Page 5 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke (The Unwanted Debutants #3)

CHAPTER 5

E mma purposefully delayed her breakfast the following morning, for she was in no mood for company—especially her parents’—after last night’s events. Finally, she made her way to the morning room, hoping it would be emptied by this time.

To her surprise, she found the Earl seated alone at the table. He was drinking some coffee while perusing the morning’s paper. He looked up on her entry and rose, greeting her cordially.

“I trust you had a pleasant night, Miss Lovell.”

“Most pleasant, My Lord. You have a very beautiful manor.”

Firman smiled. “You are very kind, Miss Lovell.”

Emma wasn’t sure if she should feel disappointed to find company in the morning room, which she had been avoiding, or be glad for the opportunity and privacy she found with the Earl. Her parents would have wanted that after all.

She made her way to the sideboard to serve herself. And as she filled her plate with food she was barely interested in, a shadow suddenly appeared on her left.

“A lovely morning for scones, is it not?” a familiar and rather unwelcome voice said.

Emma looked up to the sight of Seymore grinning down at her. She returned his humor with a tight smile. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes and move away instead. The memory of his arms around her last night suddenly surfaced in her mind, and Emma quickly returned her gaze to the sideboard in an attempt to hide the warmth that stained her cheeks. Why am I feeling this way? I find this man most disagreeable!

“A morning is only lovely with good company, Your Grace,” she said flatly, moving to the egg dish and helping herself.

“And here I thought it was the food that defined the mood,” he said in ostensible thought as he picked up a plate and made to serve himself.

“The company makes all the impact on one’s appetite or the lack thereof, don’t you think?” she returned, hoping he would take the cue and leave her alone—as unlikely as that was. Seymore, she was coming to realize, was a man stubborn and persistent in his ways...

“I assume that is why you’re filling your plate, Miss Lovell. That you find the company pleasant enough to indulge heartily?” He quirked an insolent brow.

Emma tensed. “I am not one to allow such trivial matters get in the way of my repast,” she responded coolly, her posture stiffening.

“You wound me, Miss Lovell!” He winced, his hand theatrically clutching at his heart.

“Good,” she returned briskly, not bothering to mask the bite in her tone.

“What did I ever do to you to be so unwelcome?” He served himself some coddled eggs and sausages before moving on to the tomatoes, his movements deliberate.

“Is that even a serious question?” She was unable to believe the nerve of him.

“I suppose I have an idea of how I might have erred.” A smile played on his lips as he acknowledged their difficult past interactions. “You see, one’s plans do not always go as intended, Miss Lovell,” he added, and when she met his gaze, it was searching, intense enough that she suddenly felt invaded. His choice of words struck her as odd, too.

Surely, this is a coincidence.

There was something knowing in his gaze, however. Memories of the conservatory resurfaced, and this time, she was too slow in hiding her fluster; he saw it, and his smile turned sly—almost challenging.

Emma carried her plate from the sideboard and turned, only to see that the Earl was deep in conversation with a gentleman who had occupied one of the chairs next to him. So distracted had she been, she’d neither heard nor noticed the man’s entrance. Seymore appeared just as surprised.

Emma eyed the other empty chair next to the Earl and walked toward it. Seymore walked past her, his strides far more purposeful than her and covering the distance quicker. Her heart raced, and her ire rose. He took the seat and grinned at her, unabashed. Emma’s jaw clenched as she settled for the chair opposite and farther away from the Earl instead.

Firman then went on to introduce the gentleman next to him. He was a Viscount whose title she didn’t bother remembering in her indignation. She felt eyes on her and couldn’t help looking up. Seymore’s gaze was intense from across the table. The smugness about him was almost suffocating, and she struggled to maintain her composure. She took a sip of orange juice, the sweetness helping to calm her frayed nerves—but only slightly.

“It is most refreshing, indeed,” Emma commented aloud, attempting to divert her thoughts.

“As a matter of fact, Miss Lovell, I planted the very tree on the grounds myself,” Firman replied, his voice filled with passion and pride for his horticultural endeavors. Only then did she realize she had given her thoughts a voice.

“It is fruiting marvelously. Francois is beside himself,” the Earl continued, his eyes lighting up with the mention of his estate’s successful harvest.

“I am sure his talents would work wonders with citrus, too,” Emma smiled, aiming to engage further on the topic she found genuinely interesting.

“Oh, wait until you taste his tarts, and orange cakes.” This response came unexpectedly from Seymore.

Emma was not impressed by his intrusion into her conversation with the Earl. He was always wedging himself into discussions in the most inconveniencing of ways. She gave him a displeased look, only for him to return it with another grin that served to infuriate her more. Yet, despite herself, a part of her couldn’t help but find him quite fascinating—the treacherous part.

Emma decided to ignore the Duke and returned her attention to Firman, hoping to redirect the conversation. “What other fruits do you have on the property, My Lord?”

“There are lemons and apples. Strawberries in the greenhouse…” Seymore listed once more before the Earl could respond.

Emma felt her fingers curl tighter around her fork. He was doing it again. And that impudent grin remained pasted on his face.

“That is correct, Miss Lovell,” Firman confirmed with a nod. “I have some blueberries, black currants, and some plums, as well.”

“Impressive,” Emma managed to say, trying to keep her tone even. “Do not tempt me to spend my springs and summer here.”

“You are more than welcome to, Miss Lovell, and my sister has taken a liking to you.”

