Page 43 of A Duke Reformed
"You're staring at Emma," Andrew noted. "Are you truly still going to deny–"
"I'm not staring, I'm just looking," Solomon tried to defend himself.
"That's the same thing. You do know how awkward it would be if she caught you?"
Solomon inhaled sharply, seeing sense in Andrew's remark. He was being ridiculous and he had to reminded himself. Emma wasn't his, and if she was interested in someone else, that was her business. It didn't matter that there was a small flare of jealousy that ignited in him. It had to be something else. Certainly not jealousy.
Yet, as his eyes flickered back to the man with her, he noticed something that made his pulse quicken. The man, who was laughing and still leaning a bit too close to Emma was now writing something on her dance card. Solomon's gaze snapped to the card in her hand, and a wave of irritation washed over him.
He knew it was irrational, but seeing that gesture, so intimate in its own way, felt like a physical blow to him. His jaw tightened involuntarily, his fingers twitching at his sides and he couldn't bear it. There was no sane reason as to why it bothered him, but the surge of protectiveness that overtook him made him move before he could stop himself.
Without a second thought, he started making his way across the room towards her. Andrew seemed to have called out to him, but he didn't stop. His steps were quick, and with every move he took, there was a voice in his screaming that it was a bad idea.
Emma looked up, her eyes meeting his for in an instant and she looked almost...startled to see him again. She quickly composed herself, but Solomon saw it, the shift in her demeanor.
Before she could speak, before she could say anything, Solomon blurted, "I think it's my turn to write on that card, Miss Lockhart."
Solomon stood for a moment, watching Emma's fingers tremble slightly as she held her dance card. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but he was already leaning closer, taking the card from her hands. His fingers brushed hers, sending an unexpected jolt through him that he consciously chose to ignore.
The room seemed to fade into a blur as he reached for the pen, and in a smooth motion, he wrote his name on her card, erasing the other gentleman's name without even looking at it. There was no hesitation in the action. No second thoughts. Just the strange satisfaction of seeing his name where it belonged.
Emma gasped at his action. "Your Grace!"
Solomon's eyes didn't leave the card as he finished writing his name. He could feel her gaze on him, could almost sense the disbelief in her voice, but he did not flinch. As he placed the pen back down, his eyes briefly met Emma's, the shock in her gaze mirrored in the way her hand subtly tightened around the edge of the card.
He gave her a small, almost teasing smile before turning his attention to the gentleman who had been talking to Emma. The man had been watching, and now he stood frozen, clearly taken aback by Solomon's actions. Solomon just watched him, waiting for him to say something. To do something. But instead, theman's face paled slightly, eyes darting nervously from Solomon to Emma, as if trying to gauge the situation.
After a long, tense moment, the gentleman simply nodded and took a step back. His shoulders stiffened, and he quickly excused himself, retreating into the crowd without a single word.
Solomon's eyes followed him for a moment, watching as he hurried away. It was the first time he had done something like that and it felt satisfying. When the gentleman was finally gone, he turned his attention back to Emma, but as soon as their eyes met, he saw it. The fire. Her cheeks flushed, not with excitement, but with a simmering anger. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes narrowed in disbelief.
She took a sharp breath before speaking. "Need I remind you how entirely inappropriate that was, or have you learned nothing from our lessons, Your Grace?"
In that moment, Solomon felt a jolt of satisfaction course through him. Emma was not one to get agitated or flustered and seeing how he had singlehandedly caused the sharpness in her gaze gave him a sense of accomplishment that he hadn't expected.
With a casual smirk, he leaned in slightly. "That's why our lessons are so necessary, Ducky. I keep forgetting these things."
Still, he had no excuse for his disruption and he had to come up with a good explanation, and he had to do it fast.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"There was no need for you to erase his name from my card," Emma said to Solomon and crossed her arms. "And do not blame the lessons because I certainly talked to you about ballroom etiquette."
Solomon tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Really? You mentioned something about erasing names?" He sucked in his teeth and straightened his back. "I must have missed that part."
Emma scoffed. "Oh, don't be clever with me, Your Grace. What you did was inappropriate. And also rude."
Solomon watched her carefully, stifling a smile. Her composure was cracking, he could see it... and he liked it. He liked that it was him who could make her flustered. How he could stir something in her that he had not seen any other man manage to do. He tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes fixed on her mouth. He knew what came next. Any moment now her teethwould sink into her lower lip. A small, unconscious gesture she made whenever she was trying not to speak too quickly or too harshly.
"Inappropriate?" he echoed. "I'd say it was efficient. That man would have bored you senseless."
"That is not your concern," she said sharply, the color rising to her cheeks. "I decide who dances with me, not you. Also, Lord Pembleton is a very nice man."
Lord Pembleton...
Solomon took a step closer, lowering his voice just enough so only she could hear. "And yet you did not stop me from erasing his name, Ducky."
Emma blinked, caught off guard. "You didn't exactly ask and I was..." she paused and bit her lower lip. "I don't think I want to discuss this any further."
