The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(20)

“It’s all better,” he mused, a twinkle in his eyes. “Allow me to present to you Miss Gates.”

“A pleasure,” the lady said, hardly glancing at Emma.

“You didn’t even look at her,” Welbourne said.

“Don’t have to. Let me guess her beauty is without compare and my insipid grandson has been sending her searing looks all throughout the evening.”

“Her grace is grossly accurate in her assessment.”

“Well, my girl, let me have a look at you.”

Emma figured that was her cue and abruptly dipped into a low curtsy.

“I see what he means. She does need to eat more, don’t you think, Welbourne? Can’t say I’m surprised she’s caught his fancy.” She stomped her cane inches from Emma’s foot. “I do wonder if she can stretch that young fool, convince him to do something more than what’s expected of him.”

Welbourne nodded. Emma gaped. What was the duchess getting at?

“In fact.” The duchess was now standing between the two of them. “I have many times paid ladies of my influence to trap young Sebastian into marriage. My girl, I have been that desperate.”

Emma nodded, not believing her ears, yet knowing if anyone was to have such a scandalous grandmother, it would be the Duke of Tempest.

“Furthermore, he refused to sleep with all of them! Can you believe that? One was even a French countess! I think I aided his rake’s reputation, but I do not believe he has ever actually been with a woman, if you understand my meaning, my dear.”

Emma felt her face turn hot.

“Don’t look so embarrassed, my girl. It’s not as if I want my grandson to live in sin. Quite the opposite. I was merely hoping to trip him up a bit, if you will. But he wouldn’t take the bait. He has the self-control of a priest.” She shook her head. “But enough of that, I do believe you will do, my girl. You will do fine!”

Emma swallowed. “Do what, your grace?”

“I believe you should convince him.”

“Convince him?” Emma squeaked. “What exactly does he need to be convinced of?”

The duchess grinned, revealing a captivating smile that hid her advanced years. “Convince him to marry you, of course. By any means necessary. I’m desperate, and if I see another debutante throw herself in front of him, I shall not be responsible for my actions, my dear. I’ve been known to cause carriage accidents.”

“Is that true?” Emma turned to Welbourne.

“My dear, you have no idea what she is capable of. It’s why I confess undying love each day.”

“Silly is what you are, Welbourne,” the duchess answered, though not as stern as before. “I’m older than you and much too set in my ways to marry. My grandson, however, is not past seducing.”

Emma looked between the two in shock. They were dead serious. Why was she to be the one to do the seducing? Why her?

“I’m curious why you think I’m up to the task,” Emma said before thinking.

The duchess was nonplussed and shrugged. “I’ve had the pleasure of spending many of my holidays with the Renwicks. On occasion they even let me talk with young Samuel, though Nicholas is convinced I’ll be a terrible influence on the boy.”

“You did introduce young Samuel to the tad pole pond on your estate,” Welbourne interjected.

“Hmm, would that be the same tadpole pond where Samuel found a frog? The same frog he set loose in church?”

The duchess smirked. “I can neither deny nor acknowledge I had any part in that.”

Welbourne rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, my dear, I know you’re a cousin to Sara, whom I also adore. And I’ve heard so many good things, my dear, so many things. I also know of your parents. I think you’d be perfectly suited for my grandson. In fact, I decree that you shall seduce him by any means possible. I’ll even send Welbourne out to catch you in a compromising embrace.”

“Unfortunately, her grace isn’t bluffing.” Welbourne took a long sip of champagne and shook his head. “Oh the things the Duchess of Tempest has done.”

The duchess scoffed. “Silence, Welbourne, do you want to scare her? Run along then.” Heavily jeweled hands pushed her toward the dance floor, toward Sebastian.

Emma was powerless to stop her feet from moving forward. She turned back to the duchess, hoping she would call for her return. Instead she yelled, “And good luck, my dear! You’ll need it!”

Emma’s leaden legs drew her up to the side of the Duke of Tempest. Closing her eyes, she lifted her hand to tap him on the shoulder. He was going to think she was mad. How did one explain to someone that his grandmother was missing the sane parts of her mind?

He didn’t turn around. She tapped him again, this time more insistently.

He still didn’t move.

Drat the man! She stomped on his foot and grabbed him.

A hush went across the ballroom.

Of course.

What had made her think it would be even minutely socially acceptable to grab a duke by the shoulders? Especially one as single and powerful as the Duke of Tempest? Maybe she was the one with the missing marbles.

“Yes?” he asked, turning the full force of his power on her.

Knees shaking, she met his glare.

“I wish to speak with you.”