Possibly by the last waltz she would be approached by someone who resembled an old uncle rather than an ancient grandfather.
A girl could only hope.
The man shakily grabbed his cane and nudged her in the side.
“He’s a good-looking fellow, is he not, my dear?”
“Who?” What was this man jabbering about?
“The duke, of course.”
She nodded her head trying to think of polite ways to leave Sebastian out of any conversation, lest her body give her away and start trembling with excitement.
“I know his grandmother, of course. The lady won’t give me the time of day. I live for her rejection.”
Emma laughed.
“In fact,” he continued, “I ask her to marry me every single day just to make her smile. I’m old, it doesn’t hurt my pride any to be turned down by such a delicate creature.”
Just then an elderly lady with a similar cane to the one the old man was holding began hobbling toward them.
Her regal posture told Emma she was either full of herself or used to attention. An uncomfortable look of inspection crossed her face as she glanced at Emma and then at her partner.
“Ah, Marquess Welbourne, how good of you to grace us all with your presence. I thought you’d be home nursing your broken heart.”
“It’s all better,” he mused, a twinkle in his eyes. “Allow me to present to you Miss Gates.”
“A pleasure,” the lady said, hardly glancing at Emma.
“You didn’t even look at her,” Welbourne said.
“Don’t have to. Let me guess her beauty is without compare and my insipid grandson has been sending her searing looks all throughout the evening.”
“Her grace is grossly accurate in her assessment.”
“Well, my girl, let me have a look at you.”
Emma figured that was her cue and abruptly dipped into a low curtsy.
“I see what he means. She does need to eat more, don’t you think, Welbourne? Can’t say I’m surprised she’s caught his fancy.” She stomped her cane inches from Emma’s foot. “I do wonder if she can stretch that young fool, convince him to do something more than what’s expected of him.”
Welbourne nodded. Emma gaped. What was the duchess getting at?
“In fact.” The duchess was now standing between the two of them. “I have many times paid ladies of my influence to trap young Sebastian into marriage. My girl, I have been that desperate.”
Emma nodded, not believing her ears, yet knowing if anyone was to have such a scandalous grandmother, it would be the Duke of Tempest.
“Furthermore, he refused to sleep with all of them! Can you believe that? One was even a French countess! I think I aided his rake’s reputation, but I do not believe he has ever actually been with a woman, if you understand my meaning, my dear.”
Emma felt her face turn hot.
“Don’t look so embarrassed, my girl. It’s not as if I want my grandson to live in sin. Quite the opposite. I was merely hoping to trip him up a bit, if you will. But he wouldn’t take the bait. He has the self-control of a priest.” She shook her head. “But enough of that, I do believe you will do, my girl. You will do fine!”
Emma swallowed. “Do what, your grace?”
“I believe you should convince him.”
“Convince him?” Emma squeaked. “What exactly does he need to be convinced of?”
The duchess grinned, revealing a captivating smile that hid her advanced years. “Convince him to marry you, of course. By any means necessary. I’m desperate, and if I see another debutante throw herself in front of him, I shall not be responsible for my actions, my dear. I’ve been known to cause carriage accidents.”
“Is that true?” Emma turned to Welbourne.
“My dear, you have no idea what she is capable of. It’s why I confess undying love each day.”
“Silly is what you are, Welbourne,” the duchess answered, though not as stern as before. “I’m older than you and much too set in my ways to marry. My grandson, however, is not past seducing.”
Emma looked between the two in shock. They were dead serious. Why was she to be the one to do the seducing? Why her?
“I’m curious why you think I’m up to the task,” Emma said before thinking.
The duchess was nonplussed and shrugged. “I’ve had the pleasure of spending many of my holidays with the Renwicks. On occasion they even let me talk with young Samuel, though Nicholas is convinced I’ll be a terrible influence on the boy.”
“You did introduce young Samuel to the tad pole pond on your estate,” Welbourne interjected.
“Hmm, would that be the same tadpole pond where Samuel found a frog? The same frog he set loose in church?”
The duchess smirked. “I can neither deny nor acknowledge I had any part in that.”
Welbourne rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, my dear, I know you’re a cousin to Sara, whom I also adore. And I’ve heard so many good things, my dear, so many things. I also know of your parents. I think you’d be perfectly suited for my grandson. In fact, I decree that you shall seduce him by any means possible. I’ll even send Welbourne out to catch you in a compromising embrace.”
“Unfortunately, her grace isn’t bluffing.” Welbourne took a long sip of champagne and shook his head. “Oh the things the Duchess of Tempest has done.”
The duchess scoffed. “Silence, Welbourne, do you want to scare her? Run along then.” Heavily jeweled hands pushed her toward the dance floor, toward Sebastian.
Emma was powerless to stop her feet from moving forward. She turned back to the duchess, hoping she would call for her return. Instead she yelled, “And good luck, my dear! You’ll need it!”
