Page 68 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
“Oh, Emmeline.” He laughed in relief. “I thought you must have been some terrible ghost from the past come to haunt me.”
“That is no great compliment,” she teased, coming forward. “What are you doing out here so late?”
Although it was difficult to see with the light of the candle, it looked as though his face paled.
“As to that—” He gave an awkward, nervous laugh. “Well, as it happens, I was—I was looking for a portrait of my father.”
Emmeline frowned at him. “A portrait? I believe there is one in the gallery.”
“Ah, yes, the gallery.” He coughed awkwardly. “It appears I wasn’t thinking.”
“And,” she suggested gently, a little confused, “it would probably be more sensible if you were to look during the day.”
Rickard scratched the back of his neck. “Yes, quite. That would be sensible. I suppose I just had a thought in my head and I got carried away, thinking I needed to do it now, but it would be better to wait until morning.” He gave her a rueful smile, but the hand holding the candle trembled a little. “What are you doing out here?”
“Looking for one of the cats,” she said. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”
“Which one? That is to say, what color?”
“The white one,” she said with a laugh. “Snow.”
“Ah. No, I don’t believe I’ve seen him.” Nervousness receding, he offered her a quick bow. “Perhaps I might be of assistance? I might as well, seeing as I’m here anyway.”
“I’m just going to Adam’s study,” she said, leading the way and holding her lamp aloft. “Snow likes to curl up on his desk. Why, I have never known, but I don’t suppose felines are particularly known for their logic.”
“No,” Rickard said from behind her. “I don’t suppose they are. And neither are humans, on occasion,” he muttered so quietly that she could have deceived herself into thinking she hadn’t heard him.
How odd.
They approached Adam’s study, and she pushed the door open, only to be confronted with the sight of Nicholas standing in the middle of the room, an oil lamp in his hand and a confused expression on his face as he looked at her.
“Heavens,” she said, jumping backward in fright. “It seems everyone is out tonight. What areyoudoing here, Nicholas?”
“I dropped my pocket watch here,” he said shortly, his gaze flicking from her to Rickard. “What are you both doing here?”
“Looking for Snow,” she said. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”
“The cat,” Rickard clarified.
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “And you just so happened to be looking together?”
Ice trickled down Emmeline’s throat, and she folded her arms. “Excuse me? What are you implying?”
“I’m implying that I don’t like seeing the wife of my best friend in the company of another gentleman at night,” Nicholas said, his gaze fixed on Rickard.
“How dare you?” she said, anger burning away her shock and the chill that his implication had brought. “Howdareyou? I stumbled across Rickard on my way here, and he offered to help me look for Snow, but even if that were not the case—even if we were coming here together to find something for Adam—I resent the suggestion that something untoward is happening.” She stepped closer, raising her chin. “You have no right to imply that I am anything other than loyal to my husband, especially given your distinct lack of evidence.”
She shook her head, noting that Snow was not visible, and neither was the pocket watch. “If that was the first place your mind went to, Nicholas, then perhaps you ought to look at the state of your marriage, not mine.”
With that, she turned and stormed past Rickard, who was motionless, no doubt as shocked at the accusations as she was.
By the time she made it to Adam’s room, however, some of her ire had cooled, and suspicion replaced it. Nicholas had obviously thought there was something untoward occurring, but had she not thought the same thing when she had seen Rickard walking down the corridor?
“What is it?” Adam asked the moment she entered the room. “Emmeline?” He was at her side in an instant, cupping her face. “Did something happen to one of the cats?”
“No, nothing like that.” Falteringly, unsure how he would react, she related the events of the evening. “No doubt Nicholas is going to tell you that Rickard and I were together, but we would not have been if I did not find him walking there, alone,” she said. “And his reason struck me as odd. Who looks for a portrait in the wrong part of the castle at night?”
Adam gave her a long look. “Do you suspect him? Of what?”
