Page 58 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
Cal grinned. “My wife prefers it when I tell her how naughty she’s been.”
Vaughan winced. That was something he hadn’t needed to know about the academically inclined Mrs. Marianne Johnson.
“Spare me,” he muttered.
“Seriously, I can’t believe you’re married.” Cal seemed far too thrilled by the fact. “Do you think Marianne would like her?”
“Possibly,” Vaughan said. “She likes to read.”
“Huh. What else does she like?”
“Erm.” He clapped his mouth shut, afraid of looking a fool when he realized he didn’t know much about Emma at all. That was how he’d intended it, of course, but it did make him appear to be a bit of an ass. “Food.”
Cal gave him a slow clap. “She likes food. How shocking. That renders her not at all like other humans, who generally need food to exist.”
“Not everyone actively enjoys food,” Vaughan said defensively. “Some people merely eat for sustenance.” As seemed to be the case with most women of his acquaintance. Although perhaps they behaved differently when he wasn’t around. Who knew?
Cal checked his watch. “I have to meet with one of the tenants now, but I hope you’ll introduce me to your duchess soon.”
“I will.” After all, Cal would probably end up spending more time around her than Vaughan would.
Cal saluted, then got back on his horse and waved before taking off over the grass in the direction of the nearest tenant farm.
Vaughan handed his reins to a stable boy and headed inside. He was surprised to hear voices in one of the drawing rooms and paused in the doorway, wondering whether they had guests.
He pushed the door open slightly and peered in. His jaw dropped at the sight of Emma seated on the chaise with a basket on her lap while Mrs. Travers folded small blankets into several other baskets spread across the floor. They were a mismatched bunch, clearly collected from wherever they could be found.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked, stepping inside.
Emma looked up and her eyes widened, her gaze sweeping down his body. It occurred to him that she’d never seen him in riding gear before.
“Her Grace had the brilliant idea of creating gift baskets for the tenants,” Mrs. Travers said as she stood to greet him, apparently pleased as punch.
“I thought I could introduce myself to them this afternoon,” Emma said quietly. “To delay might be seen as impolite.”
His chest tightened. He should have thought of that. It hadn’t occurred to him that his new wife would want to meet the tenants. Perhaps if she’d been the society jewel he’d intended tomarry, his assumption would have been correct, but Emma had more depth than that.
“Good thinking,” he said. “What are you taking?”
He’d better check it wasn’t useless fripperies, although surely Mrs. Travers would have guided her in a different direction if that had been the case.
Emma rubbed her lips together and glanced at the housekeeper nervously. “We have an assortment of tea and sweet treats as well as blankets, and toys for the children that we found in the old nursery. I hope that’s all right.”
“Of course.” He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. They could always buy new toys for their own children.
“Will you come with me?” She looked down at the basket on her lap, avoiding eye contact.
He cursed internally. The last thing he needed was to be stuck in close proximity to her now that he knew exactly how delicious she tasted, but he couldn’t in good conscience deny her.
“When do you intend to leave?”
“Perhaps in half an hour?” she suggested.
“I’ll meet you at the entrance then.” He’d need to organize transportation. They’d need a curricle for the baskets and possibly themselves as well, since he didn’t know whether she was an accomplished rider. He got the impression she liked horses, but that didn’t always equate to being a skilled horsewoman.
“Will we have time to get to them all today?” she called after him.
“If we make haste,” he replied.
