Page 13 of A Duke Reformed (Icy Dukes #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

" Y our Grace! What a pleasant surprise."

Emma was walking beside Cecilia, her arm linked with Her's, while Howard led the way when Solomon stopped them in their tracks. It was easy to tell that her father was very excited to meet the duke again, but Solomon didn't seem bothered by Howard's enthusiasm.

Solomon placed both hands behind him, his sharp gaze shifting from Howard to the rest of the family.

Again, like she had noticed before, he effortlessly commanded attention, his presence both imposing and magnetic.

Her father, however, seemed entirely undaunted by the duke's aura, judging from how excited he looked to see the man.

"Greetings, Lord Lockhart," he answered plainly. "You're out for a morning stroll with your family, I take it?"

Howard beamed, clearly thrilled by Solomon's acknowledgment. "Indeed we are, Your Grace. The weather is far too fine to waste indoors. Isn't that right, ladies?" He turned to Emma and Cecilia, his eyes sparkling with pride.

Emma forced a polite smile, though her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Her father's lack of subtlety was painfully obvious, and she couldn't help but cringe as he gestured animatedly, his cane swinging precariously close to a passing couple.

"Yes, Father," she said and cleared her throat. "It is a lovely day."

Cecilia, standing beside her, nodded quickly but remained silent.

Solomon's gaze flicked to Cecilia before settling on Emma. "Miss Lockart," he said. "A pleasure to see you again."

Emma inclined her head. "Likewise, Your Grace."

Howard clapped his hands together. "Your Grace, you must join us for a turn about the park! We would be honored to have your company."

Solomon hesitated, his gaze flicking to Emma as though waiting for her reaction. But before she could say anything, he nodded. "I would be delighted, Lord Lockhart."

To Howard's surprise, Solomon did not join him to continue the walk.

He walked behind, by Emma's side as they strolled down Hyde Park.

Dorothy and Phillip played in the front, chasing each other and once Solomon started walking by their side, Cecilia took her cue and increased her pace to join her father in the front.

She hadn't expected him to choose to walk with her, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. But she couldn't say anything.

"Your father seems... enthusiastic," Solomon said.

Solomon glanced at her, his eyes searching her face. "What's wrong?" he asked. "I know you're not the most cheerful person, but you seem awfully gloomy today."

Emma hesitated, unsure how much to reveal.

She didn't want to admit that she was angry with her father, angry about the fact that they had no choice but to let Lord Pearlton keep being close to Cecilia just because the outlook might benefit them in the future.

The thought of her sister being subjected to that man's advances, his leering smiles, his too-familiar touches made her blood boil.

But she couldn't say any of that to Solomon. Not here. Not now.

"It's nothing," she said finally. "Just... family matters."

Solomon raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Family matters..." he repeated. "That's a rather broad term. Care to elaborate?"

Emma shot him a sharp look. "Not particularly, no."

"You can be quite impossible, Ducky," Solomon said and shook his head. "I'm following your instructions."

"No," she answered. "You're prying."

"This is prying?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, Your Grace. It is," she answered.

Solomon scoffed. "So if I am to inquire about the pleasantness of the weather, that is deemed acceptable, but should I dare to ask after your family, I am suddenly guilty of unwarranted intrusion?"

Emma inclined her head. "Precisely."

"That is the most nonsensical distinction I have ever heard."

"It is not nonsensical in the least," she countered. "There is a huge difference between asking what I think of the weather, and asking about my family troubles."

"It is entirely nonsensical." He exhaled, shaking his head. "By your logic, I may ask if you favor tea or coffee, but I mustn't express the slightest curiosity as to why you favor one over the other."

Emma squinted her eyes, utterly flabbergasted by the manner in which his mind worked. This man took the simplest of exchanges and unraveled them, picking apart their meaning as though engaged in some grand philosophical debate.

It ought to be frustrating. It was frustrating.

But yet, she could not deny the truth staring her in the face.

She was fascinated.

"You are the most perplexing person I have ever come across, Your Grace," she murmured, unable to keep the bemusement from her tone.

