Page 49 of His Tempting Duchess

“It is,” Titus said, grinning. “I’ll stay here and keep Miss Belmont company.”

Emily glanced up in time to see Cassian’s expression darken. However, Corderoy would not be dissuaded. She grabbed his arm and tugged him away, leaving Emily and Titus Greaves alone.

Titus cleared his throat. “What do you think, then? Of this place, I mean.”

Emily paused before answering, glancing around the room.

There was something so warm and happy about the place. Nothing seemed to match—not the decorations, not the art, not the carpet or wall hangings or the wallpaper—and yet it alldidmatch, somehow. It all fit together. People gathered together in the most nonsensical groups, in all colors of clothing and styles of dress, entirely at ease with themselves and with each other.

In one corner, Emily spotted for the first time canvases stacked against the wall. A desk stood nearby, full of various paints, pencils, pens, and other drawing and painting supplies. A cluster of people stood nearby, inspecting one half-finished painting on a canvas and discussing it in low voices. Her fingers itched to pick up a paintbrush.

When was the last time I painted? The Season has just kept me so busy. There’s always some party or nonsense to attend, and I’m always so tired.

“These parties are one of the few places where people like us can really be ourselves,” Titus commented, leaning against the window seat that Corderoy had just vacated. “I never feel happier than when I’m in a place like this.”

“There’s certainly a magic about it,” Emily murmured. “I don’t know how I’ll manage going back to the stuffy Society parties after this.”

He chuckled, shifting a little closer. When Emily glanced up, she found him eyeing her thoughtfully.

“I never got the opportunity to apologize for the way we first met,” he said abruptly. “I saw in your eyes how distressed you were when I appeared, claiming credit for your work. I knew the details of the job when the duke first approached me, but I never thought much of it. But as soon as I saw the look in your eyes… well, I quite hated myself for it. I promise that I shall not impersonate you again, Miss Belmont.”

Emily laughed at that, shaking her head. “No offense was taken, I can promise you that. The duke is rather forceful, after all. Perhapspersuasiveis the word. He’s very good at getting his own way.”

“That is true,” Titus conceded. He was still watching her, a faint flush painted across his cheekbones. “Tell me, Miss Belmont—may I call you Emily?”

“I don’t see why not. Everyone is being informal here. I think I rather like it.”

He gave a nervous smile, shifting closer. “Emily, then. Lovely name, by the way. Tell me about your process.”

She frowned. “Process? What do you mean?”

“I mean with your art. Corderoy has to be at least two whiskies down before she can start writing. I have to take a moment to myself and recite three Shakespearean sonnets before I can fully immerse myself in a character. I couldn’t say why, only that that is the way it must be. What do you do to prepare yourself for painting?”

Emily gave a short, self-conscious laugh. “Why, nothing. I pick up a paintbrush or a pencil, and I just… I just begin. I like to have an idea of the scene I want to depict in my mind, of course, but I often change it as I go along.”

Titus nodded earnestly. “You are quite a talent, Miss Belmont.Emily. And a beauty too, if I may be so bold. The duke told us about yourAphrodite with Spectaclescostume, which would make a truly marvelous painting, don’t you think? I do wish I could have seen it.”

Emily laughed, not entirely sure what to make of this turn in conversation. Tituswasstaring at her a little too intently. She was just wondering whether she should make her excuses when he carefully laid a hand on her shoulder.

“I think you and I have a great deal in common, Emily,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on her.

Somebody cleared their throat nearby, and Titus leaped a foot in the air, withdrawing his hand from her shoulder as if it burned.

The duke stood there, his expression hard and steely. He carried a glass of whiskey in each hand. Behind him, a faintly amused Corderoy held another two glasses.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting,” he said sweetly.

Titus turned an interesting shade of red. Beet red, Emily thought, cataloging the color in her mind for later.

“N-No, of course not, Your Grace! I was just?—”

“Leaving,” Corderoy spoke up, fighting back a grin. “He was just leaving. Come on, Titus. You can take a look at the first chapter of my new book. Let’s leave the duke to entertain his guest, shall we?”

She cast a meaningful glance at Emily, which Emily could not quite interpret.

Still red-faced, Titus mumbled a goodbye and scurried across the room, with Corderoy at his heels.

That left Cassian and Emily alone.

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