Page 31 of His Scarred Duchess
“Yes!” chimed in another young lady. “We’ve heard you have a most…vigorousapproach to tilling the soil.”
Edmund fought to keep his expression neutral, even as he realized the ladies were attempting to flirt using agricultural euphemisms.
“I assure you, our farming methods at Holbrook are quite conventional. We simply focus on sustainable practices and?—”
“Sustainable!” interrupted a third lady, fanning herself dramatically. “How thrilling! And do you personally oversee these practices, Your Grace?”
“I… well, yes, I do inspect the fields regularly,” Edmund replied, growing increasingly uncomfortable.
“In your shirt sleeves, I hope,” murmured one of the mamas, eyeing him appreciatively.
Edmund cleared his throat, desperately searching for an escape. His eyes scanned the lawn and landed on a familiar figure. Lady Adeline stood with her grandmother, her honey-brown hair gleaming in the sunlight. Even from a distance, Edmund could see the tension in her posture, the forced smile she wore as she nodded to whatever Lady Gillingham was saying.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” he said, bowing slightly. “I’m afraid I have a… pressing agricultural matter to attend to.”
Ignoring their disappointed murmurs and thinly veiled innuendos about “sowing his seeds”, Edmund made his way towards a group of gentlemen gathered near the refreshments table. Perhaps there he could find a respite from the relentless and bizarrely agricultural matchmaking attempts.
However, his reprieve was short-lived. A familiar voice, smooth as silk and twice as dangerous, cut through the conversation.
“My, my, Your Grace. I never knew you had such a passion for agriculture. How… quaint.”
Edmund stiffened, his entire body tensing up as if preparing for battle. He turned slowly, steeling himself for the sight he knew awaited him.
Joanna stood before him, resplendent in a gown of deep crimson that clung to her curves in a manner just this side of scandalous. Her red lips were curled into a predatory smile, her eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker, more calculating.
“Lady Strathmore,” he said coolly, fighting to keep his voice steady. “I wasn’t aware you had an interest in farming practices.”
Joanna laughed, a tinkling sound that set his teeth on edge. It was the same laugh that had once captivated him, that had echoed in his dreams. Now, it only served to remind him of his foolishness.
“Oh, I have many interests, Your Grace,” she purred, taking a step closer. The scent of her perfume—roses and something spicier—wafted to him, bringing with it a flood of unwelcome memories. “Perhaps we might discuss them somewhere more… private?”
Edmund felt the weight of curious gazes upon them. The conversation around them had dimmed, theton’sattention now firmly fixed on this unexpected drama unfolding in their midst. No doubt they were salivating at the prospect of fresh gossip involving the reclusive Duke of Holbrook and the widowed Lady Strathmore.
He could almost hear the whispers starting already. Had the Duke and Lady Strathmore rekindled their relationship? Was she the reason for his long absence from Society? The potential for scandal hung heavy in the air, as tangible as the spring heat.
“I’m afraid I must decline,” he said, his voice firm despite his inner turmoil. He took a deliberate step back, putting distance between himself and Joanna. “If you’ll excuse me, my grandmother requires my attention.”
Joanna’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of anger breaking through her carefully cultivated mask of seduction. “Come now, Edmund,” she said, her voice low and intimate. “Surely you haven’t forgotten the… connection we once shared? I’ve missed our littletête-à-tête.”
Edmund’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. How dare she speak of their past so casually, as if she hadn’tshattered his heart and his trust in one fell swoop? As if the mere mention of their ‘connection’ didn’t fill him with rage and pain?
“That’s all in the past, Lady Strathmore,” he replied, his tone arctic. “And that’s where it will remain. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Without waiting for a response, Edmund turned on his heel and strode away, his back ramrod straight. He could feel Joanna’s gaze boring into him, could sense the speculation and excitement rippling through the crowd. But he didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness, any hint that her presence still affected him.
As he made his way across the lawn, his mind raced. He had known that re-entering Society would be difficult, but he hadn’t anticipated this. Joanna’s appearance had caught him off guard, dredging up feelings and memories he’d thought long since buried.
He quickened his pace, desperate to put as much distance between them as possible.
In his haste, he nearly collided with Lady Adeline, who had been making her way to the rose garden.
“Your Grace!” she exclaimed, taking a quick step back. “I do beg your pardon. I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Edmund found himself momentarily struck dumb. Up close, her green eyes were even more striking than he remembered, flecked with gold and framed by long lashes.
“Not at all, Lady Adeline,” he managed after a moment. “Though I must say, for someone so eager to escape my company at Lady Windhurst’s, you seem to have a knack for finding me in gardens.”
A blush rose to Adeline’s cheeks. “I assure you, Your Grace, any encounters are purely coincidental. Unless you’re suggesting I’m chasing you through shrubberies?”