Solomon arched a brow. "Am I?"

"Indeed," she said, eyeing him as though he were some great mystery in need of solving.

"I have never before met a man so determined to strip the flesh from conversation until only the bones of logic remain.

It is as if your mind cannot help but untangle the most trivial of matters and demand answers where none are needed.

Is it not exhausting to constantly have questions? "

"It's frustrating," he said. "So the sooner I understand, the better. Which remind me. Since we are already together now, can we have our next etiquette lesson?"

Emma eyed him warily. "You wish to begin your lesson here? Now?"

Solomon gestured around them. "I see no reason to delay."

Emma sighed and nodded. The walk was a good opportunity to get one lesson done. Besides, they were walking alone, so no one was going to pry.

"Very well, Your Grace," she started by saying. "Since you are so eager to learn, let us begin with something of great importance. Your attire."

His gaze flicked down to himself, brows lifting. "What of it?"

"What you wear matters just as much as how you behave. The ton notices everything, and your attire is the first thing they will judge you on."

Solomon nodded, his expression serious now. "Go on."

"For formal events like balls or evening soirées, you'll need a black or dark blue tailcoat, preferably made of wool," Emma began.

"Pair it with a white waistcoat, a cravat tied in a Mathematique or L'Orientale style, and black trousers.

Your boots should be polished to a mirror shine, and don't forget gloves white kid gloves are the standard. "

"That is exactly how I dress," he said and scanned himself again. "Emma, that is exactly what I'm wearing."

"That is my point, Your Grace," she said to him. "Are we at a ball? Or an evening soiree?"

Solomon opened his mouth, then promptly shut it. His brow furrowed as he glanced around, as if the scenery might suddenly transform into a grand ballroom to prove him right.

"Well..." he said at last. "No, we are not at a ball."

"Precisely. And yet, here you stand, attired as though you are about to waltz."

He scoffed. "Surely, it is not such a grave offense to be well-dressed?"

"You should be appropriately dressed," she corrected him. "That matters just as much as being well dressed."

Solomon exhaled slowly and nodded. "Very well. I take your point. What, then, should I wear for different occasions?"

Emma smiled to herself, thankful that he was actually listening. "For a morning walk in the park, a frock coat in a lighter color would be more appropriate. Paired with tan trousers and a simpler cravat. And certainly no white kid gloves."

"All right," was all he said, again looking down at what he was wearing.

Emma's lips twitched at his admission, but she did not gloat.

Instead, she clasped her hands before her, assuming an air of authority.

"If you are merely at home or engaged in light activity, like reading in your study or taking breakfast, a banyan or a well-tailored morning coat with a plain waistcoat and cravat will suffice.

A gentleman's attire in his own home is informal but never slovenly no matter how much comfort he may crave. "

"Now, for daytime engagements..." she continued.

"... errands, or simply being out and about, you must wear a dark-colored frock coat over a lightly patterned or buff waistcoat, with trousers or breeches in a complementary shade.

For town wear, trousers are preferred, particularly if you mean to walk along Bond Street.

Hessian boots are standard... riding boots are also suitable. "

"My goodness, this is a lot of information to take in at once," Solomon sighed.

Emma chuckled, shaking her head in amusement.

"Indeed, it is. But fear not, Your Grace.

A visit to a reputable tailor will see you properly outfitted for every occasion.

Once you have a wardrobe suited to your station, dressing appropriately will become second nature.

Do you have a tailor, or might I suggest one? "

"I can ask Andrew, my business partner," he said to her. "He should be able to help in that regard."

"Perfect," Emma said, recalling that Andrew had impeccable dress sense.

They continued their conversation, taking turns around the park.

This was, perhaps, the most civil and untroubled conversation they had ever shared and it warmed Emma's heart.

Solomon now seemed willing to listen. It was a startling change, and yet, not entirely unwelcome.

For the first time, she felt the tension between them ease, replaced by something dangerously close to familiarity.

And though she would never admit it aloud, she found herself growing. .. comfortable in his presence.