Page 22 of A Duke Reformed (Icy Dukes #3)

A shadow had falling over them underneath the oak tree where Emma was having a nice picnic with her family before she heard the strange voice. But she had not had time to react before the shadow spoke.

The deep, familiar voice sends a shiver down Emma's spine before she even looked up. Solomon stood before her, his presence as commanding as always.

Earlier that afternoon, Emma and her younger siblings had decided to have a small picnic in the park.

They had stationed underneath an oak tree, with a fine blanket spread over the soft grass while a wicker basket filled with light refreshments sat between them.

Lady Agatha, their chaperone sat with a book in her hands, seemingly so engrossed in it that she too had not noticed the duke.

"Your Grace," Emma breathed, rising to her feet. Her siblings scurried to their feet too, bowing and politely curtsying. He only spared them a glance before concentrating his attention back on Emma.

"What do you mean you're pausing the lessons?" he asked again and crossed his arms. "What did we just talk about the other day about priorities and... reason. Was that all bull?"

Emma clenched her jaw and scanned the park for any prying eyes. "Lady Agatha," she said, turning to the chaperone with as much poise as she could muster, "I shall take a short walk with His Grace. We won't go far."

Lady Agatha rose to her feet to greet Solomon. She glanced between Solomon and Emma before nodding stiffly. "Very well, but do not stray too far from sight, Emma."

Emma wasted no time. She turned to Solomon and tilted her head toward the pathway winding through the park. "Come with me," she said, her voice quieter now, though there was no mistaking the urgency in it.

Solomon exhaled sharply but followed her without hesitation, his long strides easily matching her pace as they moved away from the picnic. The moment they were far enough from prying ears, she turned to him, her fingers tightening around the folds of her dress.

"I apologize, Your Grace," she said to him as they began to slow their stride. "I know the letter was abrupt, but it is what I had to decide."

Solomon's gaze darkened. "And why is that?"

"It's only temporary," she said, glancing at him. "Just for a few weeks. I know these lessons are important to you, and to me, but I need to divert my attention to something else for the time being. At least until it's sorted."

"I am confused, Miss Lockhart," he said and scoffed. "You explained to me that these lessons help you pay for your sister's dowry, and for yours. Do I take it that you've made enough money to cover it?"

"Not at all," she said. "But like I explained, it's only going to be temporary."

"What could be more important than this?"

Emma pressed her lips together, shifting her gaze toward the trees ahead rather than meeting his eyes. "It is simply something I must do."

"Emma, speak plainly," he said to her, throwing his hands in the air. "Give me a good reason."

Emma folded her arms, her fingers gripping the fabric of her gown as though anchoring herself. "My family requires my attention at present. That is all I can say."

Solomon's lips pressed into a firm line. "That is all you will say, you mean."

She exhaled sharply. "Yes, if you prefer it that way."

His frustration flared. "Ducky, I do not enjoy being given half-answers. If there is a problem, why not tell me?"

Emma relaxed her shoulders, almost giving in to the urge to tell him about Lord Pearlton. But she figured it wasn't his problem. It was hers.

Solomon exhaled, his tone shifting, softening. The sharp edge of his frustration dulled, replaced by something quieter, almost careful. He took a step forward and met her eyes.

"Emma, if you require more funds, I am willing to help," he said.

In a fleeting moment, her guarded lowered a bit. She had expected him to be annoyed, perhaps even dismissive. Instead, he was offering assistance, not with condescension, but with what seemed like genuine sincerity. She turned her face away, eyes fixed on the gravel path beneath their feet.

"It is not about money," she said, her voice quieter than she intended.

"Then tell me what it is about," he pressed. "Let me help."

"That is not what this is about," Emma said with a frustrated sigh. "I appreciate the concern, but this is something I must handle on my own. I don't need help. It's personal and I need some time."

Solomon exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face before leveling her with a pointed stare. "That is a ridiculous excuse."

Emma's brows snapped together. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said. "You need some time? That is the best you can give me?"

Her temper flared. "And I thought you were a man who respected decisions that were not his to make."

