Page 53 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke
“Only a man can cause a woman to be so lost in sweet thoughts,” Emma continued.
Joane refused to respond.
If I say yes, Emma will chastise me for going out to see my father’s enemy. If I say no, she’ll know I lie.
“You refuse to respond. I know you had your thoughts on Mr. William.”
Joane turned to face her friend.
“Yes, I was. I was thinking about how he would get home. It’s already dark,” Joane replied.
“Why didn’t you come back in your carriage? When I came I was told you left in a carriage with the driver,” Emma replied.
Oh! Mr. Bruce
She wondered where Mr. Bruce went.
“When I decided to come home I couldn’t find Mr. Bruce and the carriage anywhere. I knew we had an agreement to meet because of your father,” Joane replied, looking at her friend as she said that.
Emma rolled her eyes as if to say, “You just remembered that.”
“And the rain was about to fall. We could tell it was going to be very heavy. So Mr. William got his horse and offered me a ride. It was either that or I waited in a public place for a man that might never come back that day. I had no choice.”
She saw Emma nod her head in agreement.
“So you said you met Mr. William at the fencing centre,” Emma said to her.
“Yes I did. He was just about to have a fencing match with the head tutor at the centre when I came in with a group of other girls,” Joane replied.
She saw Emma raise her eyebrows, just like she did when she questioned something in her mind.
“So he didn’t know you would be there?” Emma asked.
Joane laughed at her friend’s implications.
“No, he didn’t,” she said.
“So who won?” Emma asked.
Joane looked at her quizzically.
Who else?
“Okay, wrong question. So when he finished his fight, what did you do together?” Emma asked, her eyes shining with mischief and a taste for gossip.
Joane laughed. She knew what Emma wanted to hear. She was determined to play with her a bit.
“Nothing much, he showed me the store room and the balcony of the centre. He learnt his fighting there,” Joane said.
“What else?”
“Nothing much, we talked about life as aristocrats. We talked about the difference between living as a daughter of a Duke and as a son,” she lied.
She could see the interest die in her friend’s eyes as she spoke. Emma squeezed her face in what Joane was sure was bewilderment.
“Such a mundane discussion, is he such a bore?” Emma said.
Joane grinned. She could barely hold down the laughter she felt due to the disgust Emma showed at the line of the discussion. She pretended to remember something else, raising one finger in an exaggerated gesticulation.
