Page 8 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

Emma had to admit that it was not a formal seating arrangement. If it were, she would not have been able to see the Earl or the Duke, much less converse with them. She felt a jolt of defiance; she had never tried to impress her parents, muchless live up to their unrealistic expectations. “Are you not happy I was seated near them?”

Her mother glared at her. “Do pinch some color into your cheeks and make yourself more presentable before rejoining civilization,” Caroline instructed sharply. “And meet me in the conservatory in a moment,” she added as like an afterthought.

“Conservatory?” Emma echoed in surprise, her brow furrowing. “Whatever for?”

“Meet me there and you will find out,” her mother responded impatiently.

“But Mother?—”

“No questions! The conservatory,now! Wait for me there.” Her mother’s voice brooked no argument, effectively silencing any further protest.

Emma did as she was told, her steps echoing softly as she made her way to the place. The space was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the gentle glow of the moon that filtered through the glass. The tranquil sound of water trickling from a fountain nearby filled the air, adding to the serene yet eerie atmosphere.

As she wandered deeper into the lush surroundings, her foot accidentally kicked something small and hard. It clattered noisily across the stone floor. Curious, she squinted through the dim light and bent down to retrieve the object. It was alovely brooch, ornate and sparkling even in the limited light. She wondered to whom it might belong; surely some lady at the party was missing this beautiful piece of jewelry.

Opening her reticule, which was securely strapped to her wrist, Emma placed the brooch inside. She resolved to find its owner and return it once the evening’s more pressing matters were attended to.

Her thoughts wandered to her mother’s unusual insistence as she took in her lush, verdant surroundings. The foliage seemed almost to crowd around her, making the glass-encased room feel smaller, more intimate.

Just then, a shadow moved behind her. Emma turned swiftly, expecting to see her mother, but instead, she found herself staring at the silhouette of a gentleman. It was too dark to discern his features clearly, but his build was imposing—a presence too significant to be anyone of lesser stature.

Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, chilling in their newfound context:Pinch some color into your cheeks and make yourself presentable… Meet me in the conservatory in a moment. The realization that this might be orchestrated by her parents hit her with a wave of revulsion. The unpleasant taste of betrayal filled her mouth as she considered that they might indeed be using this moment to push her toward someone, likely for their own gain.

Could it be the Earl? The figure bore a striking resemblance to him. If so, this was a deliberate plan, and she was meant to seizethis opportunity to further her parents’ ambitions. A knot of discomfort tightened in her stomach.

The gentleman was leaning over a cluster of some small potted plants and appeared oblivious to her presence. Emma didn’t want to do this. She thought of sneaking away, but an apprehensive voice in her head reminded her of the Marquess of Neads. What if this was the only opportunity she would have during this party? What if she forfeited it and doomed herself to a life with Neads?

At this instant, she didn’t know what was worse. She only knew that what she was about to do, what her parents wanted her to do, was utterly wrong.

Emma approached the gentleman. The Earl. When she was less than an arm’s length away from him, she raised her hand. Something crunched underneath her shoes, and given her already nervous state, she started. This alerted him to the presence in the room, and he swiveled from the potted plants.

Emma was further perturbed by how close he was and the sheer intimidating size of him before her. She tried to take a step back, only to trip over a potted plant. Arms came firmly around her, catching her fall and holding her against a strong chest. She still couldn’t make out his features in the darkness. But something about him was very familiar. No doubt it was the Earl.

Emma’s thoughts were in upheaval as she scrambled to collect them. Still, an untamed voice in her head pointed out:This is your opportunity, girl. Remember, it’s either this, or Neads…

Fear and desperation gripped her, and she felt her hands suddenly do the thinking for her now. They traveled up to the man’s jaw, cupping it tentatively. He pulled her even closer to him. Then his face lowered to hers. Emma’s breath caught. Was he going to kiss her?

“I didn’t realize you harbored such feelings for me, Miss Lovell.” His voice was familiar. Excessively so. “Is that why you made such a scene about Olivia keeping my company earlier?”

Seymore!

CHAPTER 4

Emma gasped and nearly pushed him away in shock.You’re not the Earl?She nearly said aloud.

“You!” her voice couldn’t be more accusing now. “You tricked me!”

“I saved you from breaking a leg,” he countered.

Where she was utterly flustered, he appeared completely calm and unperturbed. “Were you expecting someone else then? Did I perhaps interrupt a planned tryst?” he asked, his curiosity palpable, a slight teasing tone in his voice that did nothing to alleviate Emma’s growing discomfort.

“I need to leave,” she blurted before quickly turning on her heels and practically running out of the dark conservatory. The warm air in the hallway touched her face as she emerged, providing a small relief from the stifling tension inside.

She nearly collided with her parents. “Emma—” her mother began, her voice filled with concern and a hint of suspicion.

“The Earl was supposed to be there, but Seymore ruined things…” Her father whispered in agitation. Her parents tried to question her, but she was in no mood for their inquiries. “Not now,” she managed to say, her voice firm yet weary.

Leaving them, she turned at the end of the hallway and hurried without thinking where she was going. They followed her, relentless in their mission. As she passed an open room, she heard a voice say, “I could have sworn I had my brooch on me earlier.” Emma recalled the brooch she’d found.Perfect timing, she thought. The heavens seemed in her favor tonight. What better excuse to avoid a further interrogation from her parents?

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