“The pleasure is all mine. I do hope this visit finds you well,” said the duke.
If Emma had stared open-mouthed at Lord Norwich, then she gaped at the duke. Surely there was some mistake. The duke standing in front of her did not match any of the pictures she had envisioned. This would not do. Where was the old, wrinkled man? The duke who had visited her dreams? She did not want this way-too-dashing young gentleman to be her guardian. Emma needed a father figure. Not a gentleman who would plague her innocent dreams at night, causing her to have unladylike thoughts.
This duke seemed way too tall, possessing wide shoulders, narrow hips, and long, muscled legs. It was hard to tell where his black pantaloons ended and his polished Hessians began. His long, wheat-colored hair was pulled back in a queue. His face could have been chiseled by some sculptor during ancient times. The duke’s features were perfect in every way. And his eyes—her pulse leaped when they looked directly at her. Emma had never seen such dark, cobalt-blue eyes. No mere mortal man could be this beautiful to look at and have a good heart as well. So, on the spot, to guard her from romanticizing him further, she decided his angelic perfect looks hid the devil inside.
“I am well, Your Grace. And may I add,” Emma smiled at him, hoping he would believe her motives genuine, “welcome to Boston.”
“Thank you. I look forward to exploring the area during the next few days.” The duke glanced at his friend, standing at his side. “It would be an honor if you would consider accompanying Lord Norwich and me on an outing while we are here.”
Could he be serious? Emma could not go out with two young gentlemen without a proper chaperone. Her hesitation was noticed and the silence broken.
“As your guardian, I would like to become further acquainted with you so I may make arrangements for your comfort when we arrive in England. Do you have a lady’s maid that can accompany us? If not, I am quite convinced Miss Beauregard can supply us with a suitable chaperone.” The duke gave her a warm smile.
The transformation that came with the smile astounded her. Frissons of tingles traveled up her arms, causing goose bumps to break out. Emma had thought him perfect before, but when he smiled his face warmed, causing little lines to crinkle at the corners of his eyes and two dimples to appear in the middle of his cheeks. She attributed her sudden fixation on the handsome duke to the fact she’d led a sheltered life where, according to society’s dictates, males were not involved.
She had much to learn about the gentlemen of the world, she decided, if she planned to be on her own one day. Not that she really and truly wanted to live alone. She just didn’t believe anything else existed out there in the vast world for her. She wondered if all young ladies thought like that when facing an unplanned and traumatic change to their normal lives.
Emma pushed her wandering thoughts aside and listened to the duke’s deep voice resonate throughout the small room. “Also, my two dear sisters, my mother, and my brother are anxious to receive word of you.”
She lowered her head. “It would be an honor to accompany Your Grace and Lord Norwich on an outing.”
“Splendid. We shall call on you tomorrow at ten.” His Grace bowed. “I beg your leave.”
Emma curtsied with all the elegance and grace she could muster, regardless of the fluttering inside her stomach. “Until tomorrow, Your Grace.”
***
“Well,” Myles announced as they descended the front steps, “I think that went well, all things considered.” He stole a glance at Thomas. “Don’t you?”
Well? Had his friend taken leave of his wits? Miss Emma Hamilton was not the sort of ward Thomas needed in his life right now. Thomas already had two beautiful sisters to guard and protect from fortune hunters and unsavory rogues, until he could marry them off––God willing, without a hint of scandal. Now he had Miss Hamilton. His heart jumped when he thought of her tall, slender, and graceful figure. The plain black mourning dress had done little to hide the young lady’s attributes. As willowy as she appeared, she possessed womanly curves in all the right places. Places men like him dreamed about caressing. Never mind that she looked like an angel from the neck up.
And Miss Hamilton was more than attractive. Warm heat surged inside Thomas’s body as he pictured her oval face, high cheekbones, generous pink lips, and small pert nose, all accentuated by milk-white, flawless skin. Her eyes were a soft pale blue, and her strawberry-blond hair, carelessly pulled back with a ribbon, had done little to tame the wild tresses clinging to her face and shoulders. The feature he noticed most about her, and he’d had trouble not staring at during their brief meeting, was the dimple in the center of her stubborn chin. And call it gentleman’s intuition, but he knew her stubbornness would be difficult to curb. Hadn’t her letter to him hinted at determination and stubbornness? He should not find himself surprised by this attribute.