Symore cleared his throat. “Firman has some dried figs and bananas imported from around the world. I am sure he will grow them once he discovers a way to make them thrive in English soil.”

“What do you not have, My Lord?” Emma chuckled, purposefully making sure to avoid Seymore’s gaze and pretend as though he hadn’t just spoken. She was also attempting to be flirtatious.

“I should show you the nursery sometime, Miss Lovell,” Firman unexpectedly suggested, his invitation had her blinking.

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Emma tried to hide the wave of guilt that coursed through her with a smile.

“I haven’t been in there a while. I should join you,” the Duke suggested, inserting himself into the invitation.

“We can all make a visit then,” Firman decided, much to Emma’s dismay.

She nearly groaned aloud in frustration. She reached for her steaming mug of coffee in an effort to distract herself from her anger. Perhaps she should declare war on the Duke, for a more irksome human being she had never met.

“What a lovely day to be outside!” a woman’s voice suddenly joined them in the breakfast room. It was Lady Amberton, her presence always marked by a vibrant cheer. “I’m having the carriages prepared. I think we should put the clement weather to use and take a trip to the village,” she declared. The Earl nodded in agreement before turning back to Emma.

“You see, Miss Lovell, the weather here is excellent for an orchard. I try to take advantage of that,” he said to her, his voice infused with a passion that was nearly tangible.

“Oh, I can definitely see it,” Emma chuckled, her gaze sweeping over the lush greenery visible through the window. “With such sweet oranges, even I would plant more,” she added playfully, lifting her glass of orange juice to her lips. The Earl laughed heartily at her remark, clearly pleased with her appreciation.

“Oh, Firman, did I tell you that Miss Lovell here found my lost brooch?” Lady Amberton said, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as she turned toward Emma.

“Is that so?” The Earl’s interest was piqued as he directed his attention at Emma.

“It was my pleasure,” Emma replied, her smile genuine. Finding the brooch had been a fortunate accident, but she was glad it had endeared her to Lady Amberton. The woman was agreeable.

Why did you truly do it, Emma? To win their favor? She immediately quieted the probing voice.

“Oh, you saved us a great deal of trouble, Miss Lovell.” the Earl folded the newspaper. “We would have never heard the end of how she lost her precious brooch.” He grinned at his aunt as he finished his coffee.

“Indeed, her lamentations would have been endless, and now she will never stop talking about you, Miss Lovell,” Seymore said mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lady Amberton sent a playful glare in his direction at his remark. In response, he blew her a theatrical kiss, which only caused the Earl to laugh even more. Emma found herself caught up in the jovial atmosphere, her earlier frustrations momentarily forgotten.

After their mirth had subsided, Lady Amberton said, “I shall pair you with Miss Lovell here for our outing, Firman.” Emma sucked in her breath. She ought to be satisfied with the arrangement, yet she was left feeling ill at ease. She looked at Seymore and found him looking almost displeased. Despite herself, she decided to play his game and grace him with a wide, smug grin. His eyes flashed at the challenge.

“Did you say you were paired with the Earl?” Caroline clapped her hands together in ecstasy in Emma’s bedchamber. “We must get you dressed to impress,” her mother went on, choosing a dress for her with the lowest neckline she could find.

“I cannot possibly wear that, Mother!” Emma protested. It was one of the scandalous dresses her mother had made for her specifically for the house party. Emma had had no intention of ever wearing them, not here, not anywhere else.

Alas, it appeared as though she wouldn’t be able to wiggle out of this one. “I will hear no such thing,” her mother said sternly. “Now get her dressed, Antoinetta!”

Emma slumped onto the bed, dejected. “Dressed, I shall get you, Emma. Do not worry.” Antoinetta wore a sly smile as she produced a sewing kit. Realization dawned on Emma, and a grin crept onto her face. Her lady’s maid made use of her impressive sartorial skills to quickly raise Emma’s neckline before getting her dressed.

“There. All you have to do is avoid your mother,” Antoinetta took a step back to inspect her handiwork.

“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” Emma said hopefully. She did not want Antoinetta getting into trouble and her mother causing a scene because of the raised neckline.

Outside, Lady Amberton showed Emma the carriage she was to ride in with the Earl. She supposed Olivia would be joining them as their chaperone, and she looked forward to a lovely conversation with her. However, when the footman opened the door for her, she found none other than Seymore reclining with a book inside.

He smiled devilishly at her while she looked around the carriage in search of the Earl. “Looking for someone?” he teased.

Before she could respond, the Earl appeared, his smile bright and warm. He gallantly helped Emma into the carriage before joining in. As their journey began, she looked out of the window at the manor fading into the scenery, wondering whether Seymore’s presence was a curse or her saving grace.

She turned to the Earl. “What can you tell me about Firman Manor, My Lord?”

“It was built during the time of the Tudors,” Seymore supplied. “In fact, there was quite the controversy over the manor in the late sixteenth century when it was nearly taken away from the family.”

“How was it retained?” she asked Firman, hoping Seymore would not speak.

“The then Lord Firman courted the Crown’s favor.” Again, the response was not from the man she hoped, and Emma wanted to gouge the Duke’s eyes out.

Firman laughed and encouraged him, saying, “He is right again, Miss Lovell. I tell you, he knows more about the manor and my family history than I do.” He followed that statement with a sheepish smile.

Emma’s eyes found the Duke’s, and he sent her another satisfied smirk. She glared at him.