Page 2 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

Emma curtsied as gracefully as she could, holding the posture for a moment longer than necessary. As she slowly rose, she blinked demurely and allowed her eyes to meet the Earl’s. The moment was crucial; if she was to make any efforts to secure his attentions, the time to start was now.

Firman’s response was perfect courtesy and charm as he took her gloved hand and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. “Lovely indeed, Miss Lovell.” His voice held warmth that sent a flutter of hope through Emma’s chest.

When she glanced at her parents, she saw them exchange a look of triumph. They couldn’t be more pleased by the Earl’s observation, seeing it as a promising start to their ambitions for this house party. Emma, however, felt a twinge of apprehension at their eagerness, knowing all too well that things could go horribly wrong if she did not act cleverly.

Firman gestured at a dark-haired young lady who came forward. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Olivia Winger.” She appeared rather reserved, her eyes darting away quickly during introductions.

“Mrs. Hampton will show you to your rooms, Lord and Lady Dewsbury,” Lady Olivia said, gesturing toward the middle-aged woman who stood by the side, her posture speaking of years spent managing a household efficiently.

“I will show Miss Lovell to her chambers,” she added as she turned to Emma with a slight, encouraging smile and asked, “Shall we, Miss Lovell?”

This is promising. The sister appears to find me agreeable. “Please, do call me Emma,” she responded, returning the smile as she followed Lady Olivia into the manor.

As they ascended the grand staircase, Emma’s spirits were lifted perceptibly by the absence of her father’s overbearing presence. “We have most of the young guests lodged in the east wing of the manor, and the older in the west,” Lady Olivia explained as they walked through the hallways. “I find that it is better that way to make acquaintances of a similar age.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, My Lady.”

“Please address me as Olivia.” She smiled. “It is only fair if we are on even grounds of informality.”

They stopped before a door, which Olivia opened to reveal a spacious chamber decorated in soothing pale shades of green, brown, and ivory. The room was filled with light, the decor elegant yet inviting—very unlike the dark, heavy drapes and furnishings of Emma’s familial home.

“Parents can be obstinate in their archaic ways. Better to leave them to themselves,” Olivia remarked with a conspiratorial wink as she stepped inside the room.

“Indeed,” Emma chuckled. She found herself warming to Olivia Winger, her easy manner a balm to Emma’s frazzled nerves.

“There is going to be a dinner later tonight. The official opening of the house party,” she announced.

“It sounds like a marvelous time,” Emma murmured. She could practically feel her father’s impatient, demanding gaze burning into her, could hear his harsh whisper in her mind:‘You fail to secure a match, you marry the Marquess of Neads…’The title “Neads” echoed ominously in her thoughts.

Her tone must have conveyed her lack of enthusiasm, and Olivia must have heard it, because she smiled. “I am not fond of gatherings either. My brother’s house parties have quite the reputation for being very entertaining, you see. I am sure you and I will find good diversion here.”

“I am sure,” Emma responded, mustering a reassuring smile to mask her inner turmoil.

If only her father had sought the Earl’s invitation because of his reputation as a gracious host. But no, Baron Dewsbury had reached out to the Earl for far more selfish and desperate reasons—to corner their host into a match with his daughter.

“Whatever you need, Mrs. Hampton and I will do our best to make you comfortable. You need only ask,” Olivia added before she excused Emma to finally settle in and prepare for the dinner.

Flopping into a chair, she reflected on how effectively the young lady embodied the role of hostess. Despite her initial reservations about the party, Olivia’s warm demeanor offered a faint glimmer of solace amidst the brewing storm of expectations. Emma let out an audible sigh before making her way toward the window. She gazed at the lush, meticulously tended grounds below, admiring the way the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the vibrant green lawns.

A wave of curiosity overcame her, a sudden desire to explore the manor and momentarily forget the true reason she was here. She imagined herself wandering through the medieval walls of Firman Manor, each stone whispering secrets of the past, allowing her to travel back in time and escape the looming pressures of the present.

Just then, a knock on the bedchamber door interrupted her reverie. Antoinetta, her lady’s maid, entered, closely followed by a footman holding several boxes. Upon Antoinetta’s subtle nod and quiet instructions, the footman set them down and promptly exited the room.

“I never saw a household more alive and merrier,” Antoinetta exclaimed. Her blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, presumably for the days they were to spend here, filled with grand events and new acquaintances.

Emma inclined her head. Antoinetta was six years older than her. During her grandmother’s lifetime, she had formed an unlikely friendship with Antoinetta, who had been her companion. They would play in her grandmother’s house untilthey were called to behave. As Emma watched Antoinetta unpack the boxes, a smile touched her lips, recalling those carefree moments.

“I have a good feeling about this house party, Emma,” Antoinetta said, breaking into Emma’s thoughts with a hopeful tone.

They were informal whenever they were alone. To each other, they were simply Emma and Antoinetta—friends rather than mistress and servant. “I hope you are right, Antoinetta,” Emma replied.

“Oh, cheer up, Miss grumpy,” Antoinetta chuckled, trying to lift Emma’s spirits with her lighthearted banter.

“I wish I could,” Emma responded, her tone flat.

Antoinetta’s expression softened, her brows knitting together in concern. “Are they bothering you again about it?” she asked gently. Emma nodded. “Oh poor dear,” Antoinetta murmured, squeezing Emma’s hand reassuringly. At that moment, Emma felt the warmth of true companionship, very unlike the cold ambitions of her parents.

“Well, I say, do not let them get in the way of your having a wonderful time here, Emma,” Antoinetta advised, her voice brimming with optimism.

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