Page 35 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

They walked in silence for a while. The silence between them was comfortable, yet charged with something unspoken between them. After a few moments, Emma broke the silence. “What are we doing, George? One moment we are in agreement, and the next we are arguing as if the earth is too small for us to coexist.”

George couldn’t help but tease her. “Perhaps it is too small for us.”

Emma looked at him, and his breath caught. She was stunning, her features illuminated by the moonlight, and he struggled to resist her pull. She smiled. “If the earth is too small, perhaps we should conquer it together.”

George laughed softly, his tension easing. “That sounds like a plan fraught with peril.”

“Indeed, but we are both rather adept at navigating peril, are we not?”

“Speak for yourself, Miss Lovell,” George retorted. “I am a model of caution and restraint.”

Emma chuckled. “Is that so? I seem to recall a certain gentleman climbing a tree to rescue a kitten years ago. Olivia told me.”

George feigned indignation. “That was a noble act of heroism, I’ll have you know.”

“Of course,” Emma agreed, her eyes dancing with amusement. “And the fact that you fell and landed in a rose bush only added to your valor.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You are incorrigible, Emma.”

“And you are infuriating, George,” she retorted.

“For now, let us enjoy the peace of the night.”

“I agree that we should,” she said softly. Then she glanced at him, curiosity in her eyes. “But where are you taking me?”

He chuckled. “I am not taking you anywhere,” he said playfully.

Emma glanced over her shoulder, then back at him, a wry smile on her lips. “We are out of the gardens and leaving the manor behind,” she pointed out.

George smiled. “An adventure awaits us beyond the manor,” he teased.

Emma laughed. “Have you always been so adventurous, George?”

No, you bring out that trait in me.George was behaving in ways that contradicted his very nature, and he was not sure whether he would win the battle against his inclination toward Emma. Her pull was too strong—like a forest creature meant to draw him in and keep him there for all time.

“I have always been cautious,” he admitted.

She was quiet for a long moment, her steps slowing slightly. “I am cautious too,” she said softly. “And obedient.”

George wondered if there was a deeper meaning to her words, suspecting there was but unable to guess. He nudged her shoulder playfully. “Obedient? You?”

Emma’s eyes sparkled then. “I can be obedient when I choose.”

He laughed. “Thank you for correcting yourself—when you choose.”

They arrived at a small lake, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. Fireflies danced above the water, their tiny lights creating a magical scene.

Emma smiled, her face enchanted by the sight. “It looks like it is from a storybook,” she whispered, awe in her voice.

George nodded, his gaze fixed on her. “It looks like it is from a dream,” he said softly.

She turned to him suddenly, her eyes searching his. “Do you dream, George?”

He did not answer, unable to trust anyone to carry his dreams. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “We should return before it gets too late and too cold.”

She frowned, evidently surprised by his sudden distance. He walked her back to the manor. As they reached the servants’ entrance, he lingered, holding her hand a moment longer than necessary.

“Good night, George,” she said softly, her eyes holding his.

---