Page 10 of It's In The Duke's Kiss
Emma’s breath caught in her throat as she prayed Papa had not truly been listening, but slowly, he lowered the book in which he’d had his nose buried and cut his gaze to Mother.
“I am sorry, my dear, that you think your daughter being married to an earl, as you are, would be such a lowly thing.” With that one sentence, Papa raised his book in front of his face once more.
Mother harrumphed as the carriage rambled down the road. “Don’t be so sensitive, Walter. It’s not unusual for a mother to want better for her daughters than she had herself.”
Papa brought down his book with a sigh. “No, I daresay it’s not. Pity that.”
Mary inhaled sharply, and Emma bit her lip in concern. Papa rarely bothered to comment on Mother’s babblings, and two comments in one night was unheard of. She must have truly hurt him. Emma longed to reach out and pat his hand, but that would only make matters worse.
“You cannot fault me for wanting to see the girls better settled than I am,” Mother snapped, her words distinctly peevish. “The things I want for! I’m the only one I know who has to share a lady’s maid with my daughters!”
“The utter travesty,” Papa said, shifting his book upward once again but not before Emma saw him roll his eyes. “If you think your life is so hard, Esther, you should try getting out, dearest, and visiting the streets of London sometime. I’ll take you, if you wish it. Many people have nothing.” The distinct sound of a page being turned filled the sudden silence.
“They were born to nothing,” Mother replied. “Therefore, I’m sure they expect nothing. I was born to a marquess; therefore, I expected certain things.”
“I know, my dear, and I understand I failed you.”
Mother sniffed loudly but fell quiet, which was very unusual for her. It lasted all of a minute before she took another deep breath and spoke again. “Emmaline, just remember to act like a proper lady. And whatever you do, don’t mentionthe incident. I don’t think the duke would appreciate it at all.”
Emma shivered slightly at the memory of the Duke of Blackbourne’s piercing gray eyes and the way he’d fairly commanded her to leave his Mayfair home. She imagined him referring to her near-drowning asthe incidentas her mother did and giggled.
“I see nothing amusing about the night to come,” Mother chided. “Emmaline, honestly, you laugh at the most inappropriate times.”
For once, her mother was absolutely correct. Uncontrolled laughter really was a dreadful flaw, yet she could not seem to correct it. She laughed when she was nervous, or tense, or sometimes, like just now, when something struck her as funny in her mind. All three prompts were problematic, and often the last was the most challenging to explain when asked, as she was certain most people would find her sense of humor wholly inappropriate.
Papa lowered his book. “Stop picking at her, Esther. You’ll make her nerves worse, and we all know how she laughs at odd times when that happens.”
“Oh dear! That’s true!” Her mother leaned forward and patted Emma on the knee. As she did, Papa winked at Emma before putting his book back in place.
“Emmaline, I command you to set yourself at ease,” Mother said. “Though your hair is a fright and you have clearly not worn your bonnet while in the sun these last two weeks, given the smattering of freckles across your nose, your figure could not be lovelier. In fact, I’d say you have an envious figure.”
Emma blinked in surprise at the compliment. She opened her mouth to thank her mother, but her mother’s next words silenced her. “If only you could behave as a duchess should, maybe you too could have someday been one, but no duke will ever have you the way you act. Never fear. An idea has just occurred to me.” Mother patted her again, while Emma sat woodenly. “Perhaps you can catch Lord Nathaniel’s attention. You must have done so on the ice that day. That might be the best conclusion to that day. Yes, I do like that idea. I shall work toward that end for you.”
Emma nearly groaned as the carriage rumbled to a halt in front of the Duke of Blackbourne’s enormous home. The last thing she wanted was her mother’s help with Nathan. She’d most likely just scare him off from ever wanting to talk to Emma again.
“Mother,” Mary said, “why exactly were we invited tonight? It’s not as if we are friends with the duke, his mother, or even Lord Nathaniel.”
“We’re their neighbors,” her mother answered. “They invited all their neighbors, and we shall take advantage of the boon!”
Papa looked out from behind his book. “If they invited all the neighbors, why then did we not receive a proper invitation?”
Mother opened her mouth to answer but then frowned. “I suppose we must have been inadvertently left off the list.”
Emma had a bad feeling about this suddenly. What if the duke hadnotmeant to invite her family? What if—“Mother, did you know of the birthday party before you went into the dress shop?”
“I might have heard something of it,” Mother said as she looked down and toyed with her gloves, which were already perfectly in place.
“Esther,” Papa warned in a low tone.
Mother looked up with narrowed eyes, but then she plastered a smile on her face as the door to the carriage was opened and their coachman held out his hand to help them descend.
“There now,” Mother said. “We’re here, so does it really matter how it came to be?”
Emma and Mary exchanged a silent look as Papa groaned, but they all alighted the carriage one by one.
“Lucian, dearest,” his mother said as she strolled into his study and shut the door behind her, “I need to tell you something.”
He hooked a finger between his neck and too-tight cravat and then gave the constricting material a tug. Nothing good ever followed that sentence when uttered by his mother or brother. Considering Lucian despised dinner parties filled with inane chitchat, and in a few short minutes he’d be forced to endure one at his mother’s behest for Nathaniel’s birthday, Lucian was already in a foul mood. Not to mention, he’d barely gotten any sleep because he’d had to retrieve Nathaniel in the middle of the night from the Fox and Hound Pub, and Lucian’s resultant mood wasn’t simply foul—it was dangerous. One would think almost killing Lady Emmaline would have made Nathaniel realize he needed to grow up, but it had not in the least.
