Page 76 of His Scarred Duchess
“Indeed, I have,” he replied, warming to the subject. “I’ve been in correspondence with several merchants in France and Italy who’ve expressed interest in high-quality English wool.”
The Earl of Blackwood, a distinguished gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair, leaned in, his expression thoughtful. “And what of the labor force, Your Grace? Surely such an expansion would require a significant increase in the number of workers?”
Edmund nodded, pleased by the astute question. “You’re quite right, my lord. I’ve developed a plan to train local villagers inthe necessary skills. It would provide employment opportunities for the community while ensuring a dedicated workforce for Holbrook.”
A murmur of approval rippled through the small group of gentlemen.
Lord Ashworth, who had been listening intently, spoke up. “I must confess, Your Grace, I had my doubts when I first heard of your agricultural reforms. But I can see now that they’re well-considered and forward-thinking.”
Edmund felt a weight lift from his shoulders at these words. After months of skepticism and resistance from his peers, it seemed that he was finally making headway.
“Your Grace,” Lord Blackwood said, his tone serious, “I’d be very interested in discussing these plans further. Perhaps you might visit my estate next week? I’m hosting a small gathering of like-minded gentlemen, and I believe your insights would be most valuable.”
Edmund’s heart leaped at the invitation. This was exactly the kind of opportunity he’d been hoping for. “I would be honored, my lord. Thank you for the invitation.”
As the conversation continued, Edmund found himself riding a wave of euphoria. The gentlemen around him were engaged, asking intelligent questions and offering valuable suggestions.
For the first time since inheriting the dukedom, he felt truly respected as a peer and a businessman.
His eyes scanned the ballroom, seeking out Adeline. He spotted her across the room, deep in conversation with her grandmother. She had such a natural elegance about her, which Edmund couldn’t help but admire.
A fresh wave of desire washed over him as he remembered their heated dance earlier in the evening. The feel of her body pressed against his, the soft gasp she’d made when he’d whispered in her ear…
Edmund shifted slightly, trying to focus on the conversation at hand.
But his mind kept drifting back to Adeline. He couldn’t wait to share his success with her, to see the pride in her eyes. More than that, he longed to hold her again, to feel the warmth of her skin under his hands.
“Your Grace?” Lord Weatherby’s voice broke through his reverie. “Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”
Edmund blinked, realizing he’d lost the thread of the conversation. “My apologies, gentlemen,” he said smoothly. “I’m afraid the excitement of the evening has me a bit distracted. Perhaps we could revisit this topic at Lord Blackwood’s gathering next week?”
The men agreed readily, and as they began to disperse, Edmund made his excuses. He had to find his bewitching wife, to tell her about this unexpected triumph. And perhaps, if he was lucky, to steal another dance with her.
As he made his way across the ballroom, his mind raced with possibilities. The future of Holbrook suddenly seemed brighter than ever. And with Adeline by his side… well, who knew what they might accomplish together?
But as he approached the spot where he’d last seen her, his steps faltered. His wife was no longer with her grandmother. Instead, she stood alone in a secluded alcove, her back rigid. And approaching her, he spotted none other than Lady Strathmore, a predatory smile on her crimson lips.
Edmund felt his euphoria evaporate, replaced by a cold dread. Whatever Joanna was up to, he knew it couldn’t be good.
With a sense of grim determination, he changed course, intent on disrupting this potentially disastrous encounter.
Adeline’s fingers tightened around her fan as Lady Strathmore approached, her crimson gown a stark contrast to the pastel hues favored by most of theton. The older woman’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light that set her nerves on edge.
“Lady Strathmore,” Adeline said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. “Good evening.”
Joanna’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good evening, Your Grace. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. How remiss of dear Edmund not to have done so.”
Adeline’s brow furrowed slightly at the woman’s use of her husband’s Christian name. “I’m afraid my husband has been quite busy this evening with business matters.”
“Ah, yes,” Joanna purred, moving closer. The scent of her heavy perfume made Adeline’s nose twitch. “Edmund was always so dedicated to his responsibilities. Tell me, does he still work himself to exhaustion? I used to have to practically drag him away from his desk for a moment’s rest.”
Adeline felt her stomach tighten at the implication of intimacy in Joanna’s words. She forced her expression to remain impassive, though she could feel a muscle jumping in her jaw.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite take your meaning, Lady Strathmore.”
Joanna’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “Oh? Has Edmund not told you about our… history?” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We were quite the item, you know. Before the war, before his father’s untimely passing. I dare say I knew him better than anyone.”
Adeline took an involuntary step back, her mind reeling. Edmund had never mentioned a past relationship with Lady Strathmore. She swallowed hard, trying to wet her suddenly parched throat.
