Page 8 of Her Wolf of a Duke

“Of course,” he replied brightly. “As you wish, Miss Kendall.”

Why, she thought, does he refuse to argue with me?

Thankfully, however, the crisis had been averted. She would tell Gretchen to be careful and there would be no harm done.

Then she saw Gretchen’s scowl again.

CHAPTER 3

Granted, Emma had not expected immense gratitude for what she had done—perhaps mortification instead, but she hadn’t expected outright fury.

“Gretchen, you do not understand,” she explained. “Gentlemen like that–”

“What you do not understand, Emma, is that there are some things that you need not meddle in.”

“I am not meddling. I am trying to help you.”

“Well, you are not helping at all. I know you spinsters have nothing else to do, but that does not give you the right to ruin things for others. Perhaps, instead of being yet another bitter spinster, it might be better for you to find a nice old man in there and marry him before you age beyond all hope.”

Without waiting for a response, Gretchen stormed back inside. Emma remained still for a moment, steadying herself. It was just as well that Gretchen did not stay with her, for Emma was quite certain that the reminder that there were but five years between them might have been too much for the young lady to bear.

She rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the situation, though she had to admit that it hurt a little. Once again, she had tried to help only for it to not have been the right thing to do. She shook her head. Ithadbeen the right thing to do; she had saved the young lady from ruin, and regardless of what Gretchen thought about it she did not regret her actions at all. She had done what she had to do.

Steeling herself, she returned to the drawing room. She could see Gretchen in the corner, her face like thunder, but she did not go to her and press the matter. She was likely embarrassed, and Emma did not wish to make it any worse. Instead, she returned to her friends, as she would not be allowed to see Sarah for the rest of the night.

“There you are!” Beatrice smiled. “Are you feeling better?”

“Very much so, yes. Now, perhaps you might all tell me what you did today?”

“Oh, Emma, the greenhouse was spectacular! Would you believe it, the Duke has an orangery I have never seen one in person. It was full of oranges, and even more citrus! Oh, I could spend hours in there.”

“Was it… orange?”

“There were oranges inside of it,” Dorothy explained, “And other citrus fruits.”

Emma nodded, feeling quite ridiculous for not knowing what an orangery was. Then again, Beatrice always liked when she could explain things she knew a lot about, so she tried not to be too hard on herself.

“And,” she whispered, leaning close, “you mustn’t tell anyone, but we shared one of each fruit between us!”

“Without me? The nerve of you all!” she joked in response.

“We saved you some, of course. It is in my room. We can go and get it now, if you like.”

Frankly, Emma knew that after all of the events of the day, if she were to go anywhere near a bed she would crawl beneath its covers and sleep. However, she did wish to try the fruits, especially if they had pleased Beatrice.

Before they could leave, though, Emma felt a tap on her shoulder. She thought it might be her father, and her heart pounded in her chest as she wondered just what he would have to say to her. When she turned, however, she saw that it was none other than the Duke of Lupton.

“Again?” she asked without thinking.

Her friends stared at her.

“Might you accompany me on a turn around the room?” he asked.

She could hear the whispers of her friends behind her, but she refused to dignify them. She wanted to try her orange, but she also could tell from how the gentleman was looking at her that he would not rest until he had gotten his way. It would be easier, she considered, to give him what he wanted and then leave it there.

“One turn,” she nodded, taking his arm before turning to the ladies. “I will join you shortly.”

“You do not know where my room is!”

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