Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

G eorge lit his cigar in the library and took a long puff. His mind was racing from the events of the afternoon. If he thought he'd imagined Baroness Dewsbury's initial disapproval of her daughter, he was certain that he hadn't mistaken the second one upon their return. Something was definitely going on in that family. With Emma. And for some reason, he felt the need to unravel whatever it was.

He'd had to admit to himself that Emma was pleasant company. And the more time he spent with her, the more he curiously enjoyed it. And wanted more. A voice in his head warned him at this thought. And he moved to serve a drink in an attempt to distract himself and hopefully change the course of his thoughts away from Emma Lovell.

"Need a drinking mate?" Olivia suddenly popped her head into the room.

"That depends," George returned with a smile.

"I do not take conditions," Olivia strode into the room and plucked a tumbler off the display.

"Do not tell Alex. I cannot stand his lectures," she gave a conspiratorial wink as George chuckled and obliged her.

He poured her a drink. "Thank God for lenient brothers," Olivia laughed as she accepted her drink happily before sitting in the chair opposite the one he occupied.

"The trip to the village was quite refreshing," Olivia took a sip of her drink. "I am sure you had a good time. Miss Lovell is quite the pleasant company," she added with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Indeed," George found himself distracted once again by thoughts of Emma. He wondered if she'd found the trip as rejuvenating as Olivia had. Not with the way her mother watched her like a hawk with those disapproving eyes, he doubted.

A thought occurred to him just then. Perhaps Emma wasn't the problem to her mother, but her association with him . After all, he knew only too well what reputation he had in society.

"George?" Olivia's voice broke into his thoughts. She was regarding him expectantly.

"So?" She prodded when he didn't speak. And he realized that she might have asked him a question. He asked her what it was, and she repeated, "Do you intend to court Miss Lovell?"

A little laugh escaped him at this. And Olivia quirked an inquisitive brow.

"What do you think?" he returned.

She pursed her lips in thought. "I cannot tell with you, George," she said. "You may have a reputation in society, but I never met a more unpredictable person," she added.

And he couldn't help his mirth once again. "Well thought," he winked.

"Well, I personally like Miss Lovell. Her honesty and confidence are admirable. Society needs more people like her," Olivia gushed with much enthusiasm.

George could tell that she liked Emma. But there was still a bit of dust he needed to clear up where she was concerned.

"Those are admirable qualities, yes," George said. "But people aren't always as they seem, Olivia," he added.

"What do you mean?" Her good humor faltered.

"Merely that you should be careful to protect your boundaries and evaluate what company you keep," he advised.

"Oh, Alex always says you're more cynical than an old woman, George," She laughed now, clearly not taking him seriously. And he shrugged, his mind still partly on Emma and the complexities she brought into his otherwise predictable life.

Lady Amberton handed Emma the cards along with instructions on what to write. They were alone in the drawing room, the soft afternoon light casting warm hues across the plush furniture.

"Oh, the children quite loved treasure hunts growing up," Jane Amberton wore a nostalgic expression on her face as she sighed. "I used to organize these games for the children even back then, you know. And George always loved to pretend he was a knight on a mysterious quest whenever they played. Olivia was always his little princess," she continued. Her voice carried such fondness; it was palpable and made the room feel smaller, more intimate.

"The Duke must be quite close to the family," Emma observed as she organized the cards before her according to their colors.

"Why, George is like their older brother. The accident which claimed the former Duke and Duchess's lives was most tragic. But we gained an additional family member," Jane said fondly. "He'd been so young. Too young to be orphaned," she added with a rueful sigh.

"Fate can be cruel," Emma remarked, her voice soft, reflecting the somber mood Jane's memories had evoked.

"Most certainly," the woman agreed, nodding slowly as if weighing the truth of their words against her own experiences.

"I suppose the Duke spends more time here than at his own estate?" Emma tried not to appear too obvious in her curiosity, but her interest in George's life was genuine.