Emma’s leaden legs drew her up to the side of the Duke of Tempest. Closing her eyes, she lifted her hand to tap him on the shoulder. He was going to think she was mad. How did one explain to someone that his grandmother was missing the sane parts of her mind?
He didn’t turn around. She tapped him again, this time more insistently.
He still didn’t move.
Drat the man! She stomped on his foot and grabbed him.
A hush went across the ballroom.
Of course.
What had made her think it would be even minutely socially acceptable to grab a duke by the shoulders? Especially one as single and powerful as the Duke of Tempest? Maybe she was the one with the missing marbles.
“Yes?” he asked, turning the full force of his power on her.
Knees shaking, she met his glare.
“I wish to speak with you.”
People began whispering. It couldn’t get worse.
And then...
“Well, my boy, don’t just stand there! Dance with the girl!” The duchess’s voice boomed across the room. Emma felt her face heat. Why, oh why had she listened to the old crone?
Sebastian, a bit taken aback, nodded in his grandmother’s direction and took Emma’s hand.
“You’ve managed to charm the old bag, hmm?” he whispered, putting his other hand on her back. “It’s often compared with snake charming. I’m quite impressed. Do you also do little gypsy dances and parade around in nothing but bangles on your wrists and, God forbid, your ankles? I think I should like to see that.”
Emma, stunned into silence, began shaking. Mumbling an apology, she pushed away from him and ran out of the ballroom. Again leaving the entire ton in an uproar. She had managed to snag and abandon the most eligible duke in society in the span of two minutes.
****
Sebastian stood in the middle of the dance floor utterly deserted. He hated scandal and he hated pity. Women across the room had their mouths gaping open in shock, several others pretended to faint. His grandmother, the one person he expected to be outraged, had the audacity to laugh out loud and then walk off with Welbourne.
He had never been rejected before. How was he to respond? Was he to laugh it off? Normally he wouldn’t care, but it had seemed he had offended Emma or frightened her nearly out of her wits.
Swallowing his pride, he followed her out, amidst the growing whispers of him being love sot. He wanted to tell them to bloody mind their own business, but he knew it would just fan the flame.
Pushing through the front entrance, he scanned the streets for any sign of her. Nothing greeted him except blackness and the sick feeling he had done irreparable damage to his and Emma’s relationship.
What was he thinking? Relationship? Is that what they were in? He ran his hands through his hair and decided to walk back to Renwick House. It was just down the block, and he needed time to think.
Suddenly the ball didn’t seem at all the place he wanted to be. What he wanted was to find Emma and tell her he was sorry for whatever he said to upset her. He had been joking. She had to know that. He always joked!
He arrived at the front door of Renwick House exhausted and without a trace of Emma.
By the time he was ready for bed, he felt as if he had lived a thousand lifetimes. He would talk with Emma in the morning to see if he could fix whatever he’d done wrong. After all, women loved it when powerful men dropped down on one knee and begged.
And then...
“That’s it!” he yelled, hitting his pillow.
A smile cracked at the corners of his mouth. He was brilliant. It wouldn’t shock him at all if they erected statues in his honor, his plan was that clever. He knew exactly how he would handle this.
Nicholas is going to shoot me, he thought happily and closed his eyes.
****
“Of all the stupid things I could have done!” Emma yelled once she got in her bedroom. Sara sat and listened but appeared to be anxious to meet her husband for the evening. Married life must be something worth looking forward to if Sara was so eager to share her husband’s bed.
“I abandoned him. In front of the entire ton. I ran away!” Emma put her head in her hands and groaned. “I shall never live this down, and he shall never let me forget it!”
“Oh, stop. We both know the duke isn’t one to hold grudges. If anything he probably found it amusing. He deserves to be brought down a few notches anyway. Nobody should be blessed with perfect looks. Nicholas himself needed humbling. Just look at how little Samuel drives him to madness.”
“True.” Hesitantly Emma picked up her hairbrush. “I just don’t want to cause him any trouble.”
“That should be the least of your worries, Emma. He’s a duke, after all. People would want him if he were missing all his teeth and an arm.”
Too bad he wasn’t missing an arm or all of his glorious teeth. At least then Emma could have a decent conversation with the man without wanting to kiss him or touch his broad shoulders or feel the heat of his skin burning beneath his shirt.
“Are you hot?” Sara asked. “You look flushed. Are you coming down with something?”
Lust, crystal blue eyes, full lips. “No, nothing at all. I’m just tired.” Emma said her goodnights to Sara and tried to close her eyes. Sleep would be difficult after such an eventful night.
Chapter Seven
The following morning as Sebastian walked downstairs, he had the sneaking suspicion he would be grinning all day. His plan was perfect. By the time he reached the room where everyone would be breaking their fast, he still couldn’t wipe the smug smile off of his face. Nor could he get the vivid picture of what Emma would look like with her hair down out of his thoughts. All velvet and red splayed across white linen. He cleared his throat and shifted. He must not think of such things, considering he was staying in the same house as her.