Page 49 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

“It is a cold evening.”

His smile turned into a grin. “You are correct.” Emma allowed herself to enjoy the dance, and for a moment, she was able to forget her worries. When it ended, she noticed Alexander’s expression grow serious as they left the dance floor.

“Allow me to apologize for my clumsiness earlier,” he said, his tone earnest.

Something within Emma churned at the reminder of their earlier encounter in the maze, but she quickly masked her discomfort with a graceful smile. “Oh, I ought to apologize, as well.”

“There wouldn’t be a need for that,” Alexander quickly dismissed her concern. “We will just keep our clumsiness between us.”

Emma laughed, genuinely this time, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep within her. It was a welcome release from thetension that had been building inside her. In that moment, there was no skepticism about Alexander’s intentions or his character.

Still, beneath the temporary joy, her heart ached over how George had treated her. How she wished she could undo the misunderstanding, to explain and perhaps mend things between them.

“Indeed, we will,” she agreed to Alexander’s suggestion.

“I suppose I should thank you for the marvelous time here then,” Emma added. “It is a shame that all good things must end.”

“It will continue in London. I must say it was an honor making your acquaintance and friendship, Emma.” He gave her hand a pat.

“Likewise,” Emma returned warmly. In the end, despite all that had occurred, she still had her new friendships intact. She reminded herself of the sacrifice she had made by defying her parents’ wishes, choosing to protect Alexander from an unwelcome entrapment. He deserved more than to be a pawn in a marriage scheme, and certainly not a partner who would deceive him.

When she felt her emotions rising again, she gently drew her hand away and smiled. “Please excuse me, Alex. There is a matter I must see to.”

“Of course.”

With quick steps, she walked back into the manor, seeking a quiet place where she could regain her composure. She found sanctuary in a dimly lit salon. Closing the door softly behind her, she looked up at the moonlight filtering into the room through the glass doors that led out to a terrace.

Her gaze wandered and settled on a painting hanging prominently above the fireplace. It depicted a tranquil landscape, and she wondered if it was another of George’s acquisitions, a reminder of his presence everywhere she turned.

How did I arrive at this state?she mused, feeling the sting of tears threatening her composure. After what he had witnessed in the maze, perhaps he had every right to treat her with such coldness. Yet, he had no idea of the pressures she faced, the desperate measures she had been driven to consider to survive her family’s demands.

“Have you seen my daughter?”

Emma tensed. Panic washed over her as she recognized her father’s voice just outside the salon, likely questioning a footman. “I believe I saw her go down that hallway, My Lord,” came the footman’s response.

Her heart pounding, she looked around the room frantically for where to hide. Seeing the terrace, she hurried toward it. As she pushed the door open and stepped out, she nearly stumbled to a halt abruptly at the sight before her.

George was seated on a bench on the terrace, his side to her as he puffed his cigar thoughtfully, seemingly lost in his own contemplations. The gardens stretched out before him, bathed in the soft glow of the evening light.

Emma slowly began to retreat, hoping to slip away before he noticed her presence. Just as she was about to fade into the salon, he turned up.

“Out here scheming to trap another poor soul, I see,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet night air. She froze.

CHAPTER 20

You are without mercy, George!

He turned toward Emma, his features half-shadowed by the night, the glow from his cigar casting a flickering light that made his expression even more inscrutable. Realizing that a confrontation was inevitable, Emma steadied herself.

“Should you not be up and fulfilling your protective duties then?” she asked, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. She refused to allow him to intimidate her or worsen the guilt already gnawing at her.

He rose slowly, extinguishing the cigar on an ash tray beside him. Standing fully, he towered over her, the fire in his eyes nearly tangible, reflecting a mix of anger and something else she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Would fulfilling my protective duties stop you from further machinations?” He challenged, his voice low and accusing.

He really did think the worst of her, Emma realized with a pang. Yet, she stood her ground, bolstered by the injustice of his accusation.

“There is only one way you can be certain of that,” she retorted, tilting her chin defiantly, refusing to cower under his scrutiny.

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