by Hannah West
“Plus,” Emma added with a wince, “If she were to see me out in public looking like this, as if I had been attacked by a door, she would go into hysterics.” She looked up at him with those expressive eyes.
While Derek liked things a certain way he knew Lady Wenbrooke was like a general. If indeed she saw Lady Emma’s face she would hide her away. Never a hair out of place, that one.
But even with a bruise on her forehead Derek had never seen someone so lovely. He wanted to kiss that spot and make her pain go away, but that wouldn’t be the only kiss he wanted to take.
Had Anna not been there with them he might have done it. Never in his life had he been both glad and disappointed with his sister for being with him. But he was not the man who normally would have done something like that.
“How about you let us take you home,” offered Anna giving him a pointed look of all things.
Clearing his throat he nodded in agreement. “Do please allow us to take you home, Lady Emma.”
His sister nodded in approval, like he was a small child who had done the right things. That made him want to grit his teeth but instead he offered Lady Emma his arm.
He saw her settled into the carriage that had been waiting and was about to help his sister when she stepped back.
“I forgot I had some business with Lily. I must get a few things settled that are important. Come back for me after she is settled at home. I should be done by then. Please tell Lady Emmaline that I am sorry,” Anna said giving him a kiss on the cheek and returning to the shop without a glace behind her.
Derek looked between the shop and the carriage. His sister knew it was improper for him to ride alone with a lady he had no familial connections to, who was also unwed. More so as it was Lady Emma.
Being with her in a closed and defined space would severely test his limits. He was still on a short fuse after seeing her hurt. He had not truly been thinking then which seems to be his response to being around Lady Emma.
He could simply get into the carriage and close the door behind him to be fee to ravish her n the soft cushioned seats. She would look at him with those damned expressive eyes and give him a smile that turned his blood to fire. He could find sweet release in that agonizing moment.
“Lord Montrose,” Lady Emma called out from within the carriage, a note of concern coloring her tone, “Is all well?”
Taking a deep breath he prayed for the will to resist and got into the carriage before he thought better of it. He closed the door behind him and sat in the far corner in the seat opposite from her.
“My sister had business to tend to so I shall see you home,” Derek stated.
Her brows creased. “Is this not improper?”
“Yes,” he said drawing out the word, “But you were injured so for this one time it is understandable of me to do so.”
“Do you really believe that?” she asked her smile returning. “You are nothing if not proper.”
He hated how she said the word proper when describing him, as if it were a fault she found with him. The woman was truly maddening.
She leaned in close to him. “I believe you are proper because it’s what is expected of you and you do not know how to be anything else. But,” she said as if letting him in on a secret, “you can do anything. You don’t have to be a duke to do that.”
She had surprised him by saying that. He had never thought of that before. He simply was as he always had been. Could he be different and change?
The idea held a certain appeal to it.
She made him different around her, but was that a good thing, he wondered.
Lady Emma sat back in her seat and looked like the cat that ate the canary. “You are afraid to be anything other than a duke, my lord.”
Calling him ‘my lord’ snapped the last string of the will her had been grappling with to hold himself back.
“My name is Derek,” he growled before he reached forward taking her by the shoulders, “not ‘my lord’.”
He crushed his mouth to hers and demanded entrance.
Chapter Seventeen
How to Become a Lady ~ Rule Seventeen: A lady give proper address to those with titles.
Emma sat dizzily on the window seat in her room staring out the window at the rain that fell with the crawling fog at its feet.
It had been three days since she was returned home by the duke and three days since she had turned into a complete lack wit. She had been rendered into the state with nothing more than a kiss from a man she barely knew.
After he had plundered her mouth then ripped himself away from her all he said was, “This is not me.” Then he had proceed to glare at her the rest of the silent ride.
She had liked him, it was true but she had never thought of him beyond their new friendship. Emma had not desired him as a lady would her lover until he had taken what she had never offered.
Now she daydreamed of his touches, his sinful kisses.
For a man so proper and pious he kissed like a rogue who wanted his way with a courtesan. That had not been the kiss of a duke or even a gentleman; it had been the kiss of a desperate lover.
Though it had not been her first, it had been by far the best she had received. But it had made her wonder things.
Why had he done so? Surely not out of desire for her. Perhaps he had no other way of shutting her up. She had prattled on a bit and had as good as called him a coward to his face.
Ah yes! That had to be it. She had called him a coward, dared him not to and in doing so hurt his manly pride. So he did the only things he could do.
He had proved her wrong.
So Emma pushed away from her silly feelings about the kiss and found comfort in her reasoning.
Regardless if it meant something or not it had been nice. It had made her feel alive again, desirous.
Perhaps she would take a husband this Season if she could find someone who could warm her blood with such a kiss again.
A knock sounded on her door before a maid came in and handed her a card.
“There is a caller, my lady. Should I turn him away,” asked the meek maid.
“I thought my sister and her husband are out for the day,” Emma said confused.
