Page 24 of It's In The Duke's Kiss
“Lucian, have you found her?” Nathan called for the duke—no, Lucian, for he’d forever be Lucian in her heart from this moment forward—and broke the spell. What incredible bad timing. She ground her teeth.
Lucian jerked away from her with a curse.
“Is that one of the words you were going to teach me?” she teased purposely, sensing he was upset with himself. Disappointment spiraled through her that he regretted it when all she could think was how blissful the kiss had been.
“That was a foolish suggestion. This was all foolish. I…I took liberties.”
“Lucian?” Nathan called again.
“We’re by the tunnel,” Lucian shouted. “I’ve found her.” He yanked on his cravat so hard that the material came loose and hung at his neck. “I—That is, if you wish me to, I’ll speak with your father and ask—”
“Don’t even consider it,” she said, making her voice as icy as she suddenly felt. “I appreciate your gallantry, but I’d refuse you. No one saw us. I’m not ruined. And the last thing I want is to be forced into marrying you.” Though at this moment, she didn’t feel sure of herself.
She turned away from him and toward Nathan, whom she heard approaching. She felt desperate. Desperately foolish and wishing to get away.
“Lady Emmaline,” Nathan said, coming near her. She stepped toward him as he proffered his elbow, and she eagerly took it.
“I’m so glad to see you!” She forced a cheerful note into her voice. “We have hardly had a chance to speak all evening, and I did so hope we could.”
Behind her, she could swear Lucian growled, but Nathan didn’t seem to notice. He grinned down at her. “I can remedy that. Let me walk you back to the parlor, and I’ll tell you all my secrets.”
She didn’t particularly care to know any more secrets tonight, but she nodded.
Nathaniel waved a hand at Lucian. “I’ve got Lady Emmaline well at hand. You can go on ahead of us.”
“No,” Lucian responded in a voice as unbending as steel.
She stole a surreptitious glance at the duke. Was he jealous?
“Always the stickler for propriety,” Nathan snarled.
Emma thought of their earlier conversation in which Lucian had told her that it wasn’t decorum he prized but peace. Nathan didn’t know Lucian any better than she had. How very sad.
“One of us has to be,” Lucian retorted.
Emma felt Nathan stiffen beneath her fingertips, and she tried to put him at ease. “Lord Nathaniel—”
“Nathan,” he corrected.
“She’ll call you Lord Nathaniel, as is proper,” Lucian asserted from where he walked behind them.
Her body stiffened at his high-handedness. Was this how he intended to treat his wife someday? Probably, seeing as he always ordered his brother about and now he was trying to do the same to her.
“Nathan,” she said purposefully, “do you plan to go to Town for the Season?”
“If you do,” he replied smoothly.
“We’ll depart the week before the Season begins.”
“Then so will I,” he replied. “But until then, I plan to spend all my time learning about you, if you’ll let me.”
It was exactly the sort of thing she’d dreamed he’d say to her, yet she felt curiously unexcited about it. When Lucian made a disgusted noise and Emma’s heart tripped with hope that maybe hewasjealous, she knew that Lucian was undoubtedly the reason she could not gather excitement for his brother. Lucian intrigued her, but he was the sort of gentleman she’d vowed never to marry.