"Oh, that boy is as busy as a bee, I tell you. He is always traveling back and forth. Managing his own affairs, and helping Alexander run estate and business matters here too," Lady Amberton responded. She spoke with such maternal pride about George; it was clear he held a special place in her heart.

"They have quite the rare friendship," Emma observed, thinking of her own dear friends and the different but equally strong bond they shared.

"It is the most precious brotherhood," Lady Amberton affirmed. "My late brother and sister-in-law adored him just as much too," she added.

In a way, Emma envied the Duke. She may have Frances and Agnes, but she'd always wished she'd had a sibling growing up—someone to share the most intimate moments with. The Duke had been an only child too. And albeit tragic his circumstances, fate had compensated him somehow by giving him Alexander and Olivia, and the most adoring family too.

"Why, you seem more interested in George than Alexander, dear," Lady Amberton cut into her thoughts suddenly.

Emma sputtered, caught utterly off guard by her insinuation. She felt her cheeks warm as she shook her head and said, "Oh, it is nothing but idle curiosity, Lady Amberton."

"Idle curiosity which has you blushing like a debutante now, eh?" Lady Amberton teased, her tone light but pointed, causing Emma to flush even deeper.

Emma tried to convince her otherwise, but Lady Amberton remained skeptical, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I tell you what, Emma," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper even though they were alone in the drawing room. "Even if you want Seymore as your suitor, your secret is safe with me," she added, clearly enjoying the possibility of a little romantic intrigue under her roof.

"Oh, I do not have such interests," Emma protested, feeling her cheeks grow warmer still under the scrutinizing gaze of her host.

"If you say so," Lady Amberton winked, her skepticism couldn't be more apparent. Emma opened her mouth to make another attempt at convincing her, but just then, the housekeeper appeared and sought Lady Amberton's attention. Emma was left alone, her thoughts swirling.

As she took another card to write on, she suddenly spied her name on one of the cards Lady Amberton had been working on. Emma succumbed to her curiosity and went through the cards, her heart skipping a beat when she saw that she had been paired with Seymore. And she didn't think it a coincidence. No doubts Lady Amberton was trying to match her with the Duke now.

She quickly shuffled the cards and switched them, pairing herself with Firman instead. Besides, she didn't think she could countenance an entire hunt in the company of the infuriating Duke. As her partner no less.

No sooner had she returned to her cushion than Lady Amberton reappeared. "Oh, we must hurry and finish these," the woman sounded breathless. And as Emma watched her shuffle through the cards, guilt suddenly came over her. What had she been thinking? She found herself wishing Lady Amberton would get called out again so she could return the names as they'd been.

Alas, they finished working on the cards without the opportunity to right her wrong. Lady Amberton called a footman and gave him the cards with instructions to have them delivered to the guests. She turned to Emma and handed her hers somewhat abstractedly as she went through the few cards that were left on the table, her mind clearly elsewhere. Emma held the card in her hand, her stomach twisting with the weight of her impulsive decision.

"The afternoon looks promising already," Jane anticipated.

Emma felt too guilty to look forward to anything. If only she could change the cards again.

The treasure hunt was set on the expansive grounds of the manor. Emma saw the Earl approaching and braced herself, only for him to nod and smile cordially at her before walking past. Confused, she swiveled and saw a young lady from the guests placing her hand on his arm before he led her away. They appeared to have been paired.

"You look as if you just lost a good sum in a horrid wager, Miss Lovell," a voice came from beside her. Emma wanted to groan out loud. She raised her gaze to see Seymore, whose expression was filled with a sense of satisfaction.

"What did you do?" She cut straight to the point.

"The footman gave me my card and Firman's. I saw the names, and switched them," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Emma supposed she ought to be glad. She'd wanted to right things after all. But this only infuriated her more. "Besides, I think you will enjoy my company more than Firman's," he grinned, clearly pleased with his meddling.

"How dare you?"

"How dare I not?" He tossed back, his tone playful yet challenging.

"You are insufferable," she accused, her frustration mounting.

"And yet here you are," he pointed out, a sly smile on his lips.

