Page 51 of His Scandalous Duchess (Icy Dukes #4)

"That's good," Emma said. "But perhaps it would be wise to set a limit on how much you're willing to invest, or risk until we have a clearer picture of our finances. Cecilia is right to be concerned. We can't afford any missteps."

Cecilia crossed her arms, her expression still stormy, but she didn't argue further. Howard sighed again, running a hand through his graying hair. "You're right, but I won't have my own children questioning my judgment at every turn."

He paused again and placed both hands on his hips.

"We would need to sell some of your jewelry.

The pearls, perhaps, or the garnet necklace.

They're just sitting in the drawer, unused.

The funds from selling them could cover the cost of a new dress for Cecilia and also, a fraction of my business ventures. "

Cecilia let out an exasperated sigh. "We are selling jewelry... again?"

"We need to keep up appearances," he rasped. "If we're seen struggling, it will only make things worse. No one will want to associate with us, let alone consider you as a potential match."

Emma's chest ached as she listened to the exchange.

She knew her father wasn't entirely wrong.

Appearances mattered in their world. But the suggestion to sellherjewelry stung more than she cared to admit.

It wasn't just about the money, it was the unspoken implication behind his words.

He had given up on her. He didn't think she was a prospect in the marriage mart anymore, and her jewelry was now seen as expendable, a resource to be used for the family's future instead.

"All right," Emma said, her voice calm but firm, cutting through the tension. "Father is right. We need to do what's best for the family. If selling my jewelry will help, then we'll sell it."

Cecilia turned to her then glanced at their father before turning back to take her seat, crossing her arms.

"They will be put to good use," Emma said. "Right, Papa?"

Their father hesitated. He cleared his throat, nodding. "Yes, of course," he said quickly, though he couldn't quite meet her eyes. "The funds will go toward Cecilia's dress and... and other necessities. It's a practical decision. A necessary one."

Emma nodded, her smile tight. "Then it's settled," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Emma forced a smile, partially relieved that the commotion had died down.

Lately, she had noticed that Cecilia had formed a habit of questioning their father's every move.

Although Emma wanted nothing more but for peace to reign, she could understand why Cecilia was being so cautious.

Their father had made one too many mistakes.

In the midst of their brief tranquility that had settled over them, a sharp knock at the door interrupted them. The butler, Mr. Harris, appeared in the doorway. "You have a guest, my lord," he answered, bowing slightly. "The Duke of Montclaire, has arrived."

"Did you say the Duke of Montclaire?" Emma asked almost immediately, hoping that she had heard wrongly.

Emma glanced at Cecilia just in time to see her face drain of color as she took a step back. "The duke?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What is he doing here?"

Emma's jaw tightened, her earlier softness replaced by a steely resolve."Perhaps Papa had business with him," she said, turning to Howard.

Howard in response, shrugged his shoulders. "I've never met the duke. Before yesterday, I didn't even know His Grace had a son."

"Emma, that man scares me," Cecilia whispered, catching Emma off guard. "He is so intimidating and... brutish. What do you think he wants?"

"I don't know," Emma answered.

"Do you think someone saw us last night?" Cecilia asked, clasping her hands together. "Has he come here to demand my hand in marriage to... salvage his reputation?"

"I don't think that's what it is, Cecilia."

"Because I've had time to think and I do not want to be entangled with that man," she continued speaking in a hurried tone. "It's like you said. I was foolish to do that, and I regret it. The last thing I want is to marry a man that makes it somewhat impossible to breathe in his presence."

Emma turned to Cecilia. "I need you to breathe, sister."

"Has he come here to claim recompense?" she asked again. "Or–"

"Cecilia, enough," Emma said, shooting her a stern glance. "You will compose yourself. We have a guest."

Cecilia drew in a shuddery breath and nodded. "I'm sorry. I just... Emma, you have to help me fix it."

Emma turned back around just as the duke walked into the room, his presence immediately commanding the space.

His tall frame seemed to fill the doorway, his dark coat impeccably tailored and his expression unreadable.

Those piercing emerald eyes swept over the room, lingering briefly on Cecilia, who instinctively took a step closer to Emma, before settling on Emma herself.

There was a sharpness in his gaze, a calculating edge that made her spine stiffen, but she refused to show any sign of unease.

She straightened her shoulders, her chin lifting slightly as she met his gaze head-on.

Whatever he was here for, she had to be ready for it. Emma made a mistake, but that was all it was. There was no reason to punish her any further.