Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(42)

***

That is all.

Oh, Drake. Her heart bled. How had he dealt with this alone for all these years? Why didn’t you come back to me? Why didn’t you let me be your wife, and help you heal?

But he was here before her now. And that was enough. She wanted to remind him life could be uncomplicated and peaceful.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

The muscles beneath his midnight black jacket tightened under her hands. “No, of course not. Every gentleman has bouts of madness,” he replied sardonically, an edge to his words.

“You are not mad,” she said vehemently.

“How do you know? How do you know the man you have made it a point of pursuing this Season, the man who is to be your husband, is not a madman? How can you trust I won’t hurt you?”

“You would never hurt me.”

“Never intentionally. But what if I didn’t realize what I was doing? Like….like…” The incident in the gardens.

Silence descended between them and Emmaline’s mind turned over any possible response that would bring solace, only to find there was nothing she could say. No words could chase away the demons he faced. The reality of it crippled her with a sense of hopelessness.

Emmaline would not allow him to look like this defeated man before her. This was not the time or place for him to bare his soul. “How have you been enjoying your reading?” she asked.

His brow furrowed at the unexpected shift in conversation. “I think you can gather from the note I sent that it leaves much to be desired.”

She gave a little toss of her head. “You should be warned, my lord, I am nearly through my copy. You had better devote some time to your reading if you have any hope of winning our challenge.”

“I fear I have lost already,” he said cryptically.

“Tsk, tsk.” She tapped him with the fan hanging from her wrist. “You so readily admit defeat. I thought you would have put greater effort into your readings, as it would mean I would no longer bother you for a week.”

The chords of the waltz drew to a halt, and they came to a reluctant stop on the dance floor, standing there amidst clapping couples.

Drake’s emerald gaze seared her with its intensity. “How did I ever think you a bother?”

Emmaline blinked. “My lord?”

Drake shook his head. “Uh, I said, I think I see your brother.”

Emmaline followed the direction of Drake’s stare and felt her skin smart with embarrassment. Nothing could kill a romantic moment more than the glowering figure crossing the ballroom, to intercept their movements.

“I think your brother would want to see us make a match of it,” he mumbled under his breath.

Emmaline laughed. “All Sebastian knows is that for the past three years he has had to escort me to more events than he would ever want because I’m unwed. He is therefore a tad resentful where you’re concerned,” she explained, as her brother drew to a halt before them.

Both men sketched respectful bows.

“So good to see you are finally doing the honorable thing and attending your obligations, my lord. Though a waltz is hardly tantamount to a formal declaration for my sister.” For appearances sake, Sebastian at least had the good sense to smile at Drake.

Whatever fleeting connection she’d shared with Drake vanished like a chord struck on the pianoforte.

Drake stiffened at her elbow.

She was going to kill Sebastian for calling out Drake before a crowded ballroom. It was all she could do to keep from throttling her brother there on the spot.

Sebastian took her hand from where it rested on Drake’s elbow and placed it in the crook of his arm.

Drake’s eyes narrowed at the subtle gesture of possessiveness.

Emmaline didn’t answer to anyone. She tugged her hand free.

Her betrothed raised a brow. “I would have never taken you for one to make a public scene. Yet this is the second such time you have attempted to create a scandal. How very un-duke-like of you, Your Grace. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you are attempting to sever the connection between Lady Emmaline and me.” The bite to Drake’s words were belied by the strained, albeit congenial smile he wore.

Emmaline couldn’t help the sound of skepticism that escaped her. She spoke before Sebastian could formulate a response. “That’s preposterous, Drake. Why would my brother want to dissolve the contract?”

A stony, telling silence met Emmaline’s question. Her shoulders stiffened. Mindful of where she was, she plastered a smile to her face and directed her attention to Sebastian. “Tell him that’s foolish.”

Sebastian’s fa?ade of civility slipped and his only response was a flinty-eyed glare for Drake.

Panic caused her heart to speed up. Emmaline wet her lips. He will not end this betrothal. Not now. Not when I’ve finally come to know him. A very thin grasp on reason reminded her of where they were.

“No,” she said.

Sebastian’s jaw set, he surveyed the room to verify the exchange went unnoticed. He returned his attention to Emmaline and Drake. “I’m tired of this farce between the two of you. I want a decision soon, Drake.”

“Remember where you are,” Emmaline cautioned. Oh, how the scandal sheets would love to plaster this meeting on their front pages.

Drake folded his arms over the hard-muscled wall of his chest. “My, if you don’t epitomize the role of arrogant, commanding duke.”