Page 28 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
He had never wanted her to, had never sought her good opinion. He had told himself that he wanted as little to do with her as possible to better save himself from distraction.
And yet, seeing her smile with such unrestrained joy made the anger in his stomach bubble over. Anger at himself, because he had never once made her look like that.
Such foolish, complicated emotions.
“Emmeline,” he said curtly, striding toward her with a long gait. “There you are.”
Her smile didn’t dim as she looked at him, and that was another shock, to have the force of her beauty shining directly on him.
“Yes?”
“Where have you been?”
She frowned a little. “You know precisely where I have been. Visiting the village. And it was delightful. You never told me it was so picturesque.”
“Next time, you will take a maid with you.”
He knew he was being overly authoritative, heard the commanding tone of his voice, and knew she would protest against it, but he would not stand her leaving the house and potentially endangering herself.
Emmeline cast a brief glance at Mrs. Pentwhistle. “Is that so?”
“Your safety is no laughing matter.”
For the first time, her gaze traveled up his riding attire, and her eyebrows rose. “Tell me, My Lord Duke, were you about to go riding?”
“It’s almost dark, and you had not returned.”
A dimple popped in her cheek. “And you wereworried?”
“Send a maid to my wife’s room,” he said to Mrs. Pentwhistle instead of answering.
If they were going to argue again, he was damned if they were going to do so in front of the servants. If they were going to gossip, he would do his best to minimize what they gossiped about.
Emmeline said nothing as Mrs. Pentwhistle, understanding she was dismissed, curtsied and left. Adam took Emmeline’s arm and led her into the house, bringing her into his study and shutting the door carefully behind them. His anger rose, along with the frustration that she did not seem to understand the gravity of the situation.
“I know you wish to provoke me,” he said, not facing her in case her smile—or lack thereof—disarmed him, “but I will not budge on matters of personal safety.”
“I was perfectly safe.”
“So you believe, but a lone woman wandering about is rarely safe.” He turned back to face her and found her examining the contents of his desk.
“If we are to argue, may I have a glass?” she asked, holding up the decanter.
Before he could answer, she poured herself a tumbler and took a sip. From the grimace she barely held back, it was her first time, and some of his anger drained at the sight.
She was doing her best to irritate him, but she was just a young lady. A sheltered young lady who, despite her best attempts at the contrary, was hopelessly naïve.
His body stirred at the idea that she was his and they were alone. There was a number of things he could do to her. The desk seemed a particularly appealing option, but he could also have her against the wall, or even on the floor before the fire. The ashes had burnt down, but he could light them again to warm her naked skin.
He blinked and found her watching him with raised eyebrows. She still held the tumbler in one hand.
“Well?” she asked. “Are we not to argue?”
He cleared his throat. “You are not to leave the estate without a chaperone.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” She took another sip, her wince smaller this time. “I will do as I please. I’m not an unmarried lady any longer. I have every right to move about the countryside as I choose.”
“Then you will at least take a carriage.”
