Page 17 of Look at Her Duke
She thinks ye’re betrothed to Emma, and ye’ve really done nothing to disabuse her of that. Especially the way she saw ye follow Emma like a dog with yer tail between yer legs.
He’d thought it best to leave Amelia to her chickening alone, but now he wondered if he ought to have gone with her to the gardens, to have the conversation he so desperately wanted to have.
Across from him, Emma was clearly disgruntled by not being the center of attention. She frumped, she frowned, she sighed deeply…but she didn’t interrupt.
He should’ve known she was just waiting for an opening. After a particularly funny story Mother told about Lady Stalling’s attempts to sneak into the stables to win a dare by painting a horse red, the laughter had died down and Emma clearly decided it was her time to strike.
“Lady Amelia, are you not hungry?” Her tone was overly sweet, too solicitous. “I notice you are not enjoying thisscrumptiousmeal. I hope you are not ill?”
Amelia’s head jerked upward, but she seemed confused, surprised at being addressed. What had been occupying her mind?
Before she could decide how to respond—thank goodness—Olivia answered. “My sister-in-law doesn’t eat meat, Lady Emma. Unfortunately this dish can’t really be altered much to suit her tastes.”
“Does not eatmeat?” Emma sniffed, still staring down her nose at Amelia. “Howfreakish. And such a headache for the rest of you, I am certain.”
As Amelia blinked in surprise, Alistair began to frown, and the others at the table stifled their gasps at the insult. Again, Olivia responded, her tone sharper. “Amelia’s preferences cause no headaches for us. Our cook is supremely talented with cheese and eggs and all sorts of non-meat options. This is her home, after all. We often partake in such fare ourselves.”
It was clear Emma understood when she was being put down, because she offered the hostess a weak smile. “How…delightful.”
“Emma,” murmured her mother, but Emma merely waved away the warning and pierced Amelia with another glare, another too-sweet smile.
“I am surprised, Lady Amelia, that you are not choosing to partake inthisparticular dish, even so.”
Kip watched Amelia swallow. “Oh?”
He wanted to reach for her. To protect her. To block her from Emma’s snide tongue.
“Indeed. While we werewaitingfor you to join us in the parlor—so strange that you were not on hand to greet guests, I thought—I overheard the servants chatting about tonight’s dinner. Apparently the chicken was one the cook caught in her own garden! I assumed, with your interest in animals, you would find that fascinating.”
Amelia had gone suddenly, alarmingly pale. “The garden?” she croaked. “Our garden? Out back?”
Emma tapped a perfect fingernail against the white linen tablecloth. She was trying for thoughtful nonchalance, but her sharp gaze belied the effect. “Yes…yes, I believe that is what they said.”
“Excuse me,” Amelia announced abruptly, shoving her chair away from the table and standing. “I must check…Charles was… Excuse me,” she repeated, as she stumbled away from the table.
Was Kip the only one who’d seen the tears in her eyes? He wanted to call out to her, to tell her this meal had been cooking since long before she’d even deposited Becky in the garden, but he had no idea how long the other chicken had been outside…or not.
As Amelia fled, her sister made to stand, but caught her mother’s eye and slowly sank back down. The responses were mixed; Mother and Lady Stallings hummed in concern, Olivia grabbed Alistair’s hand, and Emma…
Emma smiled a wicked, cruel sort of smile and sat back in her chair, as if pleased with herself.
And Kip finally understood what needed to happen.
Tossing down his napkin, he stood. “Lady Emma,” he began, “I ken our mothers once hoped for a match between us. But ye have proven yerself to be a cruel, spiteful bitch, and although ye’ve hurt a beautiful soul, I have to thank ye for doing it in front of our families. Now they’ll understand my reasons when I tell ye I would never marry a woman like ye.”
Emma had sucked in an offended breath and now watched him, wide-eyed. “Why, I—Howdareyou, sir!”
“That’sYer Graceto ye, Lady Emma.” Kip planted his fists on the table and leaned closer. “And Idare, because Lady Amelia is kind, gentle, passionate about her interests, and wholly without subterfuge. She doesnae deserve the kind of maliciousness ye’ve heaped upon her.”
Emma folded her hands in her lap and sniffed haughtily. “Well, after the way you were cozying up with her atmyball, it suddenly makes sense why you would defend her in such a way,Your Grace.You might think it fine to dally with an Earl’s daughter, but surely even a savage Scot like yourself understands there are consequences from ruining a Duke’s sister?”
There were more gasps around the table, and Emma’s father, the Earl of Stallings, blustered, “I say, gel, shut your mouth.”
Kip’s eyes narrowed. “If ye’re implying I’veruinedAmelia in any way—”
“It is obvious, is it not?”
Abruptly, he straightened, his mind made up. “I’ve no’ dallied with ye, Lady Emma, any more than was required of me to satisfy my mother.” He turned to the two ladies. “I will no’ be offering for Emma, Lady Stallings. I ken my mother values yer friendship, so I’ll no’ tell ye what I think of the way ye’ve spoiled yer youngest daughter.” His gaze swept the table. “I’ll no’ spread any stories about her hateful tongue, but I make nae promises of others here tonight.”
