Page 28 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
Emmeline covered her mouth as she laughed. She shook her head. “I meant no offense, Your Grace.”
“Trust me, I believe you. You do not mince words when you wish to cause a grievance. I have heard you speak to your brother, remember?” His smile was warm and put Emmeline at ease.
“If you had to be engaged to someone it is better to see their ugly side first.”
“Ugly? That is the most attractive side.” His words were bantered back with practised ease, and Emmeline shook her head at him. “Now, I think we should start our courtship at the first ball.”
She shrugged and agreed, “I am sure that we can come up with something. My brother would be a good choice for discovering us, but we can discuss it the night of the ball and figure it out.”
“You really are nothing like your brother. He is not much for just going in unprepared, yet you seem very willing to do so.” Lord Torrington watched her, and Emmeline wondered what his judgment of her was.
A bird cried overhead startling Emmeline. Lord Torrington snorted in laughter at her nervousness. “Devil sees you laughing, Your Grace. He knows my nervousness is from a place of good standing and your ease is from your propensity to skulk about in gardens.” Emmeline’s words only caused him to lose himself in mirth more. She became concerned that someone might actually hear him. “Shush,” she said as she reached out to hit him on the shoulder. “You will bring the whole household here.”
“Then we start our plan a week early,” he said with no regard at all.
Emmeline narrowed her eyes at him. “I do not wish to be found in a garden with anyone, duke or not.”
He shrugged. “Then stop making me laugh.”
“I do not think you have any worries over marriage. No woman is going to put up with you. Bless your mother for trying,” Emmeline shook her head and crossed her arms back over her chest.
Lord Torrington grinned. “You know the angrier you get, the more your accent comes through.”
“Aye, well, at least I do not sound like a mule let out in the pasture,” Emmeline retorted.
He shook his head. “I try to make a grand gesture for you, and you insult me?”
“Do you know how women work, Your Grace?” Emmeline sighed. “Perhaps while we are pretending to court you could learn a thing or two.” She squinted at him. “Will your mother not just start up again as soon as you break off with me?”
Lord Torrington shook his finger at her and smiled. “There is the thing. I am going to be broken-hearted. You shall break my heart into tiny pieces. She may be glad to let me go on my soul-searching trip, which just happens to take me to the holdings that I want to check on.”
“That is just wrong,” Emmeline said, but she smiled despite herself. “I do hope that Harcourt will forgive me for breaking his friend’s heart.”
“Oh, do not fret, I will make sure that Harcourt knows that part is more for my mother’s sake. He knows how she is.” Lord Torrington stood up and stretched as if leaning against the tree had caused him a great deal of pain. “I do believe that we are settled, until we meet the night of the ball.”
Emmeline frowned. “I fear that I will not see my home for some time. I hope that this is all worth it.”
“Freedom is always worth it,” Lord Torrington said firmly. “Until the ball, Lady Callum.” He gave her a deep bow, and she curtseyed to him in return.
She watched the duke slip back through the trees, and she made her way back out under the sunlight. She looked up at Grandfather Oak. “You keep my secrets, Grandfather,” she whispered before turning back to the house.
To her surprise, Harcourt was waiting on her in the dining room. “You seem rather eager to speak. What is it, Harcourt?” Her brother looped his arm through hers and led her toward his study.
“I have had another letter about you.”
Emmeline felt panic rise in her as she was guided into the study. Harcourt seemed entirely too happy. She thought of the duke and their plans. They might be for nothing if Harcourt did not even let her get to the ball.
“Here.” He held the folded piece of paper out to her as he sat down in his chair.
Emmeline took the letter with misgivings.
“Oh, do not look so apprehensive, Sister. It is just a letter.”
She opened the letter, and it was as she feared a letter offering courtship. “I do not know this man. Is he important?” She put an emphasis on the word important.
Harcourt’s head tilted from side to side. “He is a baron. That is not a horrible choice.”
“A baron is below my station, Brother.” She tried to conjure up all the indignation she could. “I will not stand for it.”
