Page 104 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke
He did not relinquish her hand but did not move to follow her either. Emma felt frustrated, locking eyes with him. His fingers squeezed hers as though he sought to hold onto her. But there was a wall behind his eyes that she could not break through.
Emma wanted to scream.
What are you trying to tell me? Why do you hold onto me so fiercely and yet behave as though you do not want me at all?
“Very well. You are quite right,” Emma laughed awkwardly, dredging the emotion from somewhere deep within. Or at least the semblance of that emotion.
“By the way, I was talking to Lord Ashville here about a promising business enterprise,” Damien said absently, “I agreed to discuss the matter further with him this evening over dinner. I hope you don't mind if I am absent for one night.”
Fear gripped Emma, but she tightened her grip equally on her husband's hand. Felt the answering squeeze. A silent communication between the two of them that she did not understand.
She moved closer to him, taking his arm as a new lady joined their circle and began chattering. Damien looked as though he were listening intently and Emma put on the same facade. But as she glanced up at him, she caught him glancing back at her. She smiled at him hopefully and saw the ghost of a response before it was crushed behind a stony visage.
Damien shifted so that one arm was hidden from the rest of the group behind Emma. He touched her back. It sent a shiver from the small of her back to her hair and she bit her lip as she nodded and smiled. He ran his fingers up her back, eliciting a tremble in her. She pressed herself to his side as discreetly as she could, wanting the contact but knowing the need to hide that want in a public setting like this.
She spoke, playing her part in the conversation. Damien did too. Even smiled. Tension thrummed between them. Emma sensed his need for her. It was as though he fought that need, weighing it against whatever this new imperative was.
“Promise, Lord May? Of course, I will promise to attend your daughter's debut next year. I should be delighted and always keep my promises,” Emma said, in response to a question.
“We do, unless circumstances force us otherwise,” Damien put in.
“Of course, though I cannot foresee a circumstance that would lead to the breaking of our word,” Emma replied, directing her response to Lord May who bowed his head in agreement, “and I am sure I speak for His Grace too,” Emma continued.
“You do,” Damien beamed.
“And you may rely upon the word of the Duke of Redmane,” Emma added, intending her words to bite even as she smiled through them.
Damien's hand pressed again at the small of her back, rubbing in a small circle that she had always liked. Emma regretted her veiled barb but had not been able to help herself.
“Redmane is an honorable house and will always be,” Damien nodded.
Emma pushed it further. “For example. My husband recently promised me an end to his endless travels up and down England for business. That he would leave his father's legacy be. And here we are, hosting our new friends instead of visiting dusty old mills.”
“But business cannot be ignored, dearest,” Damien insisted gently. “My father left behind a legacy which I am sure all will agree is significant.”
That brought a rumble of assent from the men, keen to show their knowledge of markets, economics, and business byagreeing with a statement made by another without the need to voice their own.
“I cannot ignore that legacy. I must attend to it,” Damien uttered, looking at everyone but Emma.
“Must you? I would hate to see you burned by the fire of your dedication,” Emma countered suavely. “Such things can happen, I am told, when a man puts too much of himself into an endeavor.”
“Moderation in all things, eh?” Sir Thomas said into a momentary silence as Emma and Damien looked at each other.
“Moderation can lead to mediocrity. There are times when one must commit, body and soul, to an enterprise and see it through to the end,” Damien finished bluntly.
His tone and words were jarring next to the vapid emptiness of the conversation from the other ladies and gentlemen. They glared at each other until Sir Thomas broke the silence.
“Hear hear. An excellent point,” he said, dutifully.
Emma saw the door to the drawing room open and Elsie peek around it. Emma met her maid’s eyes who beckoned discreetly.
“Would you all excuse me for just a moment? I am needed,” she said slowly.
She walked across the room gracefully, while inside, she roiled.
He speaks as though he never made me the promise that he would give up this mad quest for revenge. Commit body and soul? Have I not done that for him?
Elsie disappeared into the next room and Emma closed the door behind them.
