Page 19 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

“Well, you switched the cards to team up with me. So we should work together,” she corrected, trying not to dwell on the fact that he was her original partner, and thatshehad been the one to make the initial switch.

“Well, you said it yourself just now, did you not, Emma?” He whisked the card away when she tried to reach for it again. “That I don’t play fair games,” he added, his voice low and teasing.

“It is no excuse to allow your lack of manners to rear its head at a time like this,” she returned sharply. And he chuckled, clearly enjoying their banter far more than she deemed appropriate.

“Now is precisely the time when I must act,” he said, a gleam of determination in his eyes. “I am not a man to let a good opportunity pass me by,” he added, his tone suggesting a challenge he relished.

As intolerable as he was, she found herself enjoying his company nonetheless. There was something about his audacity that intrigued her.

“Come,” he turned and began to walk away, his steps confident and sure.

“Where to?” She asked, skipping to keep up with his long strides despite herself.

“To the next clue,” he replied, not looking back, his focus fixed on the game ahead.

Emma suddenly felt a hand yank at her shawl as she walked, halting her abruptly. She turned to the sight of her scowling mother. She looked at Seymore and saw that he was a few paces ahead of her, and didn’t seem to notice her absence behind him just yet.

“You quickly find whatever means to pair yourself with the Earl before your father notices,” Caroline instructed, her voice low and urgent. “Otherwise, he’ll have both of our heads,” she added. And despite her displeasure, Emma saw fear in her mother’s eyes too.

With these words, Caroline let go of her hold on her shawl, and Emma proceeded to meet Seymore. But just then, she spied the Earl and his partner parting ways. Presumably to cover more ground, she thought.

An idea occurred to her.

“Keep up, keep up,” Seymore hollered when he turned and saw her way behind him, struggling to catch up.

“Why don’t we split up to cover more grounds? I think we will be faster in gathering all our clues then,” Emma suggested when she finally caught up to him.

“Good idea,” he agreed without arguments. Much to her surprise. But she had no complaints.

When they parted, Emma immediately headed in the direction of the Earl. “My Lord,” Emma acknowledged when she reached him.

“Miss Lovell,” Firman beamed. “I trust you are having a good time?” He asked. He was looking around a nearby tuft of grass for his own clues.

“Most enjoyable, My Lord,” she responded pleasantly as she positioned herself a little away from him, but making sure to remain directly, and in his full view as she pretended to look around some hedges.

She allowed a minute to pass before she let out a cry, and slumped onto the grass around, pretending to twist her ankle. She closed her eyes and clutched at the said body part in ostensible pain.

“Oh, Miss Lovell, are you all right?” the Earl’s voice held a tone of alarm in it as he quickly left his position.

Soon after, Emma felt strong arms circle around her, scooping her up from the ground. But something did not feel right as she was held. Or rather, something did notsmellright. The scent which suffused her senses was overly familiar.

She opened her eyes. Seymore was carrying her.

CHAPTER 9

George leaned close to Emma as he carried her back and whispered, “I know you are unhurt.” She pinned him with a deathly glare that could have frozen any other man in his tracks.

He’d had a feeling she was up to something. And he’d agreed to part ways with her to see what she had planned. The moment he saw her slump, he suspected, and rushed to get to her before Alexander could. He needed to save his friend from her clutches—or was it her mother’s clutches? He recalled the way the Baroness had yanked at her daughter earlier. George had pretended not to notice and trudged ahead to respect her privacy.

Maybe Emma wasn’t the villain, he wondered. After all, despite her protests earlier, she’d appeared content with their hunt, and only hatched this plan of hersafterspeaking to her mother.

“I cannot think of anything more hackneyed in getting a man’s attention than a feigned twisted ankle, Emma,” he couldn’t helpbut goad now. As annoyed as he was, he found himself curiously glad she was in his arms and not another man’s.

She neither took his bait nor argued her innocence. She simply accepted her fate in his arms as the others rushed to them, inquiring if she was all right. Alexander was at the fore.

“What happened?” His friend asked, concern creasing his features. George suddenly felt something prick at his insides. Alexander was not supposed to be this worried. Not about Emma. He had no right. A voice in his head pointed out how irrational he was being right now, and he quickly schooled his thoughts. He was acting quite odd lately.

“I think her ankle might be quite hurt,” George spoke for her, meeting and holding her gaze in silent communication. She gave him a look which promised future retribution. And he strangely found himself looking forward to paying for his so-called crimes.

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