Page 37 of A Duke Reformed
"Emma, you cannot confront him," Cecilia said. "Papa would be furious."
"We don't have any choice. I will confront him," she said. "I will tell him off, I don't care about the consequences."
Cecilia searched her face, then slowly, a small, relieved smile played at her lips. "Well," she murmured, "Then I almost feel sorry for Lord Pearlton."
Emma scoffed, rising to her feet. "Come. That reminds me. We need to visit the modiste for you. We have enough to buy you a new dress for the next ball."
Before Cecilia could respond, a sharp knock at the door interrupted them. Mr. Harris stepped inside, holding an envelope.
"A letter for you, Miss Lockhart," he announced, extending it toward her.
Emma took the letter, already certain of who it was from. It was only Solomon that wrote her letters these days to schedule meetings for their lessons. She opened the letter, and as she expected, Solomon had asked the same question, stating that he did not have any important engagements for the next two days.
Perhaps it was best to stop the lessons for a while.
Emma told herself this as she folded the letter, pressing her fingers over the crease as if that would suppress the flicker of hesitation within her. She didn't want to stop, but it was necessary. As much as she needed the money, she needed to bethere for Cecilia more. Family had always been the priority. It had been that way for as long as she could remember, and it would remain that way now.
So, she figured that for the next few weeks... or at least until Lord Pearlton had disappeared from Cecilia's side, she would stay close to her sister. She would ensure that he understood, in no uncertain terms, that Cecilia was not his to claim. Until that happened, she wanted to give Cecilia her undivided attention.
"What is it?" Cecilia asked, noting the look on Emma's face. "Is it bad news?"
"No," she answered. "It's His Grace. I was thinking of pausing the lessons for a moment. Just until we sort of this... Lord Pearlton situation."
Cecilia exhaled. "You think that's best?"
"Yes," she answered quietly. "I should write back to him stating so."
"I'll go get you some paper and ink," Cecilia said, rising from her seat.
Emma forced a smile. She suddenly felt torn. She was torn...reluctant. She had grown accustomed to the lessons, to their bantering, and the way Solomon always questioned everything. She had enjoyed them more than she cared to admit.
But this wasn't about her.
So, she straightened her shoulders, forcing the thought away.
"You're putting a pause on our lessons?"
A shadow had falling over them underneath the oak tree where Emma was having a nice picnic with her family before she heard the strange voice. But she had not had time to react before the shadow spoke.
The deep, familiar voice sends a shiver down Emma's spine before she even looked up. Solomon stood before her, his presence as commanding as always.
Earlier that afternoon, Emma and her younger siblings had decided to have a small picnic in the park. They had stationed underneath an oak tree, with a fine blanket spread over the soft grass while a wicker basket filled with light refreshments sat between them. Lady Agatha, their chaperone sat with a book in her hands, seemingly so engrossed in it that she too had not noticed the duke.
"Your Grace," Emma breathed, rising to her feet. Her siblings scurried to their feet too, bowing and politely curtsying. He only spared them a glance before concentrating his attention back on Emma.
"What do you mean you're pausing the lessons?" he asked again and crossed his arms. "What did we just talk about the other day about priorities and... reason. Was that all bull?"
Emma clenched her jaw and scanned the park for any prying eyes. "Lady Agatha," she said, turning to the chaperone with as much poise as she could muster, "I shall take a short walk with His Grace. We won't go far."
Lady Agatha rose to her feet to greet Solomon. She glanced between Solomon and Emma before nodding stiffly. "Very well, but do not stray too far from sight, Emma."
Emma wasted no time. She turned to Solomon and tilted her head toward the pathway winding through the park. "Come with me," she said, her voice quieter now, though there was no mistaking the urgency in it.
Solomon exhaled sharply but followed her without hesitation, his long strides easily matching her pace as they moved away from the picnic. The moment they were far enough from prying ears, she turned to him, her fingers tightening around the folds of her dress.
"I apologize, Your Grace," she said to him as they began to slow their stride. "I know the letter was abrupt, but it is what I had to decide."
Solomon's gaze darkened. "And why is that?"
