtered.
“Are you sure we should go?” she asked.
She’d protested when Lady Carlisle had announced her plan to attend the opera. By now, news of Violet’s elopement would surely have spread, and everyone would be gossiping about them.
“Yes,” Lady Carlisle said. “We need to see firsthand how much damage Violet’s selfish actions have caused.”
She arched her fair eyebrows as if daring Emma to disagree. Emma kept her mouth shut. Her parents had made it clear they thought Emma was to partly to blame for Violet’s behavior, so she was walking on eggshells so as not to make it worse. They already weren’t allowing her to receive callers. Lord knew what Mr. Adair thought of her after having been turned away twice.
Her father was waiting by the carriage, which, unfortunately, was in perfect working order. He took her mother’s hand and assisted her into the carriage, and then did the same for Emma.
“We will all be on our best behavior tonight,” he said as he climbed in and pulled the door shut. “If anyone mentions Violet, we will not react. We’ll take the higher ground. Understood?”
“Yes, Father,” Emma murmured, wondering what else he expected her to do. She never caused a fuss at public events. She didn’t even like being the center of attention—although having some attention was nice.
The carriage jostled into motion, and Emma looked out the window, noting Sophie’s silhouette in an upstairs window. She’d been subdued the last few days as well.
During the ride, Lord and Lady Carlisle conversed in low voices, and Emma didn’t try to participate. Instead, she dreamed of seeing Mr. Adair tonight. Would he like her dress? It wasn’t a new one, but she thought the rosy shade of pink suited her well. More importantly, would he forgive her for being unavailable when he’d come calling?
