Page 11 of Her Wolf of a Duke

Emma bit into a segment, the juice fizzing on her tongue. It was far tastier than any orange she had ever eaten, a sunny sweetness that lifted her dour mood for a moment.

“My word,” she said through a bite. “These are wonderful!”

“Emma!” Cecilia nudged.

“Oh, must I tell you?”

“Yes. You must.”

“Very well,” she sighed, “I heard him out in the gardens with another young lady, unchaperoned. He wanted to ensure that I wasn’t going to tell a soul what happened.”

It wasn’t quite the truth, but it was a version that they would accept and wouldn’t question her too much about, which was ideal for her purposes. She had very little interest in discussing it all any further.

“Did you see who the lady was?” Beatrice gasped. “Surely she saw you too. She must be terrified.”

“She… certainly did not react as I had expected. Then again, she could well have been in shock. It is an awful thing to happen, after all.”

“You are too forgiving,” Cecilia said bluntly. “It is about time that you told people precisely what you think.”

“Believe me, I did. That Duke shan’t forget what I told him for a long time.”

And yet, she was quite convinced that he already had, that he hadn’t even listened to her in the first place. Whether she liked it or not, he was a man with a powerful position in society, and no matter what she said or did, she wouldn’t change that. He could go on to do exactly as he pleased, as she assumed he had always done, and nobody would stop him.

As she laid in her bed, struggling to sleep, she wished Sarah was with her. They often had long discussions into the night, and she longed to tell her about the horrid Duke and then in turn hear about the Baron she had seemingly fallen for. Instead, she would have to wait for a chance moment to pull her aside, as their father seemed quite set on their separation.

Eventually, she fell asleep, but she awoke early the following morning with a terrible headache. She tried to ignore it, dressing for breakfast and going downstairs. She took her seat and realized, too late, that the Duke had been telling her the truth the previous night. She jumped when she saw him.

“Fear not,” he said in a mockingly brave tone, “I am not a phantom. I am but a man, plain and simple.”

A man indeed, and one she couldn’t stand at that.

Emma did not know what to say to the Duke the following morning, and so she said nothing at all.

She ate her breakfast in silence, though he made a few attempts to speak with her. Instead, she listened to his conversation withGretchen, as the young lady was more than happy to speak with him.

“Your Grace, you look lovely this morning.”

“Thank you, Miss Winston,” he replied, “though I must admit that I have a terrible headache.”

Emma thought he might be mocking her, but then had to accept that he couldn’t possibly have known that she had such an ailment that morning. He was a villain enough without her adding to it.

“That is terrible!” Gretchen said kindly. “Perhaps you over-indulged last night?”

“Perhaps.”

“Which may suggest that you do not remember what happened at last night’s event. That is quite a shame.”

“Yes, in all honesty, I have no recollection at all.”

The Duke smiled kindly at Gretchen, and Emma noticed a glimmer of something other than gratitude in her eye.

“Well,” she continued, looking directly at Emma, “I suppose you remember everything completely?”

“No, I do not believe so. I was with my friends all evening as far as I can remember, and should anything out of the ordinary have happened I am quite certain that I would not have forgotten it.”

Gretchen’s sour look, the one Emma noticed she always had when addressing her, was evident. Thankfully, the meal came to an end and she no longer had to partake in it. She did not care what happened after the fact, only that she had prevented a terrible outcome. She went to the parlor room, where her friends were waiting, and then they all left to explore the estate. Dorothy gave her a tour of the grounds, giving little pieces of information as if it were her own estate. Emma wondered just how she had acquired all of this information, but then it was hardly out of the ordinary for her friend to research such things in advance.

“Emma,” Beatrice said quietly after a while, “How are you feeling this morning?”

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