The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(8)

“Guess I deserve that for encouraging young Samuel,” Tempest said gloomily.

“Yes well…” Nicholas bowed before finishing. “He’s now playing Mr. Duke in the front of the house and has decided life would be much more fun if he wiped jelly on his nanny and threw caution to the wind.”

Tempest nodded seriously while Emma tried to cover up her laughter.

“What exactly do you mean by—” The duke didn’t get a chance to finish because just then Samuel ran by screaming and stark naked.

“Good day,” Nicholas said, exiting the room at a dead run with Sara following close behind.

“Well, that was more excitement than I had hoped to see this afternoon,” Tempest joked as he rose from his seat.

Emma noticed an envious twitch in his eyes as he straightened his already perfectly smooth jacket.

“Leaving so soon, your grace?”

His pensive gaze traveled across her face before settling on her lips. She hadn’t even had time to lick them as he approached her.

“What would you have me do? Sit in my best friend’s drawing room with his wife’s cousin? Alone? Unchaperoned? Whatever would people say?”

He was openly mocking her, and for some reason, it sent a chill down her spine. He was exciting and she had missed excitement in her life for the past few years.

Gathering her wits, she reached toward an escaped curl on his forehead and pushed it back. “Why, your grace, I have to admit disappointment.”

Without moving he asked, “Disappointment?”

“Of course.” Her hand now rested on his shoulder as she provocatively leaned in. “One would think your reputation was all a ruse. I find myself saddened to see that others’ opinions of you decide with whom you associate and when.”

“Are you implying, dear girl, I should stay and chat like one of your gossip-ridden girl friends?”

“Gossip, no. But ride? I could go for one of those.”

His face blanched. “I’m sorry?”

“A ride through the park, silly.” She slapped him on the shoulder and sauntered away. “That is, only if it does not make you uncomfortable, your grace. After all, I do have a care for your opposition in spending time with a gossip-ridden lady of the ton.”

Emma was on fire. It was exhilarating. The Duke of Tempest wasn’t a man to be trifled with. Yet a part of her was saddened he had never once been the type of man to let his hair down, emotionally that is. Of course, he was known for being the most captivating and joyful of the peerage.

The man couldn’t breathe without the gossip mills finding out about it. She assumed he used his confident and easy-going personality as protection from those who would love nothing more than to see the man fall off his high horse.

Emma, having already fallen off her high horse, felt sympathy for him. It was easy living a life where people put no expectations on you, for your only choice was to keep climbing up. But those who were already the toast of the ton, they were the ones who lived the truly maddening lives. They had to stay in the newspapers and among the gossip during the Seasons affairs, at all costs.

The Duke of Tempest had always been well liked and respected, even among the mamas of the ton. Oh it was common knowledge he’d had his affairs, but the gossips never mentioned courtesans. No, the only women tied to him were the widowed who openly engaged in an affair with him, at least that’s the only information she had heard of him over the years. His reputation was to be spotless. It all started when he saved a small girl from drowning while he was at Eton. The next week he stopped a runaway carriage. The following year he saved the prince himself from a fall down the stairs. Which wasn’t all that heroic, except it saved embarrassing the royal family.

People were ready to have the duke sainted after all those incidents. So, he came to have the nickname “The Angel Duke.” Surely he thought it was silly, but Emma found it odd how easily it fit.

She swallowed and gloomily looked down at her hands. If he only knew what spending time with her would do to him. Well, he would most likely shout at everyone within distance, all the while pushing her in front of the first oncoming carriage.

Her secret was like a disease, making it impossible for her to keep anyone close no matter how badly she desired it.

Adventure was her only companion now, and her body ached for it the way it used to ache for dancing. If she could feel the wind against her face, the sand between her toes, water dancing on her skin, only then did the memories of that night seem to fade away. Adventure was to be her lover.

Love for Emma Gates would never happen. Love was saved for pure girls. Girls with little to no scandal.

“Just a short one then,” the duke answered gruffly.

“A short?” she asked confused. Apparently they had been in active conversation the whole time. Emma cursed her tendency to woolgather.

Tempest grinned. “A ride. That is if the offer still stands. I find myself curious as to your riding abilities, Miss Gates.”

Licking her lips, she bit back a smile. “I daresay they more than trump your own.”

He shrugged as if conveying a message of humility. “I gather we shall see about that. Meet me at the front in an hour. It should give you adequate time to change into a habit while I ready the horses.”

She exited the room only to hear him call after her.

“Shouldn’t you ask Sara to accompany us?”