Emmaline took a moment to take it all in as she had every other room, sweeping around its edge, tracing her finger over the edge of tables and shelves, looking at the trinkets here and there.
There were a great many of them and Emmaline suspected that like many of the grand houses of England, they had been collected over the centuries and the many generations that had lived in the house. She suspected even the duke himself did not know of every last item he now possessed that had once belonged to his father, and his father before him, and his father before that.
The centerpiece of the office, a huge black wooden desk that was polished to a fine and glossy finish was what caught Emmaline’s eye the most, and she stepped up to it, caressing its surface. Never had she felt something so smooth nor seen a wood so black.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” the duke asked. Out of the corner of her eye, Emmaline saw him smiling with the good side of his lips. “It is made of ebony. My father had it imported from Africa on one of his many business trips.”
“I have never seen anything like it,” Emmaline admitted.
The duke nodded. “I have rarely seen it in England either,” he admitted. “I am pleased to possess such a rarity indeed.”
Somehow, Emmaline felt he was no longer just talking about the desk for the way he gazed at her made her tremble.
“Please, let us sit,” he said, gesturing to the plush cushioned couch opposite the desk. “I am sure I have kept you on your feet long enough.”
Now that he mentioned it, Emmaline's feet were aching. She suspected they had walked a few miles worth of steps throughout the house and they had yet to look at the gardens.
She moved to sit on the couch beside the duke, keeping a careful distance. “I am sure a great many business events have taken place at such a desk.”
“Indeed,” the duke said, and Emmaline thought she sensed him stiffen. “A great many and on the desk before it. I come from a long line of businessmen who just so happen to also be dukes.”
“It must be nice to have such wealth and title to afford you such a cozy life, Your Grace.”
Emmaline bit her lip the moment the words left her tongue. She turned her head in an instant, her eyes widening. “Forgive me, Your Grace, it is not my place to say such things.”
It was clear that her words had struck a chord within the duke, and he stared at her as if unsure whether to let his anger rain down upon her.
She braced herself, expecting a show from the devil himself. Instead, the duke sighed and shook his head. “Contrary to what you may believe, Lady Emmaline, my life has been far from easy. Walking in the footsteps of a man such as my father can be… challenging.”
“What was he like?” It felt a natural question to ask but again she felt a fool when the duke's eyes snapped closed.
“I shall not discuss my father with you,” he said, shaking his head. “He is dead and buried and left me everything. That is all you need know.”
“Forgive me, I did not mean to cause you any hurt, Alexander,” Emmaline said softly. It was only when she followed his gaze that she realized she had laid her hand on his on his knee.
Snatching it away, she averted her gaze.
“What of you and your father, Emmaline, you said at the club that it was you who encouraged your father into the India shipment investment?”
Emmaline gulped. This time it was she who closed her eyes.
Pained, she nodded curtly. “Yes, it was.”
“Had such a tragedy not occurred, it would have been a remarkable investment indeed,” the duke stated and shocked, Emmaline looked to him.
She did not find even the slightest hint of mocking, only admiration in his eyes.
“I… I suppose that does not matter now,” she said, feeling a little uncomfortable.
“I wonder,” the duke said, examining her closely. “Do you have a real head for business, or was your interest in the India investment only a brief dipping of your toe into the pool?”
Emmaline's entire body tingled with excitement at the mention of business. Though tinged by the failure of her first proper investment, her flare for such things had not dampened.
“I… my father, at least in the privacy of our home, has often called me his most trusted advisor,” she admitted.
The duke regarded her silently for some time. She was just beginning to think he might actually laugh at her words when he leaned forward, sucked in a breath, and said, “I wonder what you might make of my own business dealings.”
Emmaline blinked hard several times. Finding him still staring at her, she realized she had not imagined it. He was waiting for her response.
