Page 64 of A Dashing Duke for Emily

She came over and wound her arm around Mark’swaist.

He took her hand and released himself from her hold by turning from the scoop of herarm.

“I hope you enjoy yourself, but please remember this is partially a working weekend for me. I am tasked with firming up a tour for my protégé, Miss Dunn. There are a number of guests who are of the London and European musical circles and I must give them a great deal of my personal attention throughout theweekend.”

Sophie pouted. “You are beastly, Mark. I want to have fun. Why must you always be working on something? Work is for weekdays. Weekends are supposed to be for sport, laughter, andgaiety.”

“Well, it is still only Friday, so you must give me some leeway,” he saidteasingly.

“Well, then, are there any charming young gentlemen with whom I may amuse myself while you abandonme?”

“Let me see. There is the charming Mr. Clinton, who is a banker in attendance with his arthritic wife, Clementine. And there is the gentleman from Whitehall who perambulates in a wheelchair and coughs up phlegm. And, lest we forget, there is the delightful Chester Savoy, my charming sister’s husband who comes from a brewing family. I am sure any or all of them would be delighted to entertainyou.”

“Oh, Mark, you are a terrible bother. I am not certain I even want tostay.”

“But then you will miss out on Miss Dunn’s--what I am certain will be--charmingrecital.”

Sophie threw her hand up in the air. “Oh, I can hardly wait for that yawn. I can see this is to be a long and boring weekend. I am so glad I brought along my intriguing novel. I shall bury myself under the covers and read all night and sleep in allday.”

“You may do exactly as you wish, my dear Sophie. And I promise to spend time with you at some point during the weekend. Perhaps we might go riding, or hunting, if there are others who would be interested. Is that something you mightenjoy?”

She came over and took his arm and snuggled up to him and said coyly, “What I would really like is to snuggle up to you next to a cozy fire, wrapped in a blanket, and sipping your wonderful agedcognac.”

“But, my dear Sophie, it is almost summer and we are not keeping any fires going this time ofyear.”

“But you understand what I am trying to say,” she said, becoming agitated and pulling away fromhim.

Mark sighed. Sophie was becoming more of a burden than a joy, even though they had a longstandingfriendship.

“Sophie, I must go. I have many guests who require my attention. Please know I want you to be here and I trust you will be able to entertain yourself. My staff is always at your disposal if you require anything. Now, if you will excuse me, I must leave. However, I shall see you at dinner this evening, with drinks before in the green salon atseven.”

* * *

Emily had inquired from Wesley where she might find the Duchess. She was in the conservatory and Emily was directed where to findher.

She entered the wonderfully moist and fragrant space and stopped to admire the plants and trees before looking around to find theDuchess.

“Hello? Your Grace? It is Miss Emily Dunn. Are you inhere?”

“Over here, my dear,” a voice called out from a far corner of theglasshouse.

Emily wound her way through the jungle foliage to where the Duchess was standing with a young man carefully placing an arrangement of cut roses in abox.

“Now stuff this wool tightly around the base to support the vase,” the Duchesssaid.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the man said, taking wool out of a bag and stuffing it inside thebox.

The Duchess turned to Emily as she came forward. “What do you think of my entries for the county fair flowercompetition?”

Emily first examined the beautiful arrangement of perfectly formed roses. It consisted of roses of different colors and in various stages of opening—from buds to fully openblooms.

“When is the judging?” sheasked.

“Tomorrow morning. I trust the more open blooms I have cut will last through the night without any petalsfalling.”

“It is magnificent. And what is this secondentry?”

“It is my new variety of African violet. I bred it myself. Is it notlovely?”