Page 93 of A Duke to Steal Her
Emily shook her head in amazement. “The elaborate web you wove, my love. It’s almost frightening how thoroughly you planned everything.”
“Almost as frightening as how well it worked,” William added. “Though I must say, Flint seemed rather pleased with his compensation.”
“He’s bought himself a rather nice villa in the Caribbean with his earnings. Last letter indicated he’s taken up painting and has developed a fondness for rum punch.”
“How wonderfully bohemian of him,” Juliana laughed.
William shifted in his chair, that dreamy expression returning to his face, and both Ambrose and Oliver immediately pounced on the opportunity.
“Speaking of romantic entanglements,” Ambrose said with a wicked grin, “William, you’ve been unusually quiet this evening. Dare we ask about the lovely lady you have been seeing frequently of late?”
William’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The way you’ve been staring into space all evening suggests otherwise,” Ambrose observed. “You have the look of a man thoroughly smitten.”
“She’s… she’s quite remarkable,” William admitted, his voice taking on a reverent tone. “Intelligent, witty, beautiful… yesterday she quoted Aristotle while beating me soundly at chess.”
“Good Lord,” Oliver chuckled. “He’s completely gone.”
“Utterly besotted,” Ambrose agreed. “It’s rather endearing, actually. Especially since I get to do the teasing this time.”
There was a moment of shared laughter before Lady Ridgewell turned to her daughter with the determination of a general planning a campaign.
“Now, Georgina, we simply must discuss your debut preparations. I’ve already spoken to Madame Dubois about your wardrobe?—”
“Mother, please,” Georgina interrupted, her usual composure cracking. “Must we discuss this now? We have a whole year till my debut.”
“A year that will pass in the blink of an eye, my dear.”
Georgina caught Emily’s eye across the room, her expression pleading for rescue. Emily shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. But Georgina, more forward in nature than Emily, would not be cornered and was already speaking.
“Actually, Mother, I’ve been thinking. Ambrose,” she called out, her voice taking on an exaggerated dramatic tone as she turned to Ambrose. “You wouldn’t happen to know any handsome dukes who might be willing to kidnap me from my dear mother this very night? Preferably one who might fall madly in love with me and save me from the horrors of the marriage mart?”
The room erupted in laughter, and Ambrose shook his head with fond exasperation. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead in a gesture that reminded everyone exactly why half theton’sladies had swooned over him for years.
Emily moved closer to him.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to find your own path, Georgie,” he said with a grin.
“Pity,” Georgina sighed dramatically. “I suppose I’ll have to rely on my own charm and wit then.”
“A dangerous proposition indeed,” Uncle Francis chuckled.
As the evening wound down and the guests began to take their leave, Emily found herself surrounded by hugs and promises to visit soon.
Lady Ridgewell kissed her cheek and whispered, “Marriage suits you, my dear. You’re positively glowing. I want to hear some good news about my grandbabies soon.”
When the last carriage had departed and the house had settled into peaceful quiet, Ambrose found Emily on the terrace, looking out over the moonlit grounds.
“Tired?” he asked, slipping his arms around her from behind.
“Content,” she corrected, leaning back against his chest. “It was perfect, having everyone here. Though I think poor Georgina is dreading her debut.”
“She’ll survive. She’s tougher than she looks.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Rather like someone else I know.”
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, then Ambrose murmured against her ear, “Fancy a swim?”
Emily turned in his arms, eyebrow raised. “It’s October, Ambrose.”
