Page 39 of A Duke Reformed (Icy Dukes #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

L ike Andrew had said, Lord Alexandar's ball had everyone of importance in attendance.

Solomon arrived just as the second set was beginning.

He had returned to his London estate only moments before and had taken no second to rest. Instead, he changed swiftly into attire suitable for the occasion, a deep navy coat with silver embroidery, crisp white cravat, and a pair of black trousers.

As soon as he stepped into Lord Alexander's grand ballroom, he started on his mission. He was there for one reason, and one reason alone.

There was no time for distraction.

It was obvious that the crowd took notice of him. The moment he stepped into the room, the atmosphere shifted. Heads turned. Conversations faltered, eyes widened on seeing him, people whispered, stealing glances at him.

But he ignored all of it and continued his search.

It didn't take long until he found her. Standing beside her sister near the refreshments table, dressed in a soft blue gown that shimmered beneath the chandelier light.

Her profile was turned slightly, and a polite smile playing on her lips as she spoke.

She didn't see him. She was too engrossed in her conversation with Cecilia.

Solomon stilled.

For a moment, the noise of the ballroom faded. The voices, the violins...none of it touched him. All he could see was her, and against his will, something in his chest eased. He had missed her. More than he had admitted. More than he had understood.

Solomon crossed the room swiftly, his eyes never leaving her. All he could see in that moment, all he could feel, was her.

He stopped in front of her, bowing his head slightly in greeting. "Miss Lockhart," he breathed. "May I speak with you? Alone."

Emma blinked. Her lips parted, but no sound came. She was visibly stunned. Her hands twitched slightly, and the glass of wine in her hand faltered.

When she did not answer, he asked again, clearing his throat first, "Emma? A moment."

The silence between them stretched, taut and uncertain. Emma just stared at him, blinking constantly.

Cecilia looked from Solomon to Emma, then gave Solomon a discreet smile. "I shall go admire the flower arrangements. I hear the Marquees' gardener is famous for his...peonies." She gave Emma a quick squeeze on the arm and slipped away, leaving them alone in the corner of the ballroom.

The moment Cecilia stepped away, the silence continued to stretch between them. The music swelled in the background, people scattered around, but Solomon didn't move. He stayed close, yet careful to give her space.

Emma glanced around, uncertain, then looked up at him. "You're here," she said quietly, as though the sight of him still hadn't settled into her mind.

"Did you come for the ball, Your Grace?" She seemed to have gathered herself, as the fierce look in her eyes that he was all too familiar with returned.

Solomon's eyes searched hers as he took in the moment. His first instinct was to tell her the truth. That he had come back for her, that he hadn't slept a full night since learning of her supposed engagement, that every hour away from her had been tormented by confusion and longing.

But he stopped himself.

He paused to consider. What good would it do to lay himself bare? What if she didn't care? What if she had meant to push him away? He would confront her, and that would be the end of it. What reason would he have to see her again?

"I had some things to take care of in town. Lord Alexander's ball seemed as good a place as any to start the evening."

He paused and offered her a small smile. "Also, I didn't want to miss your wedding."

Emma blinked, startled. "My... ?"

"Wedding. To Edmund," he clarified smoothly, eyes locked on hers. "You are engaged, are you not? I assume the wedding is soon. I thought I ought to extend my congratulations in person."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Oh, yes. That is quite thoughtful of you, Your Grace," she finally said. "Thank you. Preparations are going well."

He nodded slowly. "How is Edmund?" he asked, placing both hands behind his back. "I hope everything is truly going well. If there's anything I can do to help with the preparations, do let me know."

"We have everything covered, Your Grace," she replied hastily this time. "Edmund is taking care of everything."

Solomon's jaw tightened as a rush of jealousy spiked through him. He should have expected it. Should have braced himself for her to double down on the lie. Yet, it still stung. Why was she so determined to keep the lie up?

"Well, I should be congratulating you as well, shouldn't I?" Emma's voice snapped him back to reality. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring intently at him.

"Congratulate me?" Solomon's brow creased. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why, yes," she responded. "Your engagement. In the North. I imagine your bride is thrilled."