“They are, my lady. He asked for you, not your sister or Lord Wenbrooke.”
She could not see anyone just yet; the bruise had faded but had not healing completely leaving it as a pale greenish yellow.
“Please tell him I am not at home.”
The maid worried her hands. “He insisted to see you and told me to tell you to read his card.”
Brow winged in surprise, she did and felt a flood of heat in her cheeks.
The calling card read The Duke of Montrose, Derek Ashford ll, in fine black script the center of the ivory square. Its fine decorative boarder embossed in gold leaf.
It struck her that this one card would have cost her a week’s worth of wages. The man had to be so rich he could own half of England if he wanted too.
But why was he here to see her? To apologize for the other day?
Shrugging she stood. She could see him as he already knew what she looked like. Mayhap he was checking in on her progress. “Tell him I will see him. Put him in the blue drawing room and bring refreshments for us. I shall be down shortly.”
She checked her hair, straightened her dress and pinched her cheeks for a bit of color.
She was ready to face the duke.
~
Derek fiddled with the twine on the plain brown packaging in his hands. His sister had found it at the shop and had given him the task of returning it after she had interrogated him about what had happened between him and Lady Emma.
Like the fact he addressed her as Lady Emma instead of Lady Emmaline.
Anna had been ruthless in her questions, but Derek had answered few and brushed the rest off, but he knew she saw more than she let on.
The maid came back and led him into a small but spacious drawing room telling him that Lady Emmaline would be along shortly. He circl
ed the room once taking in Lord and Lady Wenbrooke’s style choices.
He supposed it was of good size with older quality furniture that was well taken care of. It made him wonder how Lady Emma and her sister were raised.
While he lived on a richer level than this, this room would seem extravagant to those who were of the less than the merchant class.
While Lady Emma’s voice and tone were cultured, her choice of words and speech weren’t. He suspected she had been raised to the peerage standard for a child, but less so as she got older, likely due to the loss of a governess.
It was known she had a good dowry bestowed upon her by her brother-in-law Viscount Wenbrooke, yet she had been given nothing by her father. He knew her father had been a baron, but was unsure of who he was. He had never heard of the man.
The door opened and Lady Emma walked in looking fresh as a summer daisy with that enchanting smile on her face.
For a moment his mind drew a blink.
“Here,” he said suddenly, shoving the package at her and he wanted to wince. “I mean I brought this for you. It was left at the shop after your accident.”
She took the package and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you, I thought I had lost it.”
Then she remembered her sister’s lesson on hosting guests properly. So she stepped aside and gestured to the chairs and chaise.
“Please, won’t you sit and join me for a cup of tea,” she asked.
She could tell he wanted to but he shook his head.
“I have other business to tend to,” he answered stiffly.
“If this is about what I made you do, I am sorry. I meant no harm. I called your pride into question and you proved me wrong. I hope it will not change my agreement.”
He seemed to maul it over and then he took a seat near the front window. He waved a hand at the seat next to him for her to sit in.
Finding that odd she sat where he motioned to and crossed one leg over the other.
“Before you say anything else I too must apologize for my actions. I’m not quite sure what came over me,” the duke said, still stiff.
Emma gave him a genuine smile. “No need. It had been a pleasant kiss and it changed my mind.”
Chapter Eighteen
How to Become a Lady ~ Rule Eighteen: A lady must never kiss and tell.
Good god, the woman was really going to talk to him about what they had done! Surely she-
Wait a moment. Had she just called his kiss merely pleasant? It had been passionate, bold, he would even title it world shatter in an extreme light and she had found it pleasing?
He could feel his ire peak. He wanted to take her mouth again and give her a kiss that would bring her to her knees.
“Change your mind,” he echoed remember that last part she had spoken.
She took it as a question and answered. “Yes, I’ve a mind to take husband. While I no longer require one to survive it would be nice to have someone to come home too. To um,” she paused and then finished, “do things with.”
It took Derek less than five seconds to understand what she had meant and his blood warmed at the idea.
“Pardon my frankness, but how old are you, Lady Emma?” Derek asked.
She was surprised by the change in topic but still answered, “I am twenty one. Not a young miss, but nor am I a spinster.”
She was of age and looking for a husband. He was looking for a wife and he already liked her.
His mother, the embodiment of what a duchess should be, would be appalled at his train of thought. He knew she would not approve of someone not from her list so he would simply have to make sure his mother added her to it.
Sitting there in Lady Wenbrooke’s drawing room, the Duke of Montrose, decided on the biggest event of his life while no one knew a thing. Not even Lady Emma, who he would make his wife.
Now that he realized what he wanted, he saw how right it was. She was a perfect for him. He was rather stiff and proper and she was carefree and independent. But to top it off he liked her. A marriage with Lady Emma would never have a dull moment and he would have the sweet temptress in his bed. Now none other would do.
