Page 20 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke
“Your Grace, an unexpected honor and pleasure. I assumed I would be the only guest to dine tonight.”
“As did I…” Damien intoned slowly.
There was something about this man that he positively disliked. It was utterly baffling that one man should have such a sense of proprietorship over another man’s home. Why did Montrose allow it?
“I should think that we have one or two private matters to hammer out before dinner, do we not, Montrose?” Silas sneered, nudging the Earl in the ribs.
Damien gaped at the gesture in utter confusion.
Montrose had the good grace to look uncomfortable at such brusqueness directed towards his other guest and the inappropriate use of his name. It was correct for Montrose's social equals or superiors to refer to him by his title alone. It was entirely unorthodox for an inferior to do so. Unless that inferior was quite supremely arrogant.
“Yes, of course, Sir Silas. Weighty matters,” Duncan replied with a nervous chuckle. “Would you perhaps excuse us, Your Grace?”
Startled, Damien bowed his head and watched as Montrose led his new guest away. Then he glanced at Emma, realizing that the two of them were alone.
Emma’s frown flicked to a smile the moment she noticed him observing. “Would you care for a tour of the park and grounds, Your Grace?” she hastened to fill the silence.
The park was unkempt, and the gardens were quite possibly not much better.
“Do you ride, Lady Emma?”
“Did we not dispense with the honorifics at our last meeting?” Emma furrowed her brows.
“So we did,” Damien replied. “Do you? Ride, I mean?”
“I prefer driving. I drive our trap and the carriage when we used to...and the carriage,” Emma quickly finished, stammering over the last few words.
Damien did not miss the hesitation and wondered briefly at its significance.
She used to drive the carriage when? When they owned one? The implication was that they no longer did. This would be more evidence that Montrose desperately needed to marry off his daughters.
“A drive in the trap then,” Damien said slowly, “I would rather that than sit about waiting.”
What an enigmatic family.
Emma colored as if reading his thoughts. “I am sorry about that. Sir Silas is... well, he is quite insistent.”
“Who is he?” Damien asked matter-of-factly.
“An old... acquaintance of my father,” Emma said carefully before nodding. “Yes. I'll see if Josephine is free to join us. Rosaline shan’t be up for hours yet, but Josie should be free. We can go as far as the Nettlebed and back. It is a pleasant drive.”
Damien nodded, still curious about Sir Silas but equally keen to be more amenable than he had been on his last meeting with Emma. He remembered to smile and received a thrillwhen it was returned. Emma's smile truly shone, making her eyes sparkle, and displaying a dimple on each cheek. Damien reminded himself that this woman and her family were manipulating him or trying to through judiciously placed gossip. Despite that remonstrance, it remained difficult for him to resist that smile or those pretty dimples.
He waited while Emma went to fetch her sister, whom Damien understood to be the youngest of Duncan Montrose's three daughters. Presently, Emma returned with a slightly younger woman who smiled shier and curtsied deeper.
“Your Grace is a most excellent dancer,” she said, blushing, “I caught you and Emma dancing. It was very graceful.”
“I can assure you, Lady Josephine, that I am surprised. I am more than a little out of practice. It has been several years since I danced. I certainly am not up to your standard. You were very elegant in your dances with Sir Thomas Donovan.”
“You take an interest in your guests,” Emma commented.
“My duty as a host,” Damien replied smoothly.
“Thank you very much for the invitations, Your Grace,” Josie blushed.
Emma smiled at her, and Damien felt slightly warm at the notion that he had made both of them happy. It did not last long.He could not escape the knowledge of what he was planning and how it would affect the lives of the Montrose family.
A few brief moments later, they were all three in the trap. It leaped from the stable yard under what Damien judged to be expert hands. Josie fell back in her seat, clutching her bonnet. Damien found himself swaying as Emma drove them around looping bends, up and down a dale.
