Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(21)

“Don’t be infantile. I know that you’ve never had a serious relationship with a man. If you aren’t a virgin, the experience happened so long ago as to be insignificant.” With an expression of disdain, he’d moved toward the door of her office. “Our discussion is over, Emma. If you aren’t intelligent enough to understand the honor I’m doing you, you certainly aren’t intelligent enough to run St. Gertrude’s, and you’ll be dismissed.”

His threat stunned her, and it was a moment before she recovered. “What difference would that make? If I do as you ask, I’ll lose my position anyway.”

The door shut, and she felt as if the familiar room were spinning around her. His threat made her heartsick. She slumped down in her chair and tried to absorb this violent, absurd disruption to her well-ordered life.

When Hugh’s sister called the next day to fix a date for the engagement announcement, Emma told her there would be no wedding.

A week passed, and she heard nothing. She was just beginning to dismiss the bizarre incident when she saw a surveying crew moving across the school grounds. Heart pounding, she rushed to question them and was informed that they were acting on the orders of the Duke of Beddington.

He answered her call so promptly she suspected he’d been waiting for it.

“Your Grace, tell me at once what’s happening. Why did you send surveyors here?”

“Didn’t I tell you? It must have slipped my mind. I’m contemplating selling the property to a developer.” He paused to let the words sink in. “He’d be tearing down the buildings to put up some very expensive homes.”

It took her only a moment to realize he was subjecting her to the most blatant sort of blackmail. The school was the only real home she’d ever had, but her emotional attachment wasn’t all of it. Over the protests of Hugh’s mother, she’d arranged to have a group of bright, ambitious scholarship students admitted. What would happen to them when they were sent back to schools far inferior to St. Gert’s? She remembered how unsteady her voice had been as she’d asked him, “And if I were to marry you, what would happen to the school?”

“Why, my dear, I could hardly sell off a place so dear to the heart of the Duchess of Beddington, now, could I?”

That was when she decided that he was more than a little mad.

She sat up for two nights before she came up with her plan. The next day she reached him at his office. “I’m sorry I was so difficult, Your Grace. It was the shock. Of course I’ll be thrilled to accept your offer . . . that is, if you haven’t reconsidered marrying someone so far beneath you.” She waited hopefully.

“Reconsidered? Of course not.”

Hardly able to conceal her distress, she’d told him that the engagement could be announced just as soon as she completed her professional obligations, which included making a trip to the States between the winter and spring terms so she could finish working on a research paper she’d begun for the New Historian.

She was telling the truth about the paper, but what she didn’t tell him was that it wouldn’t take her more than a few days to complete her research. The rest of the time she would use for something more important.

Losing her good name.

Her plan was hardly foolproof, but it was the best she could come up with. She had to alarm Beddington just enough so he’d withdraw his offer, but not enough to make him suspect that she was deliberately manipulating him. If that happened, he was vindictive enough to destroy the school for revenge.

Unfortunately, she could think of no plan that would allow her to continue her career at St. Gert’s. There was no possibility of him allowing anyone with a spotted reputation to stay on there, but she’d find a new position somewhere. St. Gert’s had taken care of her when she was most vulnerable, and now she would do the same.





Chapter 5

As Emma walked into the hotel lobby toward Kenny, she saw that the hard-eyed stranger who’d brought her to the hotel the night before had disappeared and the affable loafer had taken his place. This time, however, she wasn’t fooled.

For a moment she forgot what a scoundrel he was and simply enjoyed the sight. He’d left his Stetson behind, and his crisp dark hair gleamed in the light coming through the atrium. He wore a faded University of Texas T-shirt, tan shorts, and brown work boots with an inch of snowy white sock visible at the top. Her sanity returned as the corner of his mouth kicked up.

“Mornin’, Lady Emma. Glad to see you brought your umbrella. It’s sure to rain sometime this year.”

She glanced down at her floral brolly as if she couldn’t imagine how it had gotten there, then regarded him with a cheery smile and deliberately jabbed it toward the door. “Let’s be off, then.”

She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes narrow. “Breakfast first. Then business.”

“I’ve already eaten.”

He gazed down at her with those lazy violet eyes, then used his slow drawl to whip her into line. “Now, Lady Emma, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten whose payroll you’re on.”

She should have expected this.

“I’m going to have some blueberry pancakes this morning.” His fingers wrapped around her upper arm. “How about you?”

She considered mentioning her pleasant conversation with Francesca less than half an hour ago and the fact that she could call her good friend back at any moment, but then she hesitated. It would be wise to reserve her Francesca ammunition for bigger battles. Whether or not she ate a second breakfast this morning wasn’t that important.