Page 67 of Her Wolf of a Duke

Emma thought for a moment. She was pleased that it would not be red, as given her delicate reputation it was for the best that she avoided such a provocative color. She thought about Dorothy’s bright yellow and orange gowns, and shuddered. They were a duke and a duchess, two members of thetonthat were destined to shine, but that did not mean that they needed to dress garishly.

“Green,” she settled. “It is a favorite of mine.”

“Wonderful. Green it is. I have plenty of suits in such a color, and so we shall always pair nicely. Have as many made as you wish.”

“Are you quite certain? I do not mean to bother you with the price.”

“I told you, you are not to concern yourself with that. You are my Duchess, and therefore you will live accordingly. It is only gowns. I shall ensure the modiste is told the same thing if I must, so that you cannot avoid it.”

“Your Grace–”

“Levi.”

“Levi,” she corrected herself, “I do not want to be a burden.”

“Then it is just as well that I do not perceive you as one. Emma, there are more important matters than your gowns and how many I must pay for. Believe me, we have ample funds.”

“I know, and I do not mean to suggest otherwise. I suppose it is simply because I am aware that my father did not give you my dowry. I do not even know if I ever had one.”

“We never discussed it. I have no need for it, and nor do you. A man like your father would only remind you of it at every opportunity, and so I do not want to give him the option to. We do not need him. You do not need him.”

Emma already knew that, of course, for she had not needed him for many years. Her family had, essentially, only been herself and her sister, and they had liked it well enough that way. She hoped that her sister was not too lonely without her, but she would be able to ask her that herself at the ball.

She nodded to Levi, thanking him. His only response was that she had no need to thank him, for he was only doing his duty. Emma wished that, rather than it being his duty, it was because he simply wanted to be good to her, but she did not say as much. He was doing the right things, and she couldn’t expect him to be perfect and do it for the right reasons.

They continued to talk, and soon enough it was their final course. Part of Emma had hoped that the dinner would not end, as she knew what would happen when it did. Levi would return to his study, and she would be alone once more. She enjoyed his presence, and she did not want him to leave.

To her surprise, he did not leave her when they had finished. Instead, he led her to the parlor room and handed her a drink. She looked at her glass, and then at him, with a furrowed brow.

“You need not worry,” he chuckled. “It is not whiskey this time.”

“It is not that,” she sighed, taking a sip of her virtuously unaltered lemonade.

“Then what is it?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to join me after dinner, that is all. It is a welcome surprise, though, believe me.”

“Then I will stay,” he nodded, taking a seat. “Perhaps you might play the pianoforte for me?”

She bristled slightly at that.

“I have not played in years. I simply taught Sarah what I knew and then never tried again.”

“Then there is no better time to try it again. Please, I will not pass any judgment.”

Emma nodded shyly, finishing her glass and approaching it tentatively. Sarah had quickly surpassed her with her playing, and Emma had forgotten how to play almost entirely. She reached out to the keys, and played a few notes of a songshe vaguely remembered, but that was all that she could do. She paused, wondering what Levi would think of her, but then she heard footsteps approaching, and suddenly he was standing behind her, his hands covering hers.

“Have I ever told you that I learned how to play?” he asked, grinning.

“No, you have never mentioned it.”

“Well,” he continued, sitting beside her, “I did not have much to do as a boy, and so I decided to learn. It took a very long time, and fortunately I had a tutor that knew how to do it, so he helped me.”

She removed her hands, and he played for a while. He was good, far better than anyone else she had ever heard. She looked at the look of concentration in his face, his eyes closed as his hands glided across the keys and played the most beautiful song, one she had never heard before. He continued for a while, his eyes only opening when he had finished.

When he looked at her, her eyes wide, he seemed to panic a little, as though he had forgotten that she was there at all. She giggled at that, her expression softening. She placed his hands over his, and though she felt herself shaking she did not move them away again.

“Would you mind playing again?” she asked. “I would like to know how it feels to play well.”

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