Page 11 of A Duke Reformed
Andrew's smile waned and he shook his head. "You make it sound so simple."
"Oh, well." Solomon sighed. "It's far from that."
As the auctioneer called for the next contender to present their proposal, Solomon straightened his shoulders, his concentration narrowing to a razor's edge.He waited his turn and as soon as he turned in his proposal, he said goodbye to Andrew and made his way back to his estate.
Once Solomon stepped into the grand foyer of his estate,he began unbuttoning his coat, ready to call it a day. The faint scent of beeswax and polished wood greeted him as he handed his hat and gloves to the butler, who stood waiting.
"Welcome home, Your Grace," the butler said, bowing. "A letter arrived for you earlier this afternoon. I took the liberty of placing it on the hall table."
"A letter?" Solomon frowned. "From whom?"
"It was addressed to you from Lockhart," he answered.
Lockhart...
"Ah," Solomon gasped. "That would be the Viscount's residence... The Lockhart residence?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
Solomon nodded, his gaze flicking to the small silver tray where the letter lay. He had not expected a letter from Emma, but he was pleased that she had taken initiative.
"Thank you, Jeffries," he said, picking up the letter as he began to climb the staircase toward his study.
He broke the seal as he walked, unfolding the letter. The first thing he noted was how elegant Emma's handwriting was. He could almost hear her voice as he read.
"His Grace, the Duke of Montclaire,
I trust this letter finds you in good health and spirits.
As per our previous discussion, I have taken the liberty of arranging our first lesson in etiquette for tomorrow evening at your residence. Shall we say five o'clock? I trust your staff will ensure the drawing room is prepared for our purposes.
I look forward to our discourse and trust it will prove enlightening.
Yours sincerely,
Miss Emma Lockhart."
Solomon scoffed. "So direct," he mumbled, folding the letter back and tucking it gently into his pocket.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ishouldn't be here... Great heavens, what was I thinking?
Emma sat at the edge of the chair, in the drawing room, contemplating if it was best to just leave. The evening had settled over Montclaire Estate like a heavy cloak and the sky outside deepening into shades of indigo as the first stars began to appear. It was late and she in a man's home without a chaperone... not like she'd need one.
Don't say it... don't say it...
After her agreement with Solomon, Emma had decided not to think of herself as a spinster anymore. She had a good chance of settling down since Solomon had given her the opportunity to pay for both her and Cecilia's dowries. There was a chance for her, and the last thing she wanted was to taint it by thinking of herself as unmarriable.
Before she could second-guess herself further, the sound of footsteps echoed from just outside the room. Emma turned, her breath catching slightly as Solomon entered the room.
"Miss Lockhart," he said and placed both hands on his hips. "Thank you for coming."
Emma rose and curtsied. "You don't have to thank me, Your Grace."
"I don't? Isn't it polite to do so?" he questioned.
Emma stuttered, too stunned to even think of a response. "No, you are right to thank me, I just... I didn't... the lesson hasn't started yet."
