Page 25 of It's In The Duke's Kiss
Seven
Later that night, as she and Mary settled into their beds, Emma stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She kept replaying the duke’s kiss in her mind. She wasn’t even sure how it had happened. But if she didn’t get some sleep, she was going to look horrid tomorrow. Huffing, she turned over and punched her pillow.
“I can’t sleep, either,” Mary said from her side of the room. “What’s keeping you awake? Thoughts of Lord Nathaniel, I wager.”
It was on the tip of Emma’s tongue to tell her sister that she was wrong, but her feelings for Lucian were so new—and she was so unsure of them—that she wanted to keep them private for a bit longer. Yet, she immediately thought of the way he’d asked her of herself and how he had truly listened. And that led to thoughts of the delicious kiss he’d given her. “Yes,” she replied instead, “Nathan is most definitely in my thoughts.” And shehadthought of him, of how her enchantment, nurtured since girlhood, had really been just that, so she wasn’t lying to her sister.
Mary chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get exactly what you want.”
Emma bit her lip. The problem was that what she’d thought she wanted didn’t seem quite as clear as it had this morning. “Mary,” Emma began. “Did you see who rescued me that day I fell through the ice?”
“No,” Mary replied, hesitantly. “I’d already fainted. I don’t understand. I thought you were sure it was Mr. Layton.”
“I am. It’s just that Lady Edgeworth said the oddest thing at dinner.”
“What?” Mary inquired.
“She said that it was the Duke of Blackbourne who rescued me that day.”
“What?” Mary jerked upright in bed. “What did Lord Nathaniel say? Did he hear her?”
“Yes and no. He heard his name and I told him what she said. He said it was nonsense.”
“Then dismiss your worries,” Mary said, the ever practical side of her coming out. “Lady Edgeworth simply has it wrong. Lord Nathaniel confirmed it.”
“Yes, you’re right, of course. And the duke confirmed it himself by not correcting my belief the day I went to thank his brother.”
“There now,” Mary said in a soothing voice. “You should most definitely put what she said out of your mind. The Duke of Blackbourne seems far too honorable not to tell the truth.”
That was true. He did seem very honorable, and the truth was that it was rather attractive.
Mary sank backward with a sigh. “I caught Lord Nathaniel staring at you many times tonight.”
“Did you?” Emma murmured, hardly caring.
“Yes. His Grace stared at you, too. He never even looked at me, but I caught him watching you several times. I think he must have been keeping an eye on his brother’s behavior. He seems to be his keeper.”
“Yes,” Emma replied, her pulse racing, “I’m sure that must be it.” Her stomach tightened. But maybe Lucian had simply been watching herandonly her.
“Good night, Emma. Sweet dreams of your future husband.”
An image of Lucian flashed in Emma’s head. She gulped. “Mary, do you believe in fate?” Emma had always thought that she’d climbed that tree years ago, fallen, been scolded by Mother and then soothed by Nathan because she was fated for him, but maybe all that had happened so she would end up at his birthday celebration and in Lucian’s arms.
Mary sighed. “I don’t know, dearest. But quit fretting. If Lord Nathaniel is meant for you, all will be as it should. Or Mother will make it so for you,” Mary teased, then snickered.
Emma groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.Mother.She would not be pleased if Emma disrupted her plan for Mary to capture Lucian, regardless of the fact that Mother herself had obviously noted that he did not seem interested in Mary.
Soon after all their guests had departed, Nathaniel headed off to bed and Lucian poured himself three fingers of liquor before settling on a chair in his study opposite his mother and Danby. Lucian wanted to be alone to analyze what had happened with Lady Emmaline tonight, but his mother and great-uncle had followed him in here, despite the fact that he’d made it as clear as he could, without being rude, that he wished for solitude.
He picked up a volume of Burns poems, whom he’d heard Lady Emmaline say was her favorite poet. Burns was his favorite, as well. He smiled, thinking it was something they had common.
“What are you smiling about, darling?” His mother’s voice pierced through his thoughts. He glanced up from the book and met the curious gazes of his mother and great-uncle. With a sigh, he set the book back down on the table. Reading Lady Emmaline’s favorite poem would have to wait until later.
“I’m smiling about poetry,” he only half lied. “It makes me happy.”
His mother nodded. “That’s good, dear. Though, I think we should concentrate on what happened tonight. I don’t think your brother is at all interested in Lady Francine. I truly don’t think they’ll suit.”
“I’m afraid I concur,” Lucian said. “I’ll have to let Nathaniel know that I won’t force the marriage, yet I think I’ll insist he acquire a profession. He needs direction and responsibility.”
