Page 39 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

“I must say, the Earl has quite the keen eye for art,” Emma remarked, admiration creeping into her voice despite her troubled thoughts.

“Alexander?” Olivia snorted, a playful smirk crossing her features. Emma’s brow lifted in surprise. What other Earl could Olivia possibly mean?

“My brother cannot appreciate art to save his life,” Olivia clarified, laughter tinting her words. “George acquired them,” she revealed, her tone shifting to one of fond amusement.

“Oh,” Emma exhaled softly, taken aback. Her eyes returned to the paintings, and a pang of something akin to sadness tugged at her heart, knowing now whose taste had selected these pieces.

“George is the connoisseur here. He always has been, since childhood,” Olivia continued, her voice swelling with the pride of a younger sister. “Our late mama always said he was like a bird who saw color in everything and everyone. He had quite the free spirit, you see. He still does,” she added fondly, her eyes glinting with memories.

Alas, Emma thought, a bittersweet feeling washing over her as she recalled George’s cold, almost venomous gaze earlier that morning. Despite his affinity for seeing color in everything, he seemed to see none in her. How could such a man, who appreciated beauty and depth in art, look at her with such disdain? The contradiction pained her.

How Emma longed not only to alter his view but to transform the entirety of his feelings for her, and perhaps even influence his reputation in society and his sworn bachelorhood. It was a daunting wish, yet it tugged at her heart with relentless persistence.

“You speak of the Duke as you would an older brother,” Emma observed, hearing the curiosity and wistfulness in her tone.

“Why, there is no difference. I hold him in just as much regard. We all do,” Olivia responded, her voice rich with affection. “George and Alexander are my brothers, and I wouldn’t change them for the world,” she added, her words flowing with a fervor that spoke of deep familial bonds.

Hearing Olivia speak with such warmth, Emma felt a pang of emotion tighten around her chest. The stark contrast betweenOlivia’s cherished relationships and her own familial struggles was poignant. What had she done, or not done, to be deprived of such love in her life? She thought of Aggie’s letter, recalling how her friend had spoken of her husband and family with equal adoration.

Emma inwardly resigned at that moment. Perhaps love simply was not written in the heavens for her. Olivia suddenly looped her arm through Emma’s.

“What do you say we have some tea brought up here? I am quite reluctant to join Aunt Jane and the ladies in the drawing room.”

Emma mustered a smile. “Is embroidery draining your spirits, dear friend?”

Olivia winced, guiding Emma to a sitting area near the fireplace. “It is not so much the embroidery as it is the company. All the ladies ever talk about is the coming season.”

“I know precisely what you mean,” Emma returned, then added under her breath, “At least, your aunt and brother do not expect you to find a husband this season.”

Olivia walked to the bell near the door and pulled it. As she walked back to Emma, she asked, “Is that what your parents are asking of you, Emma?”

Emma felt her eyes widen. “I did not think you heard that.”

Olivia sat beside her and smiled softly. “I have very sharp ears, and I have noticed that you seem quite distressed as of late.”

Emma dropped her face into her hands and sighed. “Am I this incapable of concealing my feelings?”

“No, dear Emma.” Olivia touched her shoulder. “I am too observant for my own good. George hates it.”

Please, do not mention George.

“He says I might find myself in trouble if I witness something I should not,” Olivia continued, and Emma raised her head, her chest feeling constricted. “Something scandalous.”

The mention of scandal brought to Emma’s mind George’s reputation. She wondered why he was treating her so coldly when he was not better himself. He was a rake, and one who would never protect a woman’s reputation.

Do you know all the facts, Emma?her mind prodded.

“Olivia, forgive my impertinence. I have come to know George to be quite different from what society thinks of him.” Olivia’s shoulders straightened as she listened to Emma. “There is no truth in the scandal he was involved in, is there?”

Olivia was about to answer when a knock came. They looked up to see a footman in the doorway. He bowed politely. “You called, My Ladies?”

“Please, have some tea and biscuits brought here,” Olivia instructed. When they were alone again, she turned to Emma, her expression serious. “Women of thetonare vicious creatures, and they will say and do anything to trap a man with George’s wealth and title. Even Alex is not safe.”

Olivia’s words struck Emma like a blow, and she had to lower her eyes to keep her composure. She still did not know the truth about George’s scandal, but this was no longer about him. It was about the fact that she was one of those vicious women of the ton.

“Emma?” She felt Olivia’s gentle hand on hers and looked up. “Are you well? Is it your parents?”

Perhaps it was time for Emma to confide in a friend other than Antoinetta. “They have grown weary of my search, and this season will be my third.”

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