Page 26 of His Scarred Duchess
Edmund stood at the edge of his grandmother’s meticulously manicured lawn, a glass of lemonade clutched in his hand like a shield.
The cheerful chatter of the assembled guests washed over him, as unwelcome as the unseasonably warm spring sun beating down on his neck.
He turned to find Daniel approaching, a broad grin on his face and two fresh glasses of champagne in his hands.
“Perhaps I would prefer facing my doom,” Edmund muttered, replacing the lemonade with the proffered glass of champagne, nonetheless.
Daniel chuckled, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Come now, it can’t be that bad. Your grandmother has outdone herself this time. The food is excellent, the champagne is flowing, and I do believe I spotted at least three eligible young ladies casting admiring glances your way.”
Edmund grimaced. “Wonderful. Just what I need—more matchmaking attempts.”
“Heaven forbid someone finds you attractive,” Daniel said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, are you going to sulk here all afternoon, or shall we mingle? I spotted Lord Rutherford earlier, and I’m sure he’d be delighted to bore you with tales of his latest hunting expedition.”
Before Edmund could protest, Daniel put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards a group of gentlemen engaged in animated conversation near the rose garden.
As they walked, Daniel leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “By the way, did you hear about Lady Strathmore? Word has it that she’s been making quite a spectacle of herself at recent events.”
Edmund tensed up at the mention of Joanna. “I haven’t been paying attention to gossip, Daniel. You know that.”
Daniel nodded, his tone becoming more serious. “I know, but I thought you should be aware. After… well, after everything, she married old Lord Strathmore. Quite the scandal at the time, given the age difference. But now he passed away, leaving hera rather young widow. She’s been making the rounds, clearly looking for her next conquest.”
Edmund’s jaw clenched. “And why should I care about Joanna’s marital status?”
“I’m not saying you should,” Daniel replied carefully. “But forewarned is forearmed, my friend. Especially at events like these.”
Edmund sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s change the subject, shall we? I’d rather not dwell on past unpleasantries.”
Daniel nodded, understanding the need to lighten the mood. His eyes scanned the room, lighting up as he spotted a familiar face. “Of course. In fact, I see the perfect distraction. Come, let me introduce you to some of the gentlemen here. It’ll be good for you to start rebuilding those connections.”
As they made their way across the room, Daniel’s voice took on a more cheerful tone. “Ah, Rutherford!” he called out as they approached the man in question. “I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the Duke of Holbrook, have you?”
Lord Rutherford, a portly man with an impressively bushy mustache, turned at the sound of Daniel’s voice. His eyes widened slightly as they fell on Edmund.
“Your Grace! What an honor. I’ve heard so much about your innovations at Holbrook. Crop rotation, wasn’t it? Fascinating stuff, absolutely fascinating.”
Edmund nodded stiffly, desperately searching for something to say. “Yes, well… it’s proven quite effective.”
An awkward silence fell over the group.
Daniel, ever the social butterfly, jumped in to fill the void. “I was just telling His Grace about your recent hunting trip, Rutherford. Bagged an impressive stag, didn’t you?”
Lord Rutherford’s chest puffed up with pride. “Oh, indeed! A magnificent beast, twelve points on his antlers. You should have seen him—came charging out of the underbrush like the very devil himself!”
As Lord Rutherford launched into a blow-by-blow account of his epic battle with the stag, Edmund found his mind wandering. He nodded at appropriate intervals, but his thoughts were far from the hunt. Instead, he found himself reflecting on the strange restlessness that had plagued him since Lady Windhurst’s soirée.
The memory of that night kept intruding on his thoughts. He couldn’t quite understand why the lady in blue had left such an impression. Perhaps it was the way she had stood up to him, showing a spirit so rarely seen in the simpering debutantes that usually hounded him. Or perhaps it was the vulnerability he’dglimpsed beneath her bravado, a hint of something deeper that called to him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.
Unbidden, his mind wandered to more…intimatethoughts. To the soft curve of her lips as she’d smiled despite herself. He found himself wondering how those lips might feel against his own, how her body might fit against his as they danced. The memory of her delicate scent-lavender and something uniquely her-lingered tantalizingly in his mind.
Edmund shook his head slightly, trying to dispel these unwelcome thoughts. He had no business thinking about a woman he’d likely never see again. His duty was to Holbrook, to his tenants, and to his legacy.
And yet his eyes scanned the crowd, his heart quickening at every flash of honey-brown hair or peal of laughter that sounded vaguely familiar.
And still, as Lord Rutherford droned on about antler points and tracking techniques, Edmund found his mind drifting once more to that moonlit garden, to the spark of connection he’d felt with a woman whose name he didn’t even know.
It was a dangerous path his thoughts were taking, one that could lead to nothing but disappointment and disillusionment. And yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to banish the memory of her entirely.
“… and then, if you’ll believe it, the dashed thing leaped clean over a hedgerow! Never seen anything like it in all my years of hunting. Wouldn’t you agree, Your Grace?”
