Page 31 of A Duke Reformed (Icy Dukes #3)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T his is going to be the last lesson, Emma. After this, don't come back here.

Emma stood outside the door to Solomon's ballroom, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the door, her resolve hardening with each passing second.

She had come to terms with it. This would be it.

The last time she would step into the estate, the last time she would have to endure the tension that seemed to hang between them.

Things had gotten too complicated along the way. She had not imagine any of this happening. Her heart had betrayed her.

A sudden draft from within the room stirred the hem of her dress, breaking her from her thoughts. She straightened, took a steadying breath, and pushed the door open.

As Emma stepped into the room, her eyes immediately found Solomon standing by the tall window, his back to her. He was staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. For a moment, Emma just stood there, watching him.

Seconds later, Solomon turned around to face her.

He smiled softly on seeing her and instantly stretched his hand to her, waiting for her to take it.

Emma said nothing too as she strolled across the room to take his hand.

His eyes softened, but only slightly and it caught Emma off guard.

Day after day, it seemed as though Solomon was changing. He was quieter, more... human.

His fingers tightened around hers as he slowly drew her into the dance.

"Your Grace, we still have no music," she said to him in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Solomon chuckled. "That's... I didn't think of it. I apologize. I could get someone to come and play the piano if you'd like."

"There's no need. We are doing just fine," she said to him, smiling. "Your Grace... Are you all right?"

Solomon looked down at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't talk as much as you used to," she said to him. "You don't argue back these days and it leaves me feeling guilty when I say anything."

His hand tightened around her waist. "I don't think we argue, Emma. We have heated conversations, that is all. Delightful... heated conversations."

"Delightful?" she raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure you mean troubling."

"I mean what I said," he said, looking down at her.

His gaze drifted from her face to the floor, as if searching for the right words, or perhaps for clarity in his own thoughts.

"There are so many unspoken things between us, Emma.

I'm sure you must have noticed it by now," he began.

"And frankly, I needed time to think. To understand what it is I think I want. "

Emma felt a knot tighten in her chest. He was right. There had been so much they hadn't said, so much that hung in the air between them, unaddressed. She looked up at him, searching his eyes. "So what conclusion have you come to, Your Grace?" she questioned.

Solomon sighed. His gaze drifting back to her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a trace of frustration in his eyes, he shook his head. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I don't know yet what I feel, Emma. It's...it's complicated."

There was so much Emma wanted to say in that moment, so many questions she needed answers to. Why he had touched her lips in that hallway for one. But she didn't say anything yet. She waited, piecing together her thoughts.

"Well... we can start by talking about the little things. Answer the questions we both have about each other. Maybe that way, the tension between us will ease a bit. What do you think?" she asked.

Solomon inhaled sharply and nodded. "All right. Let me start by asking. How's my dancing so far?"

"It's a bit stiff actually, Your Grace," she answered without hesitation. "Like you're trying too hard to look composed. There's no flow. You're too...tense. Dance with me. Not at me. Where did you learn to dance?"

Solomon raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips lifting just slightly. "My mother taught me."

Emma's smile dropped instantly. She opened her mouth to speak but only stuttered instead. "And she did a... wonderful job!"

Solomon threw his head back, laughing. It was so hearty.

.. so unexpected that Emma felt a flicker of warmth despite herself.

His laugh was deep and genuine, and the sound echoed off the walls of the room.

For a moment, the tension between them seemed to vanish. He looked down at her, still grinning.

"Thank you, Emma," he said, still chuckling. "I'm sure she would be glad to hear the compliment."

Emma couldn't help but smile, the sound of his joy lifting her spirits. "From what I can tell, Your Grace... you seem to have cared a great deal about your mama."

Solomon's laughter tapered off, and he exhaled slowly, his expression shifting. He looked down at her with a slight smile still dancing on his lips. "Yes, I did, Ducky," he answered quietly.

Solomon stopped speaking, and for a short while, they only swaying back and forth to the music in their head before he spoke again. "You asked me why I made the decision not to have children, Ducky. I'll tell you."

Emma's brow furrowed, her heart skipping a beat as she nodded. Slowly, she brought the dance to a halt and took a step back, ready to listen without judgement. Solomon on the other hand, crossed his arms and began to pace.

"My mother was my father's... secret," he started to say.

"I never knew him. My mother kept him from me.

Growing up, she told me my father died at sea.

But the truth was, she slept with a married man.

When she finally told me about him... when she couldn't keep it a secret anymore because people came looking for me, she claimed that she and my father were madly in love. "

Solomon let out a scoff and shook his head. Emma could see the struggle in his eyes, the emotion that flickered like a flame behind them.

"But when she got pregnant with me, he abandoned her," he continued.

"He told her he could never marry her. She had no title, no standing in society.

My mother was nothing more than an affair.

So, she left London and moved to Northen England, to heal from her broken heart and raise me. But she never healed, Emma."

"You said so." Emma's voice cracked.

"She was broken up until the day she died.

She could never love again or even function properly like a happy person.

She did her best, and in a way, I understand why she did what she did.

.. but I cannot forgive her for it. And I cannot forgive the man that they call my father.

" Solomon paused and clicked his tongue.

"Do you know he never wanted to find me?

Even until his dying breath, he knew I existed but he did not want to look for me.

But because he had no heir... no one to carry on his legacy, he named his heir in his final breath. "

Emma took a step forward. "Solomon, I am so sorry."

"So, tell me this, Emma. Why should I continue that man's name?" he asked. "Why should I let the Miller name live on? That's all he cared about. He took my mother's happiness, and he turned my life upside down. The only way that I can ever get back at him is by doing this."

Emma's heart ached as Solomon's words sank in, his pain bleeding into every syllable.

She understood him now, perhaps more than ever before.

She understood the anger, the grief, the resentment.

She stood there, on the verge of tears. How could she protest?

How could she convince him that he should have children when he clearly explained why he didn't want to.

Solomon was right. He was a man defined by his father's mistakes, and perhaps the only way to find peace was to break free from it entirely. She couldn't tell him that he was wrong.

"It doesn't matter anyway," he continued to say.

"I'll be leaving London soon, and when I do, I'll make sure to avoid coming back as much as possible.

What's the point, really? This place, this world.

.. it's all a trap. The wealth, the titles.

..they strip away any power a man might have to make his own decisions.

I cannot be shackled by expectations that have nothing to do with who I truly am or what I want.

" He paused, his eyes meeting hers, the tension in the air palpable.

"I survived the Season and with your help, I made some new business partners. So, I'd call that a success."

Emma swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat, but despite her best efforts, the tears began to fall. She quickly wiped them away, trying to hide her reaction, but it was useless. Her breath hitched, and the dam broke.

"Emma!"

Solomon saw her and the next second, the distance between them seemed to vanish as he took a step forward, reaching out for her. He was about to take her hand but she shook her head, retreating a few steps.

"I must go," she whispered, the words coming out shakier than she'd intended. "I cannot... I cannot stay here."

But before she could turn and flee, his hand gently grasped her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. "No," he said firmly. "You are not going anywhere. Not like this."

"Solomon, I want to go," she said to him. "I need to leave."

"And I'm asking you to wait," he whispered reaching for her face. "What did I say this time?"

"You're leaving!" she blurted through her tears. "You have made up your mind. You're leaving. You gotten what you wanted... your business partners and I am very happy for you. Now, I must go. My work here is done."