Page 47 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“You look fine, beautiful, splendid. Mercy, Sister, you are only going to see Nash. You see him every other day,” Harcourt tugged on his coat as if Emmeline had somehow knocked it askew.
Francesca came down the stairs with a displeased look on her face. “I fully expected you to be in the carriage leaving the way that little maid carried on.”
“We are going to be late as it is,” Harcourt said without looking back at the woman. The doorman held the door open for them as they filed out.
The carriage was already waiting. The footman was standing ready next to the carriage door. He quickly and helped first Emmeline and then Francesca into the carriage.
Harcourt climbed in behind them. There was very little conversation on the way to the party. Emmeline found it quite uncomfortable. The other two seemed oblivious to it, and she began to wonder if the tension was merely inside her own head.
She was grateful when the carriage stopped. Se was the first one up and therefore the first one out. Emmeline quickly and breathed in the cool night air. There was dampness in the air, but it did nothing to deter the revelry of the partygoers. She went up the steps toward the hall.
She had become accustomed to the people and felt comfortable enough walking away while her brother got himself out of the carriage. She stopped to talk to one of the unmarried girls who was waiting for her chaperone as well. Emmeline headed towards the music when a familiar voice stopped her.
“Lady Callum,” Lord Torrington, appearing at her elbow. “Where are your dutiful chaperones?”
Emmeline laughed. “We were separated. They were so cranky that I decided to just go on without them.”
“That is as good a reason as any I have heard,” Lord Torrington agreed. “Accompany me to the dance floor? I am certain they will catch up with us.”
Emmeline looped her arm through his. “Lead on, Your Grace.”
“Hold on there,” Harcourt called, coming up behind them. He nodded to a few ladies who gave him disapproving looks at his fast pace.
Lord Torrington turned at Harcourt’s approach, turning Emmeline with him much to her amusement. “Ah, there you are. I found your lost lamb.”
“I was wandering the bleak moors until His Grace saved me,” Emmeline chimed in with a grin.
Harcourt shook his finger at her. “If you would not go rushing off without us then you would not be wandering anywhere.”
“You have found me now, so we are going to dance. That is if that is to your liking, Brother?” Emmeline looked at him as she waited for his answer.
Harcourt sighed. “I do not suppose that it even matters. Go with you!”
Emmeline heard the music and its lively rhythm. “It sounds like a fun tune. I hope my dress is not too tight,” she whispered to Lord Torrington, who gave her a look of disturbance. She laughed brightly not minding that it turned the heads of two ladies near the entrance.
“You shall get yourself in trouble yet,” Lord Torrington warned her, but he had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that told Emmeline he was not at all upset by her actions.
They soon found a place on the dance floor. Emmeline quickly found the rhythm of the dance as she and Lord Torrington hooked arms and twirled around, swapping arms as the dance went along. There was so much spinning that by the end of the dance, Emmeline found the whole world seemed to move. “I feel as though I have drunk a whole pitcher of mulled wine,” she said breathlessly as they stepped off the dance floor.
Lord Torrington agreed. “It can be a bit dizzying.”
They made their way to the refreshment table. “Is that Lord Grayson?” Emmeline gestured vaguely to avoid pointing.
Lord Torrington nodded. “It does appear so. I wager he already has a card game going somewhere.”
“And you are eager to be off after it? Taken to gambling your money away?” Emmeline bit her lip at the look on the duke’s face at her questions.
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I have decided to bankrupt myself.” He shrugged. “I think running a shipping business is quite enough gambling for me. I do like the occasional friendly game though.”
“My father never liked cards. He said men would waste away at them.” Emmeline sighed and sipped her drink. “From what I have seen of Englishmen, they seem to take great pride in their cards.”
Lord Torrington nodded. “I suppose they do. It is a sign of a cunning man to be able to better his opponents at the card table.”
“I suppose you should be off to it then,” Emmeline said with a sigh.
He gave her a bow. “Good luck to you as well,” he whispered as he left.
Emmeline watched the duke for a moment then she turned her eyes towards a group of ladies that were standing nearby. Some of them she actually knew, so she could enter the group with no invitation. She walked up to them. “Hello, Dowager Randall. Where is your niece?”