There was only one other set back that stopped him for asking her right her, right now. He wanted her to enjoy her Season since it was her first, but he must make a visit to her brother-in-law to make his claim known.
He knew she had become popular already even with the Season just beginning. But by the end of it she would be his.
“Are you well,” she asked him.
He nodded, focusing back on her. “Yes, very much for.” He smiled at her then, “Do you think you will be well enough to attend Lady Jersey’s ball come this Friday?”
She cringed a little. “I am hopeful, but my sister will forbid it should the bruise not be gone. She called me a fool for running into a door, but even as I explained that it had not been my fault and it had hit me, she would not listen. I will miss going to Lady Pennington’s ball tomorrow while my sister goes.”
Her sigh came of a little sad.
“Then how would you like to go to the opera with me and my sister tomorrow while your sister goes to the ball?”
“I would love to as I have yet to go, but I do not want anyone to see my face and gossip about what could have caused it. I hate gossip,” she said by way of declining.
He watched as she self-coconsciously touched the almost faded bruise.
“I own a private box, no one shall get close enough to see,” he said softly, temptingly.
“You are most kind, your grace, it is tempting.”
He wanted to tell her to be tempted, to do as she wanted, but he knew it would be unkind to force her, to push her to it.
But he was tempted to punish her for calling him ‘your grace’. The way she addressed him as such bothered him more than he could say.
She would be his wife so she should get used to calling him by his given name.
“Derek,” he corrected. “My name is Derek, not your grace or my lord. We are friends and friends do not use titles in intimate company of each other.”
“You are sure?” she asked looking doubtful.
“Yes,” he said smile widening into a grin, “I am a proper duke after all.”
“Well then you must call me Emma,” she countered.
“Done,” he agreed.
Derek decided courting her was going to be the great challenge of his life as well as be the most fun he had ever partook in.
Just then the maid returned with tea and Derek started on his plan to get Lady Emma to choice him.
He knew she would not just choose him based on his title; he would have to work for her, to win her.
Chapter Nineteen
How to Become a Lady ~ Rule Nineteen: A lady must flirt but never become a flirt.
The crush that wad Lady Jersey’s ball was in full swing as the music hummed in the air, the chatter of party guests buzzing beyond and Emma laughed with true enjoyment as she danced with her brother=in=law. Cassie had announced her perfectly healthy and hale and able to go to the ball. With the exception she use her latest lady’s lesson.
“You must flirt,” Cassie had instructed sitting down to tea. “With everyone and anyone, but it must be done artfully and tastefully with precision. You want people to enjoy you, but not think you to forward or brash. Be a butterfly, let them enjoy your colorful wings but not touch them.”
Emma had wrinkled her nose. “Must I flirt with the older man who smell of cigar smoke and moth balls? Or the old crones who gaze disapprovingly at the frivolity?”
“Fine,” Cassie laughed, “You do not have to flirt with everyone but do not become an incorrigible flirt. They are quick to cause trouble that becomes scandal.”
Putting on an austere look Emma said gentile like, “I shall not flirt too much nor too little and let them gaze upon my wings.”
Cassie gave an unladylike snorted. “You, dear sister, are horrible. We shall have to find you a man who will enjoy your wit and humor
. “ She grew solemnly serious as she said her next words. “I know the duke has taken a liking toward you but I fear he would not make you happy even if you would wed well. I fear being wed to a man like him, very serious and strict, you would come to regret that choice.”
Emma brushed off her sister’s words. “Cassie, the man is a duke and as such he is looking for a duchess which is not me, who is the daughter of a broke baron with hands roughened from hard labor. Besides we have an understanding of sorts. He will direct suitable gentlemen my way and I shall send suitable ladies his way.”
Cassie’s eyes had narrowed at her. “Are you telling me that you are on speaking terms with the Duke of Montrose?”
Emma held up her hand in a placating gesture. “He merely saved me and I returned the favor a time or two. We are a pair of odd allies and he treats me as he would a sister.”
The lie rolled off her tongue with ease. He did not treat her as a sister. No sane man would kiss his sister as he had kissed her even if it had been to prove a point. He treated her for what she was, a friend.
But it was better that her sister thought their connection shallow, not seeing how deep it had become.
Emma smiled at John as he bowed over her hand as the song came to a close. While he could be a stiff, he had proved to be great fun.
“Thank you for such a lovely dance,” she thanked him.
“Of course,” he said gallantly offered her his arm.
Cassie joined them on the fringe of the crowd and smiled with joy.
“Seems you are having a good time,” Emma noted.
Her sister’s smile was dizzying. “Oh yes, I love going to balls and parties. Until you needed a Season we only went to a few every year. I did not realize just how much I enjoyed it.”
John gave a flushed Cassie a devilish grin and bowed to her. “Then may I tempt, my lady.”
And to Emma’s disbelieving ears her sister giggled in delight, before nodding and taking his hand. They left her staring after them with a fond smile. Her sister was happy and seemed much younger as she flitted around almost carefree.