He let out a short laugh. "Respect your decision?" He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "How am I meant to respect a decision when you won't even tell me why you're making it?"

"Because it is none of your concern," she shot back, her frustration mounting. "It's my decision to make and you're making it personal, Your Grace."

"It is when you are throwing away our arrangement without reason," he countered. "I don't think it's fair that you want to jeopardize our arrangements. Now you suddenly decide you have more important things to do?"

"Yes, why is that such an absurd thing to ask of you?" she questioned. "I would have hoped that you'd understand."

Solomon stared at her, as if searching her face for the answer she refused to give. The tension between them crackled like a storm, neither willing to be the first to back down. Unable to bear his heavy gaze any longer, Emma curtsied, preparing to leave.

"If you would excuse me, Your Grace," she said. "I must return to my siblings."

Emma barely made it two steps before she felt the firm grasp of his hand around her wrist, halting her retreat.

"Your Grace," she said, low and urgent, refusing to look at him. "Let go."

He did not.

Her pulse pounded in her ears and her breath suddenly became unsteady. They had never stood this close before, close enough that she could feel the heat coming from his body. He towered over her and did not look away, making it impossible to think clearly.

"This is not a good look," she forced out, her voice lacking the sharpness she intended.

Still, he did not move. His grip on her arm was warm, solid, sending an unwelcome thrill through her veins.

"Emma," he said softly, her name rolling off his tongue like something intimate, something meant only for her. She swallowed hard, willing herself to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver through her.

"You are the first acquaintance I have made in London apart from Andrew, my business partner," he continued. "You have been a good guide through all of this and I do appreciate your lessons. I would like to think we have built a good relationship."

Emma clenched her jaw, looking away, but he pressed on.

"I am only trying to help, Ducky," he admitted. "I cannot shake off the feeling that something is bothering you. I am not one to pry, you know this. But you are not a stranger to me anymore."

Her chest ached at his words... the sincerity in them.

He seemed as though he genuinely cared and that caught her off guard.

It also made it all the more dangerous. She did not want such a relationship with him.

She couldn't have it. It would be like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing the fall would be devastating but unable to resist looking down.

Emma had spent too long guarding herself, too long building walls to keep emotions at bay. But Solomon's sudden kindness, his concern would put a crack in her defenses. And cracks, if left unchecked, would only widen.

She couldn't afford to see him as anything more than what he was, her employer, and a duke. Anything beyond that was a risk she was unwilling to take.

Drawing in a steadying breath, she lifted her chin. "You are reading too much into it, Your Grace," she said, her voice carefully composed. "My family matters do not concern you."

His fingers loosened, and after a moment's hesitation, he let go of her arm. The absence of his touch sent an odd shiver through her spine, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she turned, ready to walk away, but his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Have you found a suitor?"

Emma froze. His words settled over her like an anchor, making it impossible to move, or to breathe.

Her lips parted, but no words came. The silence stretched between them.

Her instinct screamed at her to keep him at a distance.

To push him back behind the line she had so carefully drawn. But still, she said it.

"No," Emma whispered. "There's no suitor."

He exhaled, as though the very air missing between them had been caught in his lungs until that moment. The sound was soft but undeniable, and it stirred something dangerous in her. Something vulnerable and warm.

Solomon exhaled sharply and shook his head. "All right then. I won't ask you any more questions. Just... keep me informed."

Emma sighed, glancing away for a moment before finding his eyes again.

"I am sorry, Your Grace," she said, softer this time.

"But you know more than you think. "You are already blending in well.

You have grasped the basics, and truly, that is all that matters.

I am still here to advise, but our lessons can only resume after I solve this problem. "

"You think I'm making an issue out of this because of the lessons, Ducky?"

Solomon studied her for a long moment as they stood, staring at each other in silence. Then, with a slow breath, he straightened. Without another word, he stepped back, giving her one last look before turning on his heel and walking away.

Emma stood frozen, watching his figure retreat through the park. She felt a pang in her chest and she swallowed. She wondered what this meant. If she even had a job to return to when all of this was all over. She tried to convince herself that this was what she wanted.

Needed.

But she couldn't understand why it felt as though she had just lost something.