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The butler retreated, leaving a heavy silence in the room. Emily glanced over at her mother.

“Well,” Octavia drawled, “would you like to tell me who you are expecting?”

Emily swallowed. “N-No. Whose cards are they, Mama? Anything from any gentlemen?”

“No, no gentlemen,” Octavia responded, setting the cards aside and leaning forward. “Emily, I have been thinking. At the end of this Season, I think you and I should go to Bath for a few months. It’s such a pleasant place, and it’ll be a good opportunity for us both to rest and recover. This Season has not been a nice one. You have suffered a great deal, I know that. And with Daphne already suffering from morning sickness—heavens, I can recall howIsuffered from that—she’ll need us at our best, ready to assist her.”

Emily said nothing for a moment, staring down at her plate.

“You don’t believe I’ll marry this Season, do you, Mama?”

Octavia looked a little embarrassed. “I think perhaps you have burned your bridges a little too decisively, my dear. You know that I love you, and I shall always love you, but perhaps we ought to plan for the future ahead of us, not the future wewishwe had.”

There was a long silence between the two of them. While Emily was struggling to come up with a response, the butler reappeared in the doorway. The man looked bewildered.

“My Lady, you have a guest. A… A gentleman.”

“A gentleman?” Octavia echoed. “At this hour?”

The butler swallowed. “It’s the Duke of Clapton, Your Ladyship.”

There was a taut silence. Octavia’s gaze flickered to her daughter, her lips twitching.

“The duke?” she repeated. “Goodness. What a surprise. Well, you had better show him in, then.”

The butler winced. “My apologies, Your Ladyship, but the duke is… he’s already inside. I tried to tell him he had to wait outside, but he would not listen. He is in the parlor.”

Octavia gave a wry smile, rising to her feet. She glanced at Emily, raising her eyebrows. “I see. Well, shall we see what he wants, Emily? Although I rather think that one of us already knows what he wants.”

Emily bit her lip, smoothing down her skirts and praying for her nerves to settle. “If you say so, Mama.”

* * *

Cassian was a little annoyed at himself. There was no need fornerves, and yet the uncomfortable feeling he was not familiar with bubbled in his gut.

He had not slept well the previous night. After asking his butler to organize a carriage to take Emily home—his butler was a discreet man, and would not breathe a word—he had retreated to his room, undone the buttons on his breeches, and slid a hand below his waistband. A man could not rest in such a state.

I should have let her touch me.

He pushed that thought away firmly. He had a reason for what he had done last night. He did not want Emily to fall in love with him, of course. This marriage was all a matter of convenience, and feelings on either side would only complicate matters.

I do not have feelings for the girl.It would simply be impractical. Didn’t I promise Matthew that I would never make such a foolish mistake? If I must seduce her into marriage, then I shall do that.

He had tried his best not to think about the deadline his wretched father had set. But he knew that the deadline was approaching fast. Soon, it would be too late to produce an heir, and he would lose his inheritance.

It was most likely that Emily would have no trouble conceiving a baby. After all, her mother had produced three children with ease.

And then we can separate if we wish.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

She won’t wish to live with me. She simply won’t.

He heard footsteps approaching and got up neatly from the armchair he’d chosen.

Lady St. Maur entered the room first, with Emily trailing behind her. Emily’s eyes were wide, landing on him at once with something like… warmth.

“Your Grace,” Lady St. Maur greeted smoothly, flashing a smile that did not reach her eyes. “What an unexpected pleasure.”