See? I understood the rules,this wink seemed to say, and she found it hard not to laugh.
Slowly, as they finished the first round and went into the second, Emery could feel her husband loosening up beside her. He sat less stiffly, and even relaxed his shoulders a bit and smiled while the rest of them howled with laughter after Henry made a valiant attempt to win the second round and lost spectacularly.
He’s not used to playing games like this.And she wondered suddenly what it must have been like for him, the eldest with irresponsible, absent parents, always having to take care of his big family and set the rules, instead of getting to take part in the games.He must have always had to be the bad guy. I can imagine that must have been very lonely.
“For someone who doesn’t play a lot of games, you certainly are doing well,” she said to him after a while, speaking lowly so as not to disturb everyone else, who were chattering loudly amongst themselves.
The Duke glanced at her, his eyes round with surprise to hear her speaking to him.
“I don’t know if I’m doing well,” he said doubtfully, looking down at the pieces in front of him. “Am I?”
“You are,” she said, smiling slightly. “Celeste is in the lead, and then Henry, but then you’re third.”
“Incredible that Henry is in second place after he lost so badly in the last round,” the Duke said, shaking his head. “But then, he has always had good luck with this kind of thing.”
“Games?” she asked curiously, and he shrugged.
“Just everything,” he said. “Life has always come easily to him. He gets along with others well, always knows the right thing to say, rides and fences spectacularly without ever practicing. He’s just one of those men blessed with endless talents.”
“Hmm.” Emery had never thought about it this way. Yes, Henry did have a natural ease in most situations, but she had always found him a little lazy and a little arrogant--not terrible qualities, of course, but not ones that would have made her fall in love with him, like everyone might have wished she had. “Well, I think it’s okay to not be naturally talented at everything,” she said. “It’s more important to me to work hard at the things you care deeply about. Like for you, that would be taking care of your family.”
He blinked in surprise. “I’m surprised to hear you say that. Most of the time you seem to think me overprotective.”
“You are,” she said, and to her shock, he actually laughed. This was the first time she had ever heard him laugh--really laugh, not just icily sneer at her--and it made her heart constrict in her chest.
She’d never seen this side of him before, that was soft and vulnerable, eager to be included in the group, and she liked it much more than his ice-cold, impenetrable persona.
“But I can see also that your overprotectiveness comes from a good place,” she said after a moment. “There are worse things, really, than looking out for one’s family. I wish… Sometimes I wish I’d had someone to watch out for me in mine.”
“What do you mean?” the Duke asked, frowning. “Were the Earl and Countess not attentive parents?”
“They were too attentive,” she said with a snort. “Overprotective as well. But I don’t think it came from a place of love. I think they just wanted to spend the least amount of time and money bothering with me, so they just kept me cooped up in the house, unable to do anything. They said it was for my own good, but I don’t think it was. Regardless…” She shrugged. “I could have used an older brother to protect me from that.”
The smile he gave her then was surprisingly soft and kind. “Thank you,” he murmured, and his green eyes blazed for a moment. “That is very kind of you to say.”
Her throat suddenly felt very dry and tight, and she had to clear it several times. Nodding, she turned away, unable to look up into his eyes a moment longer. She returned her focus to the game, and was surprised, and a little gratified, when the Duke went on to win the round, as if he had been encouraged by her support.
And when he turned to her and winked, she felt like he had won it for her.
Chapter Thirteen
“You know that I don’t really need lessons on pouring tea, right?” Emery asked as Lucien set down the tea tray in front of her. “I was taught how to do this from an early age.”
“Then you won’t mind showing me,” he said, smiling ruefully down at her. “It will be easy for you.”
It did not surprise him when Emery scowled up at him.She is nervous because she knows she isn’t good at it, although she will never admit that.If there was one thing he’d learned about his wife, it was that she didn’t like admitting weakness.
“We entertained guests at Hillsborough House,” she protested. “I am not completely incompetent at every ladylike task. Pouring tea might actually be one of the simpler ones.”
“I’m not saying you are incompetent,” Lucien said, with what he believed was the patience of a saint. “I just want to make sure that when ladies of thetoncome to my townhouse for tea inorder to inspect you--because believe me, they will--that you do not embarrass yourself, and by extension, Leah.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you really so popular that ladies will be coming by to inspect me?”
“They will be curious to know what lady finally ensnared me.”
“Oh? Finally?” She smirked at him. “Were there many who were vying for your hand?”
Lucien hesitated. He didn’t like to say anything that might be construed as boastful, and yet, there was something about the way Emery teased him that made him want to defend himself.
