“Uncle, to what do I owe the pleasure?” the duke asked, entering the room with Emmaline on his arm.
Like the duke himself, his uncle was dark haired and gentlemanly in looks. But there was a darkness in his eyes, though they were much lighter than the duke's, that Emmaline did not like. Seeing it immediately set her teeth on edge.
“We have business to discuss,” Lord Black announced, meeting his nephew's gaze as if he had no intention of even acknowledging Emmaline's presence.
“Indeed, Uncle, but first there is a young lady I should like you to meet,” the duke explained. “Please, allow me to introduce you to the newest Duchess of Westmarch, my wife, Emmaline.”
Emmaline shivered at the name and how he introduced her, but it was not out of fear or disgust. She actually liked it.
Being a duchess afforded her all kinds of privilege that she never even dared dream of before.
When the uncle made no attempt to respond save for turning to look Emmaline over, she dipped her head and took matters into her own hands. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Black.”
“Hmm…” the duke's uncle hummed, eyeing her with a furrowed brow.
“When were you planning to tell me of this?” Lord Black asked, and it was quite clear he was speaking to the duke though he never took his eyes off Emmaline.
She felt like some kind of exhibit in one London's art galleries or some act in a circus. And it was clear from his attitude that Lord Black was not approving of her, though for the life of her, she couldn't understand why.
“I wrote to you,” the duke stated, shoulders squared.
“Not what I meant,” the uncle ground out.
“Perhaps we ought to talk of this privately while we discuss our other business?” the duke suggested.
Lord Black scoffed and for a second, Emmaline thought he was going to protest. Then he shoved his hands into his britches pockets and said, “Very well. Shall we go to your father's office?”
“Myoffice,” the duke corrected, and Emmaline's stomach twisted.
What is that all about?She wondered, still with an awful feeling in her gut when it came to Lord Black.
“Yes, yes, indeed,” Lord Black insisted. “I forget.”
For the first time, he acknowledged Emmaline then, dipping his head low as he said, “Your Grace.”
Though his mannerisms were pleasant enough, there was an edge to his tone that made Emmaline more than a little uncomfortable.
“Lord Black,” she said, curtsying in return. The last thing she wanted to do was appear impolite.
She was most surprised when the duke took her hand from his arm and lifted it to his lips.
“I do hope we shall not be too long, my love,” he said and though Emmaline sensed that his kindness was for the benefit of his uncle's witnessing, she couldn't help but feel there was something else behind it also.
“Please, take all of the time you need,” she insisted, “I am quite able to occupy myself in your absence.”
The duke smiled at her over her hand and kissed her knuckles firmly. “I am certain you are,” he said and a little quieter he added, “But I should much more enjoy being with you.”
His words made her heart race and when he released her hand, she realized it was trembling.
“We haven't got all day, Alex,” Lord Black insisted, already having made it to the drawing room door.
Emmaline cringed. Would the duke really accept someone speaking to him in such a manner?
It appeared he would. Emmaline told herself it was simply because they were family and yet something about it rubbed her entirely the wrong way.
“Whatever was all that about?” Emmaline whispered once she was left alone in the drawing room.
Her heart ached the moment that she did, for she realized, she was entirely alone. Ordinarily, on such an occasion in her father's drawing room, Jane would be standing right there beside her, sharing in her bafflement or offering an explanation.
