Page 26 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

“They will be looking for me.”

“The guests?” When she shook her head, he asked, “Your parents?”

Emma did not answer, and something darkened within him. She freed her hand and stepped back. “George, I should not be in here alone with you.”

But you would be with Alexander, he almost said. “Forgive me,” he murmured and opened the door. She lingered and looked up at him as she wanted to tell him something. The moment was fleeing, however, and she slipped out.

He had acted like a fool just now, taking risks so he could keep her from Alex. George pinched the bridge of his nose. Emma was turning him into a man he barely recognized, and he had to stop this—whatever he was feeling.

When he joined the guests in the garden, he found Emma with Alexander, and his eyes hardly left them until an unexpected opportunity arose. A lady, the one Alexander had been paired with during the earlier treasure hunt, approached and drew him into conversation. Seizing the moment, George approached Emma.

“After all the food you devoured earlier, I believe a walk would come in useful for you, Miss Lovell,” he teased, a playful tone veiling his nervous anticipation.

“Why, it sounds like you were watching me throughout, Your Grace,” Emma chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

George felt a sudden jolt of surprise at her remark. Had she noticed his gaze lingering on her throughout dinner? He hoped not, as an uncharacteristic flush of embarrassment warmed his cheeks. He had, in all honesty, been almost unable to tear his eyes away from her.

Goodness! What must she think of him?

George offered her his arm, and with a graceful nod, Emma accepted. As they strolled away from the gathering, a subtle fragrance from her caught his attention. It was an intriguing scent, complex and unexpectedly delightful, much like Emma herself.

“I must say, Firman had you glued to him like an appendage throughout the evening,” George remarked as they ambled along the cobbled pathways that wound through the lush gardens.

“You sound like a jealous man, George,” she giggled, the sound light and teasing. “Why, if I didn’t know you were on a mission to protect Firman, I would have thought you claimed this walk with me out of jealousy,” she added with a sly grin that hinted at her playful mood.

George felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, her words igniting a spark of amusement within him. He wanted to counter her teasing accusation, but her challenging gaze spurred him to respond instead, “Well, Emma, someone has to remove the cat’s claws from the meat.” He shrugged insouciantly.

“I don’t think I have my claws deep enough,” she retorted, her voice carrying a mock lament. “A certain gentleman keeps getting in my way, I’m afraid,” she added, her tone subtly accusing yet filled with an underlying flirtation.

Recalling their earlier encounter in the orangery and how she’d implored him to keep from meddling, George couldn’t resist continuing their playful banter. “Ah, but that gentleman has never met a more slippery feline,” he said.

“Why, is that a compliment now?” She laughed, her amusement clear in the melodious sound that followed.

As he listened to her laughter, George found it as enchanting as he remembered. The liveliness in her face, illuminated by the soft glow of the garden lanterns, warmed him more profoundly than the mild night air.

He didn’t want to let go of this moment, watching her laugh and smile for him. He shouldn’t let go of her.You are treading a fiery path, George, one that could harm one or both of you, a voice in his head warned as soon as the thought materialized, yet George found himself disregarding every one of them.

They circled back to the terrace which led into the house, but instead of entering, they lingered, relishing the solitude afforded by the cool evening air.

“It was just the two of us now, and I wanted to keep it that way,” George thought, his gaze lingering on Emma as she admired the gardens below. The area was aglow with an array of lamps and fairy lights, each one casting its own pool of luminance that danced on the plants and the faces of the people wandering among them.

“I never saw such a concentration of light in one garden,” Emma remarked, her voice filled with wonder as she observed the scene. The lights bathed everything in a magnificent glow that seemed almost magical.

George smiled, knowing well the source of such extravagance. “Aunt Jane always likes to go the extra mile in all she does, though she would never admit to any lack of subtlety.”

“Rembrandt would have had a swell time with such light,” he commented, his mind picturing the famous painter who had been iconic in his use of light and shadow—a technique George had always admired and sometimes drew inspiration from.

“Indeed,” Emma sighed, almost dreamily. Her eyes sparkled with interest as she turned to him, her thoughts seemingly far away. “I’ve always found his painting ofThe Night Watchmost intriguing. The guards are a clear symbol of order, yet for some reason, he captured them in quite a chaotic piece: a motley of people and weapons. It sheds a new light on our understanding of the wordorder.”

“Ah, nowthatis a perfect depiction of his manipulation of light and shadow,” George exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration as he spoke of the famed artist. “Rembrandt not only captures these elements with his brush strokes and colors but takes us on figurative journeys through ‘light and dark.’ He feeds our minds a paradox in that particular painting, especially,” he elaborated, his eyes alight with fervor.

“I see you have quite the admiration for him,” Emma observed, her chuckle mingling with the evening air as she noted his enthusiasm.

“Who wouldn’t? Rembrandt was legendary, Emma,” George replied with a nonchalant shrug, his admiration for the artist evident in his tone.

Just then, Alexander and the lady from the treasure hunt, Miss Clorette reappeared, joining them on the terrace. George’s initial displeasure at the interruption flickered across his face, but he quickly composed himself, striving not to betray his annoyance.

“Ah, there you are,” Alexander greeted them.

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