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Oliver gulped, nearly choking on his food, as he stared back at the butler. “Miss Lockhart is here to see me?” he repeated back in disbelief.
“Yes,” Pratt confirmed.
Baldwin leaned closer to him and whispered, “Are you going to meet with her or not?”
“I’m not sure,” Oliver replied honestly. “It is entirely inappropriate for an engaged woman to call upon a gentleman.”
“Are you going to send her away?” Baldwin asked.
Oliver pushed back his chair and rose. “No, I would never be so cold and heartless as to disrespect Emmeline so horrendously.” He directed his next comment towards Pratt. “Will you show her to the drawing room?”
Pratt tipped his head and went to do his bidding.
“Why do you suppose she is here?” Corbyn questioned.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Oliver placed his napkin onto his plate. “I am not sure, but I must admit that I am rather curious.”
He exited the dining room and headed across the entry hall towards the drawing room. As he stepped into the room, he saw Emmeline was standing next to the window, looking out over the gardens. To say that she was a beautiful young woman would be an understatement, especially with her high cheekbones, creamy white skin, and delicate features. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a simple chignon, drawing attention to her wide, expressive blue eyes.
“Good morning, Miss Lockhart,” he greeted.
Emmeline gave him a curious look as she stepped away from the window. “Why are you addressing me so formally?”
“Well, you are engaged to be married.”
A look of disapproval came to her lovely features. “Yes, I have come to speak to you about that.”
“Is that so?” He took a step towards her.
Emmeline opened her mouth and then promptly closed it. She took a deep breath before saying, “I believe I may have been too hasty in turning down your offer of marriage.”
Oliver considered her for a moment. “Well, I believe it was for the best,” he said.
“Oh,” she murmured.
He took another step towards her and stopped, leaving more than enough distance to be considered proper. “Don’t you agree?”
Oliver watched as a blush crept up onto her cheeks, and he found it oddly adorable.
Emmeline smoothed down her dark blue riding habit as she lowered her gaze towards the carpet. “I… umm… don’t.”
“Pardon?”
Bringing her gaze back up, she said, “If you are still offering, I would like to accept.”
He lifted his brow at that bold declaration. “May I ask what changed your mind?”
“I think I would much prefer being married to you than the Duke of Billingham,” she said, her voice growing more confident with each word.
“Why is that?”
Emmeline squared her shoulders. “We are friends and I think we would suit much more admirably.”
“Even though I am a rake?”
Her gaze flickered to the ground. “I understand that men have urges—” she began.
Speaking over her, he asked in an amused tone, “And how would you know that?”
