Page 7 of A Duke to Undo her
Good-natured and golden-haired, Benedict Emerton grinned at Josephine with friendly enthusiasm and she could not help smiling back. Mr. Emerton had a natural manner and easy tone that made people warm quickly to his company.
“I was hoping we would run into you too, Mr. Emerton,” Josephine responded, noting with particular satisfaction howbeautifully his stock was tied again. “In fact, I made my sister, Lady Elmridge, come to St. James’s Park especially this morning because I remembered you would be here.”
“Of course you did,” muttered the Duke of Ashbourne gruffly from beside his brother, looking distinctly unhappy that their morning promenade together had been interrupted. “It does not surprise me that you think it proper for young ladies to run after gentlemen all over town.”
“Cassius,” his younger brother objected, with a pleading glance to the duke. “It’s only a walk. You and I can talk later, can’t we?”
The dark-haired man seemed reluctant to release Benedict from whatever conversation they had been having but saw that he had little choice without creating a public scene.
“Very well, Benedict. Have it your way. As you say, it’s only a walk,” the duke conceded with little grace, his deep blue eyes still far from pleased. “We will continue our conversation later. Where is your chaperone, Lady Josephine? I cannot have my brother escorting young ladies about the park without observing the usual proprieties.”
“Lord and Lady Elmridge are just behind us, Cassius” Mr. Emerton told his brother shortly, on the edge of losing patience, something that aroused Josephine’s sympathies greatly given her own experience of overbearing older siblings. “Look, they are smiling and nodding to us.”
He raised his hat to Vera and Norman with a smile while the Duke of Ashbourne offered only a curt nod of acknowledgement. Was he always so ill-tempered, or did he only dislike Josephine, she wondered?
Deciding that she did not care to be liked by such a man anyway, Josephine tried not to even look at the arrogant nobleman who seemed to hold her in such contempt on the basis of a single unfortunate encounter.
“Vera knows that I hoped to see you, Mr. Emerton,” Josephine assured the blond-haired man whom she had decided was the object of her affection. “If we stroll together, they will follow, but not too closely.”
She hoped that the Duke of Ashbourne would take this hint and also fall behind while she walked with his younger brother. If he disliked Josephine that much, surely he would be grateful for the relief from her company.
The duke, however, seemed entirely of opposite mind and instead attached himself firmly to the young couple, making it almost impossible to conduct any real conversation. Whatever Josephine said as they walked, the duke seemed to quibble with it, or interrupt with irrelevant questions, or even criticisms. Why could he not simply ignore her for five minutes?
Still, Josephine persisted, wanting to know Mr. Emerton better and make her feelings towards him clear. In any case, if she and Benedict were fated to be together, there was nothing the Duke of Ashbourne or anyone else could do do prevent it.
“Are you going to Lady Gordenford’s garden party, Mr. Emerton?” Josephine asked after the duke had poured cold water on their discussion of elephants, zebras and other exotic animals in the royal collection, deeming their keeping in the English climate a cruel and unnecessary entertainment for fools. “Last year was quite an occasion.”
“Yes, I do plan to attend, Lady Josephine. Will you be there with Lord and Lady Elmridge?”
“Certainly, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Last year they had seltzer water and Lady Gordenford’s twin sons who were home from school shook the bottles and sprayed all the young ladies. There was so much screaming but I declared it was perfect weather for such a shower and everyone laughed.”
“Do you think that proper behavior, Lady Josephine?” enquired the duke severely. “I must say that I do not. I hope the boys’ father dealt with them appropriately.”
“It only sounds like a schoolboy prank to me, Cassius, not a serious offense,” Benedict tried to soothe him. “I look forward to the pleasure of your company, Lady Josephine, and will bring an umbrella to shield you from any unexpected showers.”
“What a perfect gentleman you are, Mr. Emerton,” Josephine had sighed delightedly. “Your manners are a credit to your upbringing.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” muttered the duke. “Certain young ladies of the ton might take lessons from my brother.”
His previous interruptions had been annoying but this remark had strayed into the territory of open discourtesy. Something snapped inside Josephine and she glared at the speaker.
“My brother brought me up after our father died,” Benedict attempted to explain and bridge the now-visible friction. “My mother’s grief was overwhelming for some years. I owe Cassius a great deal.”
The voice of the golden-haired man beside her faded into the background as Josephine regarded his less favored brother with narrowed green eyes and rising irritation.
Cassius Emerton’s thick and wavy dark-brown hair was not smoothly combed like Benedict’s. It seemed distinctly unruly, escaping from whatever position it had been forced into before leaving the house. Nor was his suit as elegant, being less fashionably cut and plainer. A button had even come unfastened on his waistcoat unnoticed and he wore no flower in his buttonhole.
As for the neatness of his collar and stock, the duke’s younger brother really put him to shame. The dark-haired duke pulled at the crumpled linen as he met Josephine’s gaze, as if suddenly it felt too tight.
“Your stock is awry, Your Grace,” Josephine blurted out, thinking that he deserved to be needled after his previous remark to her.
Anyway, this was was true, and surely it was better to be told so that he could fix it. Vera would be unhappy if she heard this impudent assertion, but Josephine could easily claim that she thought she was trying to be helpful.
“So is your dress, Lady Josephine,” the Duke of Ashbourne fired back and looking down, Josephine realized that there was indeed a half-unfastened ribbon at the neckline of her pale yellow summer gown.
Blushing red, Josephine hastily retied her ribbon, now angrier than ever with this man. Why was he even looking so closely at her dress? It was hardly gentlemanly to be eying up a young lady’s neckline. Beside her, Benedict seemed to be trying to get her attention but she was too occupied in her argument with the duke to listen.
“Your hair needs combing too, Your Grace,” she retorted. “It’s all over the place.”
