Page 23 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“It is hard, when you leap from one conversation to another so quickly, much like the young ladies that you disparage so.” Harcourt’s words might have been haughty, but Nash took no offense. They had grown up together at boarding school, and he was used to Harcourt’s moods.
Nash shrugged. “By all rights, you should be wedding before me. You are older.”
“I would gladly do so,” Harcourt reminded him. “But I have the pressing issue of my sister’s marriage to attend to first. I do not think that many ladies would like to share their home with my sister. And I am only a year older than you, Nash.”
They weaved their way through the garden where the first buds emerging from the roses that lined the path. “Surely, they would not truly be sharing any sort of home. Your sister has an estate to herself.”
“An estate that I am a steward of,” Harcourt said with a grunt.
Nash laughed. “Fine. But honestly, do you think it will be so hard to find a match for her?”
“You have met my sister,” Harcourt said as they reached the stone steps to the patio. “She has a lovely face, but she often steps out of line with her tongue.”
Nash had noticed that she did not seem much for the rules of etiquette. “True enough. But there are men who like that fiery disposition in their women.”
“I hope so because, apparently, it is ingrained within her. She is so much like our mother that I fear it goes all the way to the roots of her soul.” Harcourt shook his head, despairing at the thought.
They made their way back into the house as Nash’s mind mulled over the idea of Lady Callum. Perhaps they could be of aid to each other. They might not have much in the way of attraction, but necessity was a powerful ally.
Lady Callum might be talked into a plan to help Nash stop his mother’s incessant matchmaking, if he could convince her that she would gain what she wanted most from it. After all, he could offer her exposure and time to find the man she wanted. The more Nash thought on it, the more reasonable it seemed.
Now if only he could find time to explain his plan to the lady in question without that nosy maid of hers overhearing. Francesca would be just the sort to report back to Harcourt any improprieties to raise her stature in the man’s eyes. Nash was still pondering when they reached the study.
“You have been quiet. Are you plotting?” Harcourt asked the question with a smile as he held the door open.
With a grin, Nash said, “Perhaps I am.”
“See, you should have learned by now that your mother is not someone to be trifled with.” Once Nash was through the door, Harcourt went straight to the table that held the liquor. As he poured brandy into two glasses, there was a rumble of thunder. “Sounds like the storm has finally blown in.”
Nash took the tumbler of brandy from his friend. “It does indeed.”
Chapter 5
Emmeline was admiring the roses waiting on Francesca to come to collect her. The sound of boots crunching on the stones of the path startled her. “Your Grace,” she said in surprise as Lord Torrington approached her, riding gloves in hand.
“Lady Callum. Again it appears that I have stumbled upon you in your brother’s stead.” He inclined his head to her. “It is a lovely day for a visit to the gardens.”
She curtseyed as she had been taught. A curl of hair brushed her cheek. She straightened and offered the duke a smile. “After the storm yesterday, I wanted to make sure the roses were unharmed.”
“They look to be doing well.” He reached out and touched one of the delicate buds.
“You do not seem very eager to find my brother, Your Grace.”
“You are very astute. You have found me out.” He chuckled, which was a lovely warm sound from his throat. “I was actually hoping to speak with you.”
Emmeline might have not had much experience with English society, but even she knew that was a bit out of the ordinary. “Is that a proper thing for a man such as yourself to do, Your Grace?”
He could have been offended that Emmeline had dared to question him or, worse, called him out on his mistake. There was no anger on his face as his lips quirked up at the corners into a smile. “It might earn me a reproving lecture from my mother, that is true. However, I thought the risk worth taking.”
“I am listening, Your Grace.” If it were important enough for him to break etiquette, then it must have been something of grave earnestness.
Lord Torrington put his hands behind his back and took a breath as if preparing to say something quite difficult. “You and I,” he said at last, “have goals with which we could aid each other this coming season.”
“I thought you were eager to not participate in the London season at all.” Emmeline wished she had not interrupted him, but he did not seem offended.
He nodded. “True. I have made it no secret that marrying this year is not my intention. I would like very much to be able to focus on business and perhaps a trip that I have been putting off for some time.”
Emmeline pulled her shawl up over her shoulders. “I fail to see what I can do to help you with that situation.”
