Page 52 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“That is not it at all, Mother. It is just that you are a very refined woman, and Lady Callum is from an upbringing in Scotland where our stringent customs are viewed as an oddity. You might very well scare the young lady right back to Scotland.” Nash sighed as he saw her soften a little.
She patted her curls. “My great-grandmother was from Scotland. Did you know that, Nash?”
It was unusual for her to use his given name these days and he looked at her when she did so. “I do recall the story, yes,” he admitted.
Her smile took on a nostalgic quality as she spoke. “I remember being a child and spending a summer in Scotland, along the northern shore. It was as though giants had trod there and left behind such beauty.”
“I think she is from northern Scotland,” Nash said as he tried to remember. “Brodie, I think.”
His mother nodded. “Oh, yes. That would be northern Scotland. Lovely country. You really should go after you are wed.”
“You should come too if you miss it so,” Nash said before he remembered that there would be no wedding. Then again, he could always take his mother to visit her ancestral home as a trip of their own.
His mother came over and put her hands on either side of Nash’s face tenderly. “You would really take me along with you? Do you not think you should take your wife aside and ask her first?”
“Well, even if she disapproves there is nothing against me taking my mother to visit her ancestral homeland,” Nash said with a smile that for once he did not have to force.
She looked happy, happier than he had seen her in a long while.
“I think you are truly becoming quite the duke. Your father was right that you simply needed time. I am sorry that I vexed you so about marriage. I knew that finding the right woman would help you become the man I knew you could be.” She stepped back as if to look at him fully. “I see that man before me now, Nash. Or should I say truly for the first time, Lord Torrington.”
***
The stars were shining brightly outside the hall where society had gathered. It was an exclusive ball and one that Emmeline was certain she had only received an invitation for because of her association with Lord Torrington. She saw many faces she had seen before and a few that she had not.
To her great relief, Lord Hawley was in attendance. He gave her a nod of his head as he passed by with a group. Emmeline needed to speak to him, but it would have to wait. She turned and almost ran into Lord Torrington. “Forgive me for sneaking up on you,” He said with a chuckle.
She raised her hands and waved off his concern. “I should have been more aware of what was going on around me.”
“I was wondering if I might steal you for a few moments away from your friend Lord Hawley and greedily keep you to myself for a while?” Lord Torrington’s words were soft to not carry, and Emmeline realised it added good effect, because he had to lean over to whisper the words to her, making the gesture look intimate.
She smiled at him and laid her hand upon the arm he offered her. “My brother asked me about the engagement party. I told him I thought you were handling most of the arrangements.”
“Indeed, I already have it under control,” Lord Torrington confirmed. “But you are welcome to give me any advice that you would like. I will take it into consideration.”
She shrugged. “It is just another party is not? I assume your mother is doing the decorating and so on?”
“Oh, yes, she is quite thrilled to put her expertise to use.” There was a smile on his lips that held amusement. “She is actually interested in visiting your castle.”
Emmeline raised her eyebrows. “Is this in revenge for me not going to her party?”
“Not quite,” Lord Torrington said with a wry grin. “You see I mentioned that you were from Scotland. I failed to remember that her family was originally from Scotland, her great-grandmother to be precise.”
The very idea that Lord Torrington was related to someone from Scotland warmed her heart. Her homesickness had become terrible, it seemed. “I would not mind her visiting at all. It is nice to find ties to home even this far away. My brother hardly counts as he is more English than anyone I have ever met.”
Lord Torrington stifled a laugh. “Have you considered that he was rescued waif?”
“Oh, that is wretched,” Emmeline whispered to keep people from eavesdropping. “Honestly, what passes for friendship between you and my brother baffles me.”
He looked thoroughly amused by her words. “And ladies are not so similar?”
“Well, ladies are more subtle,” Emmeline said, lifting her shoulders. “It appears that the dancing is starting.” She peered over at the master of ceremonies, who was making his way toward the platform where the musicians were.
Lord Torrington favoured the platform at one end of the wide hall with only a glance. “If by subtle you mean that women talk about each other behind their backs instead of to their faces then I can agree with you.”
“You seem very jaded for having never been much in feminine company. Has your mother truly coloured your vision of females so?” Emmeline regarded him with frustration. His dark-brown eyes watched her with such intensity she wondered what he was thinking. “Is there something you want to say?”
He shook his head. “What would there be for me to say?”
