“She actually made a list of husband-to-be qualities. I found it tucked inside a book in the library. You would not believe the long list of qualifications Marissa expects. There is not a gentleman alive who could possibly live up to them.” Thomas smiled in amusement. “It will be my undue pleasure watching all the gentlemen chase after her only to be sent packing with their pride stuffed up their arses.
“All right then, Marissa is wrong for Amesbury. Maybe he would be interested in my sister Amelia. She is of marriageable age now. I’m not looking forward to every single man in all of England sniffing around her skirts. I hate thinking about having to entertain all those suitors who will surely have the audacity to call upon her at my residence. Most are not worthy of an introduction, never mind the privilege of courting Amelia.” Myles burst out laughing. “We might never marry off our sisters and wards if we don’t lower our expectations.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Emma ran her hands down her black dress to smooth out the creases. Her hair was tied back with a matching silk ribbon, leaving her wavy strawberry-blond tresses cascading down her back. She’d been curled up in a chair in the library reading when she received her summons from the headmistress to come to the receiving room posthaste.
And with haste was how she arrived. Emma ran most of the way, but, right before anyone in the receiving room could get a glimpse of her, she halted. Her lungs dragged in much-needed air, and she tried to slow the heart pounding wildly inside her rib cage. That was not so much from physical exertion but rather because she was nervous to meet her visitor. She knew this unnamed visitor could be none other than the duke.
Miss Beauregard had received a missive just that morning clarifying the duke’s arrival in Boston. And Emma had planned several proper receiving speeches in her head, because according to Miss Beauregard, Emma often spoke without thinking. Something proper ladies did not do.
Papa had not seen anything wrong with her voicing her opinions.
Suddenly her body trembled, and she could not remember any of her practiced speeches. Would the duke find fault with her running or any other less-than-ladylike behavior? She huffed. Would she ever be free again to live life as she pleased?
Would the duke take her back to England now, or would she get to finish out her final year here? She needed the year because how could she just up and leave Amy to the spoiled, mean girls attending here? Penelope, Emma’s friend, could only do so much to protect Amy. Amy still needed Emma.
During Emma’s final year, she planned to right all the evil done to Amy. Help Amy build up her self-esteem and boost her confidence and help her learn to stick up for herself. Even if she traveled to England, Emma planned to come back for Amy as soon as she could. Amy was like her little sister. They needed each other.
“There you are, child.” Miss Beauregard’s annoying voice traveled out into the foyer. “Stop fidgeting and come forward to meet His Grace.”
Stop fidgeting. Would the woman ever stop insulting her at every opportunity? Emma swallowed her anger and lowered her head in feigned obedience.
“Yes, Headmistress.” With that being mumbled, she passed through the open double doors and lifted her face in expectation.
Her jaw dropped. Thank God she had the good sense to close it quickly.
The well turned out man standing in front of her with a devilish grin plastered on his face and sparkling emerald-green eyes was not repulsive, wrinkled, or old. For some odd reason her pulse sped up as she demurely eyed his slightly long auburn hair hitting his jacket collar. And then he bowed a perfect flourish of gentlemanly charm.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Hamilton. I am Lord Norwich, and the gentleman across the room is His Grace, the Duke of Wentworth.”
Every speck of air left her lungs. Of course this gentleman was not the duke. He was . . . he was . . . handsome and young. Emma swallowed past the lump in her throat, afraid to look in the direction of the other gentleman in the room. The one she had not even known was present.
“Please forgive my manners.” Miss Beauregard came forward, her voice pitched slightly higher than the norm. “Your Grace, may I present Miss Hamilton, your ward?”
Then the headmistress added, “Emma, this is your guardian, the Duke of Wentworth.”
The scalding hot vibration started in Emma’s toes and spread until it encompassed her brain. She nearly stumbled forward during her curtsy. “It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”
He bowed at the waist, never taking his sparkling blue eyes from hers, and if Emma wasn’t mistaken, he found some amusement with her situation.