"Because you switched the cards," she returned sharply. "And don't you dare tell me that you're giving me a choice right now. Because this is holding me hostage," she added, her words fierce.

"Hostage?" he echoed, amusement evident in his voice.

"Quite so," she jutted her chin out in defiance.

"I suppose Firman would be willing to pay a fine sum in exchange for you," he laughed, his humor not quite reaching her.

"How is that for a deal?" He added as she began to walk away. Their first clue was to look around the hedges, presumably for their second clue…

"Not nearly fair," she complained.

"Allow me," he stopped her when she crouched by the hedges to look around.

"I didn't realize you had a chivalrous bone in you, Your Grace," she couldn't help but tease, a slight smirk touching her lips. "Look at you, all ready to do the dirty work," she added.

"Is that how you show your gratitude?" He straightened, bearing a small card now.

"What's it say?" she asked, her curiosity piqued despite herself.

"That'll cost Firman extra if I tell you." He held the card out of her reach when she tried to snatch it away.

"How is that fair?" she cried. "We were paired to be a team!" She added, her tone a mix of exasperation and challenge.

"Were we?" He quirked a sly brow.

"Well, you switched the cards to team up with me. So we should work together," she corrected, trying not to dwell on the fact that he was her original partner, and that she had been the one to make the initial switch.

"Well, you said it yourself just now, did you not, Emma?" He whisked the card away when she tried to reach for it again. "That I don't play fair games," he added, his voice low and teasing.

"It is no excuse to allow your lack of manners to rear its head at a time like this," she returned sharply. And he chuckled, clearly enjoying their banter far more than she deemed appropriate.

"Now is precisely the time when I must act," he said, a gleam of determination in his eyes. "I am not a man to let a good opportunity pass me by," he added, his tone suggesting a challenge he relished.

As intolerable as he was, she found herself enjoying his company nonetheless. There was something about his audacity that intrigued her.

"Come," he turned and began to walk away, his steps confident and sure.

"Where to?" She asked, skipping to keep up with his long strides despite herself.

"To the next clue," he replied, not looking back, his focus fixed on the game ahead.

Emma suddenly felt a hand yank at her shawl as she walked, halting her abruptly. She turned to the sight of her scowling mother. She looked at Seymore and saw that he was a few paces ahead of her, and didn't seem to notice her absence behind him just yet.

"You quickly find whatever means to pair yourself with the Earl before your father notices," Caroline instructed, her voice low and urgent. "Otherwise, he'll have both of our heads," she added. And despite her displeasure, Emma saw fear in her mother's eyes too.

With these words, Caroline let go of her hold on her shawl, and Emma proceeded to meet Seymore. But just then, she spied the Earl and his partner parting ways. Presumably to cover more ground, she thought.

An idea occurred to her.

"Keep up, keep up," Seymore hollered when he turned and saw her way behind him, struggling to catch up.

"Why don't we split up to cover more grounds? I think we will be faster in gathering all our clues then," Emma suggested when she finally caught up to him.

"Good idea," he agreed without arguments. Much to her surprise. But she had no complaints.

When they parted, Emma immediately headed in the direction of the Earl. "My Lord," Emma acknowledged when she reached him.

"Miss Lovell," Firman beamed. "I trust you are having a good time?" He asked. He was looking around a nearby tuft of grass for his own clues.

"Most enjoyable, My Lord," she responded pleasantly as she positioned herself a little away from him, but making sure to remain directly, and in his full view as she pretended to look around some hedges.

She allowed a minute to pass before she let out a cry, and slumped onto the grass around, pretending to twist her ankle. She closed her eyes and clutched at the said body part in ostensible pain.

"Oh, Miss Lovell, are you all right?" the Earl's voice held a tone of alarm in it as he quickly left his position.

Soon after, Emma felt strong arms circle around her, scooping her up from the ground. But something did not feel right as she was held. Or rather, something did not smell right. The scent which suffused her senses was overly familiar.

She opened her eyes. Seymore was carrying her.