Page 50 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

Charlotte hesitated. “She’s upstairs packing with her maid. She was supposed to come and inform you herself.”

“Inform me of what?” Emma asked.

“That her papa is removing her to Lady Clipstone’s school.” Charlotte looked away. “It seemed that he felt our academy was perhaps not the most favorable milieu for Yvette, considering the recent violence.”

“Violence? At the academy?”

“Well, at the wedding. The scuffle. It reminded the marquess of the Terror.”

“Being hit upon the head and beheaded are hardly events one can compare. But…” Emma’s voice trailed off. She could not defend brawling at a wedding in any terms. “We must not wallow in our own dirt,” she said briskly. “Nor shall we lower ourselves by bemoaning our fate. Come, girls! Gather around—Harriet. Yes, let us pay court to Miss Gardner. Today she is a French princesse.”

“A princess—Harriet?”

“She is ‘Votre Altesse’ to you, Miss Butterfield,” Emma said. “And if one of us were fortunate enough to be presented to a French prince, what would we do in his presence?”

“I’d faint at his bleedin’ feet,” Harriet said, flouncing to the chair that was her throne. “Better yet, I’d ’ave him kiss my feet, seeing as how I’m a princess and—” Without warning she burst from her dais and flew to the window in a manner more befitting a parlormaid than a royal princess. “He’s ’ere!”

“Your prince?” Emma inquired under her breath.

“No,” Harriet said absently. She twisted off the apron one of the girls had tied about her shoulders as a robe. “The duke’s heir. Poor feller can’t stay away. Cripes, look at his pumpkin.”

“Look at his what?” Emma asked.

“His pumpkin—cart and wheels.”

“Are you speaking of Lord Wolverton’s carriage?”

At Harriet’s distracted nod, Emma edged forth a few steps to peer over the heads of her excited students. The “pumpkin” in which the prince had made his untimely arrival was a white ducal carriage emblazed with rampant gilt lions and unicorns. The stiff-backed driver wore a black frock coat and knee breeches trimmed with gold lace.

Indeed, it was an impressive sight, but not nearly so awe-inspiring as the handsome figure in a double-breasted black coat who descended onto the sidewalk. Emma stole a look at his rugged profile and resolutely turned away, ignoring the bittersweet ache inside her.

Her attention was immediately diverted.

Anarchy in Harriet’s imaginary court had ensued. Emma clapped her hands in dismay to draw the girls away from the window. Charlotte took a more direct course of action and pulled the drapes closed on their disappointed faces.

“Spoilsport, miss!”

“It isn’t fair. What if he’s come to see Lady Lyons? What if he’s going to ask her to marry him?”

Emma frowned at this frivolous speculation, fighting not to run back to the window herself. “He is no doubt here to visit Lord Heath, not that it is our affair.”

“What if he’s in love with Lady Emma?” Miss Butterfield cried to a chorus of scandalized gasps.

Harriet jumped up onto her chair. “What if he’s going to abduct her? What if he hurls her over his shoulder and spirits her away?”

“What,” Emma said in a well-modulated voice that cut across the ballroom like a bullwhip, “if you all go to bed without dessert for a week?”

Silence followed this unpopular threat. Then Harriet cleared her throat. “We’ll ’ave order in this court right now. So shut yer gobs and—”

Adrian swept into the room, so breathtaking in his tailored black coat and snug trousers tucked into black leather boots that every pair of eyes widened to watch him.

Resisting his blatant charm, if only to make an example of herself, Emma remained in the center of the room. She was chagrined as the girls rushed to encircle him, even if she felt a similar tug of temptation. Her job was to set a proper standard of protocol, not to fling herself against that manly chest.

He disengaged himself from the girls with an embarrassed smile and made his way to Emma’s side. He appeared to be a man, like her brothers, who did not mind what sort of example he set.

“Lord Wolverton,” she said, managing to appear chagrined beneath her undeniable pleasure. “We are in the middle of lessons. May I help you? Perhaps you’re looking for my brother?”

“Yes.” Suddenly he looked intimidated by all the attention he had drawn. “I was going to invite him to attend a horse auction later today.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered taking me as a student?”