Solomon blinked, completely thrown. "My bride?"

Solomon stared at her, then slowly glanced around the ballroom. Now the stares made sense. He had dismissed them as nothing earlier, but he could not deny that the attention was more intense than before.

"What exactly did you hear?" he asked and crossed his arms too. "What news of mine has spread all the way to London?"

Emma's chin lifted in defiance. "They say you went to the North not for business, but for a proposal. Marriage with the daughter of a powerful lord there. That you've even rented an estate to begin the transition."

Solomon didn't answer right away. His silence stretched long enough that Emma shifted on her feet, unsettled. He blinked, taking in her words. Then he gave a low breath, the kind that masked irritation under restraint. "I see."

The idea of it was absurd. Marriage? To a stranger? He hadn't even met any women during his time up North, save for the housekeeper and the stablemaster's wife. Where in God's name had the tale come from?

He then thought of the estate he had rented up North. It had belonged to a powerful local lord, yes. But Solomon hadn't met the man. He hadn't even known the lord had a daughter. Was that it? Had the sheer fact that he'd taken up residence in such a place birthed the rumor?

"You're not denying it," Emma added, practically glaring at him.

"Emma, I don't have to explain myself to you," he shot back, knowing fully well that his response was only going to rile her up.

Her eyes widened, a flash of disbelief crossing her face. "I see." She swallowed. "So, why did you come to me, Your Grace? To ask after my engagement and offer help?"

Solomon stiffened. "Would you have preferred I stayed away?"

"You should have, if this was your idea of a visit," she said with a shake of her head. "I cannot believe you, Your Grace. You go up North and return with a potential wife as if none of your principles matter."

His brow furrowed. "Is that what this is about?"

"I'm just surprised, that is all," she said, arms crossed.

"It goes against everything you claimed that you were.

I mean, not long ago did you say you would never marry if it meant leading someone into a life where they would never have a family.

Yet apparently you have changed your mind.

You are willing to subject an innocent lady to a childless marriage for some business deal? "

He raised a brow. "How do you know she didn't agree to it?"

Emma blinked. "What?"

"What if she doesn't want children either?" he pressed, folding his arms. "What if, unlike you, she understands that not every marriage needs to follow the same tired script? What if she just wants the convenience and protection of marriage but without the troubles of childbirth?"

"You're saying she wants... that?" Emma asked incredulously. "A cold, empty home? A lifetime of silence and–"

"Emma–" Solomon tried to interrupt.

"Do you even know her?" she fired back. "Did you truly tell her, Solomon? Did you look her in the eye and tell her that if she marries you, she will never hold a child in her arms? No one is asking you to change your principles or your rules, but it is paramount that you consider other people too."

His jaw clenched. "That is none of your concern."

"You don't want her to resent you later," Emma still pressed on. "What if one day, she wakes up and decides that she cannot do this anymore. What if she demands that–"

"Don't put words in her mouth," Solomon interrupted her. "You don't know her."

Her expression shifted so suddenly, it caught him off guard.

The fire in her eyes dimmed, giving way to something softer.

..something solemn. Her lashes fluttered, and when she looked up at him again, her eyes glistened.

Large and doe-like. They shimmered with the threat of tears, and her mouth parted slightly as if she meant to say something, but no words came.

She just stood there, quiet. Still. It was so unlike her. No quick retort. No raised chin or narrowed eyes. Just silence.

Solomon looked away briefly, feeling his heart palpitate at the sight of her. It was obvious that he had taken the pretense too far.

He drew in a breath, lowered his head slightly, then looked back at her.

"I'm not engaged to anyone," he said quietly.

"I never was. In fact this is the first I'm hearing of this.

I didn't even know there was such a rumor making its way around the ton .

I rented an estate in Northen England. It belonged to a powerful lord, but I never met his daughter," he added, voice softer now.

Emma drew in a sharp breath at his words. Her spine straightened as she blinked back the emotion clinging to her lashes.

"Like you said, Your Grace... you don't have to explain yourself to me," she said, her voice trembling.

"Yet I find myself constantly wanting to," he answered. "I don't know what else to do, Emma."