Page 103 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke
She spoke in proclamations and exclamations. Emma smiled.
“I cannot think why we have not invited you to luncheon before, Lady Lydia. I plead ignorance of exactly who I must know in town after an upbringing in the country.”
“There is much to be said for a rural upbringing away from the noise and bustle of the city,” Sir Maxwell Percy pronounced, sipping sherry.
“Much indeed. Though I do so prefer the life of the city. So much to see and do, so many fascinating people. Do you not think so, Thomas?” Josie said, playing the part of co-host alongside her sister and brother-in-law, and playing it well.
Emma sipped tea, nodding agreement, and seeing that nod ripple through the room. There were many other people in earshot at this afternoon tea in Curzon Street, and all waited patiently to discover what it was they should be agreeing with. At the moment it was every word of the new Duchess of Redmane and her sister, newly engaged Josephine Montrose.
“I understand congratulations are in order Lady Josephine?” asked Lord Archibald Thwaite of Ripon.
He never wasted a sentence on a definite statement when a question could be used to verify the opinion of the person with whom he spoke.
“Yes, indeed, Sir Thomas Donovan,” Josie said, smiling sweetly.
“Congratulations?” Lord Archibald queried.
“Congratulations, indeed!” Lady Lydia proclaimed, “And when might we expect your other sister to make her rounds during the season and suitably marry.”
“She is already twenty years of age. But is tending to our father at Montrose Hall,” Emma smiled sadly, “he took ill recently.”
Emma glanced across the room where Damien stood in a circle of his own. They looked to him for their conversational guidance but he seemed hardly to be speaking. Sir Thomas stood next to him and bore the burden of carrying the conversation.
Whatever has gotten into him? It seems that everything we wanted has fallen into our laps. Society accepts us. The Regent considers us his friends. Charles has finally grown up after his duel and now actually seems fit to be the next Earl. The only people who should be withdrawn are Josie and myself.
Damien's eyes lifted from his sherry and met Emma's from across the room. She could see the sorrow in his stare, feel the tension between them, but did not understand its source.
“I must say that the Duke and yourself do make such a lovely couple. It is so refreshing to see a young married couple so perfectly happy,” someone was saying.
Emma broke away from Damien's eyes and forced a smile of agreement, though she did not trust her voice to speak said agreement.
“I hope to be half as happy,” Josie volunteered, “and my sister too when she has found the right gentleman.”
“Would you excuse me for just a moment, ladies and gentlemen? I believe my husband is trying to attract my attention,” Emma said, rising.
She crossed the room towards Damien. The circle around him parted for her. She held his gaze, willing him to see what was in her mind.
She had not been able to get him alone since yesterday when his mood had so suddenly shifted. Not since he returned from Silas Sutherland’s house with Josie. She would get to the bottom of this, but while her guests were still in attendance, she could not speak openly.
“I missed my husband and simply had to be near him,” she said with a sweet smile.
It attracted complimentary chirpings from all around them.
“Damien, would you be able to spare me a moment? Just a moment. There is a matter that we had both quite forgotten about,” Emma said.
“I shall hold the fort here, Your Grace,” Sir Thomas said helpfully.
“It would be rude to leave our guests, especially after such short notice with our invitations,” Damien replied, formally.
“I am sure they will understand. We are new to society and still learning the rules of the ton. Let us be daring and different,” Emma countered, taking his hand.
“There is daring and there is rude. We must remember our basic courtesy to our friends. Lord Dalrymple here has come a long way to join us. From Brighton, have you not, my lord?” Damien remarked.
“Why yes, from Brighton this morning by coach,” Lord Dalrymple said, seeming pleased to be included.
“Nevertheless, I have not had an opportunity to speak to my husband alone all day.”
“There will be every opportunity when afternoon tea is over and all have returned to their own homes, do you not think?” Damien whispered.
