Page 49 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
Emmeline looked at him and then at her brother, who was skipping directly ahead to his berries and cream. “You really should eat the carrots.”
“He is eating his dessert,” Lord Torrington said pointedly as he waved his fork toward Emmeline’s brother. “Scold him.”
Harcourt said, “I am master of this house. I can eat dessert when I wish.”
“You do not eat Cook’s stew. She will still smack you with her spoon,” Emmeline warned as she picked up a large carrot and bit into it.
Lord Torrington scowled at her as Emmeline’s eyes went back to him. He deliberately moved a carrot to the side while she watched him and she could not prevent the laugh. “Do not do that,” Emmeline said, coughing when the carrot threatened to go the wrong way down her throat.
“That is why you should not eat carrots,” Lord Torrington said, as though he had made some grand victorious point.
Emmeline took a sip of her wine and narrowed her eyes at him, but he simply smiled at her in return. Harcourt snorted but otherwise did not intervene. “Say, where is Miss Durant?”
“You only noticed then that she is not here? What a grand host you are,” Emmeline retorted. “She said she was taking her meal in her room. She has been a bit testy as of late. I assume it is from the pace that we have had to keep.”
Harcourt sighed and patted the table. “Well, I hope she rests, because the season will only get busier from here. I do not suppose I can talk you two into announcing your engagement earlier?”
“We agreed on a date, Harcourt. You can survive a few more balls,” Lord Torrington said with a sigh. “You should be happy to go to them. Why do you not look for a wife for yourself while you are there?”
Harcourt shook his head at his friend. “I have to chaperone, and that is my duty.”
“Will you promise us that you will marry next year? You are miserable.” Lord Torrington laid his hand palm up on the table as if pleading for Harcourt to consider his words.
Emmeline grinned. “He actually, despite his horrible delivery, has a point. Harcourt, you are so tightly strung that you might just snap if you are pulled any tauter.”
“I just want everything to work out properly.” Harcourt stabbed a berry. “Is that so much to ask?”
Emmeline picked up her wine glass. She eyed her brother over the top of the glass. “Things are going to work out how they work out. If you are looking for my permission to be happy, then by all means, do so. I am fine. Do I not look fine?”
Lord Torrington turned to look at her. “I am not a doctor, but you look alive to me.”
“Thank you,” Emmeline intoned blandly to the duke, which only caused him to grin. “Despite what His Grace said, I am fine, Harcourt. Look, just try to relax. Can you just do that for me?” Emmeline gave him a pleading look that had always worked when he was younger.
Apparently, the look worked on the older version of Harcourt as well. He sighed heavily. “I shall try, dear sister. I shall try.”
“That is all I ask.” Emmeline took a sip of her wine and rolled her eyes at Lord Torrington’s pile of discarded carrots. There were some battles she had to realise she could not win.
Chapter 9
Francesca had tried on several occasions to engage Lord Torrington at balls or dinners. No matter what tactic she used on him, he remained aloof and distant with her. His use of her name had not given her the added familiarity she had hoped it would.
Unlike Francesca, Lady Callum seemed to be enjoying the season. To Francesca’s bewilderment, the young noblewoman never lacked for a dance partner. All that Francesca had managed during the weeks since the outdoor ball was to get some invitations into social parties held by fashionable hostesses. Normally, that would thrill her, but her aim was a husband to solidify her place not more pampered women to impress.
One thing became abundantly clear to Francesca as she watched Lady Callum at the balls as the season progressed. The young lady seemed to be developing a friendship for the young Earl of Granton. It was not unheard of for friendships to be struck, but it seemed suspicious given the amount of time the noblewoman spent with the earl and not her intended.
There were already rumours here and there that perhaps the earl was interested in asking for Lady Callum’s hand. Francesca was curious as to the man’s intent as well. She had even gone so far as to approach him as Lady Callum’s chaperone. But while the man was cordial, he did not betray any confidences.
Francesca would have been more forgiving under other circumstances, but since Lord Pentworth and Lord Torrington had been unresponsive to her, she felt it wise to come to their aid with this information. If she could break the news to Lord Torrington, then he might truly look upon her as someone worthy of his trust. She straightened her shawl and pulled on her gloves as she plotted her next move.
She had pondered paying him a visit. However, she did not want to appear that forward. Instead she had had to wait for him to pay Lady Callum or the earl a visit. As he was a frequent guest of the Pentworth household, she did not have to wait long once she made up her mind to talk with him.
Francesca waited just out of sight behind a sitting room door. The sitting room had belonged to the lady of the house, but it was rarely used these days as Lady Callum preferred the library or conservatory to receive guests. Francesca strained her ears as she waited to hear the duke’s footsteps.
As she heard him, Francesca opened the door wider. “Your Grace,” she whispered urgently as the man came into sight. “I hate to disrupt your visit, but I need to speak with you on a matter of importance.”
Lord Torrington tugged on his jacket as if something about its fit displeased him. “What is it that bothers you so that you have to halt me?”
“May we talk privately?” Francesca knew it was forward of her to ask, but she took the chance. She was not disappointed when he shook his head. After all, it had only been a slim chance that he would agree to something to brazenly roguish.
