Page 5 of Her Wolf of a Duke

They came across a gentleman that was watching Sarah. He was relatively tall, not particularly muscular and was quite plain. There were no strongly discernible features to him, with the exception of the fact that he wore spectacles.

“William Mercer,” the gentleman greeted, bowing to the two of them. “The Right Honorable Baron Rosendale.”

Sarah curtseyed in return, but Emma was not so easily taken by the man. Sarah had always longed for a love match, and Emma was willing to do anything to assist in that, but it was still necessary for her to have protection and security, and that required more than such a title as baron.

Even so, he was a handsome man, and if it meant that Sarah could use it as a practice of some sort, then it would not be so bad.

“Miss Sarah Kendall,” Emma said for her.

“Truly, you are a remarkable beauty,” he smiled. “Might you sit next to me at dinner tonight?”

He certainly had confidence. Emma went to respond, but before she could, Sarah had already opened her mouth.

“It would be my pleasure,” she replied sweetly, and the gentleman nodded and walked away.

It was very uncommon for Sarah to respond so quickly. It had always been Emma’s duty to decide what was right for her sister, after all.

“Sarah!” she hissed. “Why on Earth did you do that?”

“I do not know. I panicked. I did not want to hurt his feelings.”

“No, which is why you leave it to me. Fear not, it is only to be one meal. We will find you better than a baron.”

“I am perfectly fine with his title, Sister. I am aware of the Mercers, and they are very wealthy. I would be well taken care of.”

“Then why did you have that look on your face?”

“What look?” she asked, quickly turning horrified. “Please do not tell me it was obvious. I would hate to have caused him any offence.”

“Not at all. I only noticed because I am your sister. I must ask, though, what you were thinking.”

“Well, there was no harm in it, truly. He simply does not look like the sort of man I thought I would marry.”

“Then we shall find you another. There is no harm in it.”

“I know, but I do not wish to judge him too harshly. Fortunately, it appears I shall be seeing him at dinner.”

Emma smiled fondly at her sister. She liked that her sister was kind, though she was concerned that such kindness might have been to her detriment at times. They continued on their way, but nobody truly caught Sarah’s eye. Though Emma tried not to mind too terribly, she had to admit that she was growing wary of her sister’s prospects. Should she hope to marry, she would have to find the right man soon. She was not yet twenty, but Emma had thought of herself as young and full of possibilities for far too long. And then the years slipped by and suddenly she was a spinster.

It had been a choice for her, but she did not want that for Sarah.

By the time dinner was announced, they had not found anyone to suit Sarah’s tastes. They went to the dining hall, marveling at the grandeur of it, and then an elegantly liveried servant led them to their seats. Emma had, of course, hoped to stay with Sarah, but there was only one seat beside the baron. Emma gave her a quick smile for luck before being led away to another part entirely. She looked at the table before her, an expensive oak one with a long red runner on top of it, and tried not to think about what Sarah would be doing. Instead, she counted the marking lines of the wood, whispering to herself.

“Are you trying to fall asleep?” came a deep voice.

Emma turned to her left to see the same devilishly handsome man from before, the Duke of Lupton. He had a friendly enough expression, but his large build made his presence a looking one, and it was not one that Emma had ever truly noticed in a man before.

“No, I was… well, I was counting the table markings, if you must know.”

“And here I thought the Duke of Pridefield always hosted the best parties.”

He was only saying it in jest, but she felt incredibly guilty nonetheless. She felt heat rising in her cheeks, which did not go away no matter how much she willed it to.

“You know,” he continued, “I do like a lady who blushes.”

She flushed even pinker, which made her furious with herself. It was a most unbecoming manner for a man to speak to a lady, but she could hardly say as much. She could not cause a scene, not when everyone in attendance knew her sister.

She turned away from him, facing forward. Across from her sat Miss Gretchen Winston, and she was scowling at her. Emma knew her well enough, given that she and Sarah were acquaintances, and from what she knew Gretchen was not the brightest young lady. She was known to be quite the fool, and that made her easy pickings should a gentleman ever want to… pluck Thankfully, it appeared that nobody did.

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