There was something about her tone that made Emma cock her head in interest. The great Duke of Abernathe had suffered? The man who seemed to be able to do no wrong and led a gaggle of dukes? A gaggle seemed the best classification for a group of them.
It seemed unlikely. But then again, there was that hint of sadness in his eyes. The one she knew she wasn’t supposed to see.
“Your brother has been kind to me,” Emma admitted.
“Good,” Meg replied with a sly smile. “Then you’ll be happy to be sitting beside him at supper tonight.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “What? Oh Meg! You shouldn’t have!”
Meg drew back. “Why ever not?”
“Because Abernathe is the host and he is terribly important. Having the seat beside his at supper is a place of prestige. Everyone will whisper if a person likemehas that spot of honor.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “You worry too much. And if people look and talk, isn’t that a good thing? Youwantinterest, don’t you?”
Emma froze at that statement, so close to the very words she’d said to Abernathe in his garden in London not a week before. “Did…did Abernathe say something to you?”
“About what?” Meg asked, blinking in what appeared to be true confusion at the question and the sharpness with which it was asked.
“About me. My position,” Emma breathed. She’d spilled out so many things to him in that day. And then she’d made her ridiculous joke about him courting her to gain favor. Her cheeks flamed just thinking about it.
“He didn’t say anything to me,” Meg said gently.
Emma let out a sigh of relief. At least her humiliation wasn’t entirely complete. “Still, you shouldn’t have arranged for such a thing, Meg. Truly.”
“Your opposition is duly noted. Now I should go. I need to check on my mother and say a longer hello to a few other friends.” Meg moved to the door and there she smiled. “Oh, and you should know that I didn’t make the seating arrangements.Hedid.”
Emma stared at her in mute shock as Meg left with a bright farewell. Then she sank down on the nearest chair. Abernathe had insisted she be seated beside him? That was unexpected news, indeed. As was the thrill that worked through her at the notion.
One she would have to tamp down entirely before supper began.
James leaned back in his seat, ignoring what was left of the supper on his plate. He looked to his left, to Emma. She was looking at her food, but she wasn’t eating much, just pushing it around to make it look as if she’d eaten. But she was so focused on the act that it allowed him time to observe her.
In the week since she’d made her intriguing little joke about courting to garner attention, he’d done a bit of research into her and her family. What Graham had told him during their billiards game was just the beginning, for it was dark stuff. He found himself impressed by how little Emma reflected what she’d endured in either her words or actions.
But now he knew the truth and it made him examine her more closely. She wore fine gowns, not the finest, but definitely not inexpensive. And they had to take up a goodly amount of the funds she and her mother possessed, because he knew they had little money. Watching Emma, knowing how she felt about Society, he couldn’t believe that was her choice.
Which meant she was being dragged forward to a life of her mother’s choosing. Something he understood very well, if he replaced her mother with his father.
Emma was also known as something of a bluestocking. When the subject was broached, one gentleman had said something like “too smart for her own good or anyone else’s”. James supposed that was meant to put him off, but in truth it increased his interest. There was nothing he hated more than to spend time with some empty-headed chit. One who only mirrored his own opinions in some ridiculous attempt to get closer to him.
The one thing that no one talked about, which he noticed sitting next to her, was how pretty she was. Oh, she wasn’t showy. She didn’t try to be a diamond, not in word, action or look. But there was something about her that was undeniably attractive. And it wasn’t just her stunning eyes and full lips. She was just…pretty.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice so only she would be able to hear him. “You know, that poor cow was killed once already, Emma.”
She jerked her gaze to him, eyes suddenly wide as she stammered, “I-I beg your pardon, Your Grace.”
“I said the poor cow was already killed once and you are murdering it all over again by dragging it around your plate with that fork.”
She looked down at the tracks she’d made in her food and then back up to him. And to his great surprise and utter triumph, she smiled. It was a broad, utterly honest expression, and for a moment he could hardly breathe. Her entire face lit up with it and there he saw the diamond she never allowed herself to be.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, completely oblivious to his thoughts. “The food is wonderful, I’m just…”
She trailed off and he cocked his head. “Just?”
She ducked her chin. “Nervous,” she said so softly that he barely heard her.
“Why?” he pressed gently.
