Page 29 of A Highly Unlikely Duchess
Then, somewhere behind her, a violin reached the end of a phrase, and the sound of it pulled her back like a hand onher shoulder. The ball. She was at a ball. Julia's ball, with its hundred candles and its carefully chosen guests, her parents somewhere in that very room, Theodore's friends not more than twenty feet away. One of them could turn around at any moment, see exactly how close she and Theodore were standing, exactly what his face was doing, and exactly what hers was probably doing in return.
She took a small step back. Gathered herself. It took a moment longer than she would have liked.
“Are you quite done, Your Grace?” she said.
Theodore took a step back and inhaled sharply.
The movement was sudden, a physical breaking of the spell that had held them both. He cleared his throat, the sharp, intent heat in his eyes retreating behind his usual mask of lazy indifference. He straightened his waistcoat, his fingers lingering for a second too long on the silk before he dropped his hand.
“Very well,” he said, his voice regaining its smooth, untroubled cadence. “If you will not speak, then we shall play along. For now.”
Emily watched him, her own breath finally leveling out, though the warmth of his proximity still clung to her skin like a fever. She didn't trust the ease of his tone. There was always a price with Theodore Merrick, and he didn't give his silence away for nothing.
“For now?” she repeated, her voice sounding steadier than she felt.
“For now,” he confirmed, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “If anyone asks... your father, my mother, the local gossips...we are courting. I shall be the devoted suitor, and you shall be the lady who finally tamed the untouchable Duke. It is a narrative the Ton will swallow whole.”
Emily felt a flicker of suspicion. She could see the wheels turning behind his gaze. He must have his own reasons for wanting this, a private game he was playing with Julia or perhaps with his own reputation. He was using her just as much as she was using him. There had to be a reason he was agreeing so quickly.
But she didn't push further. She couldn't afford to.
This was exactly what she needed. Even if he eventually grew bored, even if he changed his mind and decided that a marriage of convenience was too high a price for her secrets, the mere association was a shield. To be courted by a Duke who had spent Seasons avoiding every trap in London would elevate her standing beyond anything her father could threaten. It would bring her even more suitors. It would buy Frederick a future.
“I agree,” she said. “We are courting.”
Theodore bowed, a shallow, mocking gesture that didn't quite hide the predatory gleam in his eyes. “Excellent. I shall send flowers tomorrow. Something loud and expensive, so the neighbors don't have to strain their necks to see them arrive. Tryto look a little more pleased about it, Emily,” he remarked, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “A woman in love usually doesn't look like she's facing a firing squad.”
“I am pleased,” she answered with a forced smile. “It is what I wanted.”
Theodore opened his mouth to reply when Emily’s parents approached them. Emily went rigid. She felt tense all of a sudden, but before she could stammer out an introduction, Theodore shifted.
“Lord and Lady Pierce,” Theodore said. The brightest smile she had ever seen appeared on his face. He didn't wait for them to reach him; he moved toward them, closing the distance with a grace that made her father’s stiff stride look clumsy by comparison. “I must apologize for monopolizing your daughter. I found myself unable to let the music end our conversation. Lady Emily has a way of making the rest of the room feel quite... redundant.”
Emily watched, breathless, as Theodore took her mother’s hand. He didn’t just bow... he lingered. He offered the kind of lingering, deferential attention that made her mother’s cheeks flush a sudden, bright pink.
“Your Grace,” her mother fluttered, her hand resting in his as if it had found a permanent home. “We are... we are honored. We did not realize you and Emily were on such familiar terms.”
Emily watched her mother with a mounting sense of vertigo. The sight was surreal. This was the same woman who had spent the better part of last week dissecting Theodore’s scandals, labeling him a “social blight” and a warning to any girl with a scrap of reputation left to lose. Her mother’s disdain for the Duke was a matter of record; she had called him a rake who would sooner burn a house down than heat it. Yet, the moral objections had evaporated the moment his fingers touched hers. It was a dizzying transformation, a reminder that in their world, a high enough title could forgive almost any sin.
“The fault is entirely mine, My Lady,” Theodore said, casting a quick, conspiratorial glance back at Emily. It was a look of such feigned devotion that it made Emily’s skin prickle. “I am afraid I have been rather persistent. Your daughter is not easily swayed by rank alone, a quality I find as rare as it is exhausting.”
Her father, usually a man of cold, transactional silences, stepped forward, his eyes narrowed as he sized Theodore up. “A Duke’s time is rarely his own, Your Grace. I assume you didn't attend the ball merely to discuss my daughter’s stubbornness.”
Theodore laughed, the sound easy and dismissive of the crowd around them. “Hardly, Lord Pierce. I find that while I can never say no to my godmother when she insists on a ball, I rarely attend these things without an ulterior motive. In truth, I came tonight specifically to catch one of my associates regarding the recent shifts in the wool trade exports.”
He paused, his gaze steady on Emily’s father. “The bottlenecking at the East India docks has become a nuisance for my holdings,and I recall your name being mentioned as the only man in London who truly understands the mechanics of the current tariff adjustments. I’ve been looking for an opening to discuss it with someone who actually knows the terrain.”
Emily saw her father’s posture change. The suspicion didn't vanish, but it was eclipsed by a sudden, sharp interest. To be recognized by a Duke as a man of intellect and industry was a lure her father could not refuse.
“The tariffs,” her father mused, his voice losing its bark. “Most men of your standing don't look past the dividends. You’ve noticed the discrepancy in the transit duties, then?”
“It’s a glaring inefficiency,” Theodore replied. “One, I suspect you have a solution for, given your history with the shipping routes.”
As the two men moved toward the window, deep in a conversation that Theodore was navigating with terrifying intelligence, Emily stood frozen. Her mother was already whispering about tea and the best china, her eyes glowing with the triumph of a woman who had just seen a Duke fall into her drawing room like a ripe plum.
Theodore glanced back at Emily over her father’s shoulder. It was a brief, sharp look... just a second. He was winning them over. He was securing the perimeter. He was playing the part of the perfect suitor with such chilling accuracy that Emily almost forgot it was a lie.
Almost.
