Page 78 of Dukes Do It Better
All this gold, and the only thing of actual value had just left, taking a baby goat in a nappy with her.
Chapter Twenty-One
I feel bad for you sometimes. On days like today, when the sun is brilliant in the sky, and A— is a ball of laughter and smiles, and all seems right in the world. You’re missing it. I hope you don’t miss all of these days. I hope you come along while he still wants to cuddle and show you magic rocks he found in the garden.
—Journal entry, July 9, 1824
Somewhere on the other side of death, her father was laughing at her. Emma picked up her hem and scurried up the rocky trail toward the top of the cliff, Billy tagging along behind.
Could those in the Great Beyond, or heaven, or hell, or whatever awaited everyone, hear her? Had her father known when she determined to have a life different from his? She’d decided she would live the opposite way he had, change where he hadn’t, and embrace honesty.
Then look what happened. A literal treasure hoard fell in her lap, her ex-lover showed up offering a ducal coronet and a house, and all she had to do to accept it all was to tell him she loved him.
Father wouldn’t have hesitated. Mother would have jumped at the chance.
Which told her she needed to pause. Especially after deliberately shying away from examining her emotions when it came to Mal. Besides, the drastic swing from calling him a rat bastard to him on his knees proposing marriage was a bit much, even for her allegedly dramatic nature.
Time was called for here. And if that big beautiful man back there who’d poured his heart out loved her now, then he’d love her tomorrow. Or next week. Or however long it took her to figure out how she felt about him beyond lust and like.
She tugged the kitchen door behind her, leaving the top half open to the breeze. A dark head was barely visible cresting the top of the cliff, so Mal would be along shortly.
“Did the handsome gent find you, then? I told him you were on the beach,” Mrs. Shephard said.
“Yes, he found me. He’ll be staying in the extra room upstairs. Has Alton already greeted our guest?”
“The boy went to gather eggs with Polly and missed the arrival, I think. You’re sure you want a man like that in the extra room? He looks like he might get cold all by himself.” The cook sent Emma a saucy wink, making her laugh.
“You’re a bad influence, although I appreciate the sentiment. He’s proposed, but I need to think on it.”
“Nothing says you can’t lay on it and think on it at the same time. Not when he looks like that.” Mrs. Shephard went silent when footsteps beyond the door interrupted their conversation. In an instant, she transformed into the formidable domestic goddess she was. “Wipe your feet before you come in my kitchen!”
Emma covered a grin with her hand. Should she tell Mrs. Shephard she’d yelled at a duke? No, that would ruin the fun. To her delight, Mal responded with a polite, “Yes, Mrs. Shephard,” then wiped his boots and dusted the sand off his breeches and sleeves.
Mal held up his hands for inspection and the cook nodded. “You’ll do. Mrs. Hardwick made ginger biscuits this morning for the lad. Missus, if you’d like to change, our guest can wait in the parlor and I’ll bring refreshments.”
Emma bit her lip and led Mal out of the kitchen.
In the hall, he whispered, “Should I have saluted? I feel like I should have saluted.”
The laugh burst free. “Go through there and wait. I’ll only be a minute.”
He opened the door to the parlor and paused. “There’s a goat in here. But I don’t think it’s the same one, unless someone changed his nappy.”
“Red nappy? That’s Lily. She will want to sit in your lap, but watch your cravat. She’s fond of linen.”
“Of course she is,” she heard him mutter as she climbed the stairs.
Changing into a plain day dress and brushing her hair free of tangles after an afternoon under the cap prepared her to deal with Mal and the emotions he brought with him. She drew her hair over her shoulder into a braid and tied the end with a ribbon. It felt like a sort of defiance to not primp in front of the mirror for her suitor. The headmistress at Saint Albans would have a fit if she knew one of her former pupils would greet a duke in such a manner. Emma grinned ruefully at the reflection in the mirror before leaving the room.
Mrs. Shephard met her in the hall with the coffee tray. “I’m on my way in, I’ll get it,” Emma said.
The cook whispered, “I heard him talking to the goat. I like this one.”
Sure enough, when Emma pushed the door all the way open, Mal was sitting on the sofa with Lily in his lap contentedly gnawing on his unwound cravat. The deeply tanned column of his neck momentarily distracted her. How long had she spent licking and kissing the skin usually covered by his cravat? And how long before she could do it again? Mal made a motion to rise, but Emma waved him off. “Don’t get up. She looks comfortable.”
“You were right about the cloth. But she’s so happy about her destruction, I gave up and just gave it to her.”
“Lily’s finicky about fabric. Likes clothing, but won’t touch the upholstery or curtains, thank God. Otherwise, I’d have to find a way to keep her out of the house, which would present a challenge. She and Billy are determined to wander at will. Thankfully, Leonard is content to stay outside and dominate the chickens.”
