Page 23 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke
“It seems they took the opportunity of our arguing to escape their chaperones,” Damien drawled.
“Papa will be furious if he finds out they went alone!” Emma wrung her hands in panic. “Josie has always been headstrong and somewhat reckless.”
Damien suppressed a snort of laughter inadequately. Emma shot him a level look.
“Did you find something amusing, Your Grace?”
“After that ride in the trap, I think recklessness must run in this family,” Damien chuckled.
Emma glared at him. “Your pardon, Your Grace. But I am not reckless.”
“There was not one part of you that enjoyed the thrill?” Damien asked, “Or the excitement of an illicit kiss?”
Emma colored, making her eyes stand out beautifully.
“That would make you equally reckless,” she said quietly.
“I am,” Damien agreed, thinking of recent events of which Emma knew nothing.
I bear bruises and burns from my recklessness. Cuts that will leave scars. New scars to join the old.
He looked at Emma, who stood just a few feet away—close enough to reach out and touch. Suddenly, the urge to do just that was almost overwhelming. He even raised his hand from his side before recovering his self-control and running it through his hair instead.
“I think they will have decided to walk up Windmill Hill. There are many secluded spots in the thicket atop the hill,” Emma nodded sagely, “Yes, we should begin our search there.”
She blushed again. “If you are happy to help me look for them, that is.”
“I was allowed a say?” Damien teased, and Emma rolled her eyes.
As they left the churchyard, Emma was struggling with something.
Finally, she blurted out, “Oh, and thank you for your offer. To intercede on Josie's behalf with Papa. You do not know Sir Thomas yet, but you were willing to vouch for him to help someone you have just met. That was very kind.”
“I am not the brute that I presented myself as when we first met,” Damien replied, “nor do I wish to argue with you or be detested by you. Quite the opposite.”
“Let us not talk of it, please?” Emma asked plaintively, “It will only lead to an argument, and I do not wish that either.”
Nor I. But I must guard against the ridiculous feeling of happiness I experience when you tell me you do not wish to argue.
They were beginning to climb the hill, which was steeper than it looked. Mossy stone walls enclosed the road, and fields were to either side. The sun quickly grew hot, and Damien found himself anticipating the generous shade of the trees at the top.
“May I ask why you are so against marriage?” he put into the silence.
He noticed Emma's right hand going to her side at that moment. She caught his eye, and her hand dropped away again.
“I simply do not wish my entire existence to be dedicated to finding a husband. I am not against marriageper se.”
Damien kept his gaze forward. “I tend to agree. I became Duke three years ago and have been urged to find a wife and produce an heir. I was not ready to do either.”
“Young men are afforded the freedom to do as they wish, which young women are not,” Emma noted, though not argumentatively.
She was puffing as she climbed, as was Damien.
“I have not been wasting myself in sport,” he remarked, “I just… have a purpose beyond simply perpetuating the Fitzgerald line.”
“And that is?” Emma asked, somewhat breathless.
Damien shook his head.
