Ice Cold Duke (Frigid Dukes #2)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

“ Y ou 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 the ton come to my townhouse for tea in order 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.

“I am a duke,” he said at last. “An unmarried duke with a large estate, all his teeth, a not indecent head of hair. Of course there were many ladies who were vying for my hand.”

“I suppose I should feel lucky, then,” she said primly, “that I was the one that finally won your heart.”

He rolled his eyes, and she laughed wickedly. After a moment, however, she asked, in a more serious voice, “Did these ladies know that you had no intention of marrying?”

“Of course not. It’s not something that one discusses with young ladies.”

“No, I suppose not.” She bit her lip. “Does anyone know?”

Lucien felt his mouth go dry. He wasn’t sure how his wife always managed to disarm him so much. “My close friend, Dorian, the Duke of Nottington, knows,” he said at last. “He was undoubtedly very surprised when he read about our wedding in the papers.”

Emery frowned at him. “You mean you haven’t told him? Your closest friend and you didn’t write him that we were married or even explain the circumstances?”

Lucien felt his neck and face growing hot. “Gentlemen are different from young ladies,” he said. “We do not share things with one another to the same extent.”

“But if you don’t share your feelings with your friend, with whom do you share them? Because I know it isn’t with your sisters or brother.”

“I--” Lucien wasn’t sure what to say. It had never occurred to him before that he should share his feelings.

She seemed to anticipate him, because she sighed and said, “I don’t think it would be such an improper thing if you should share your feelings with those closest to you. I know that your siblings would feel honored to learn more about your emotions. It might help them to feel closer to you.”

“But then how would I remain an authority figure?” he shot back. “If I had divulged my feelings to them, they would not feel that they had to listen to me anymore, and I am, at the end of the day, the patriarch of this family.”

She thought about this for a moment, then she said, a little sadly, “Perhaps they would listen to you better, if they understood you and why you do the things you do.”

There was so much wisdom in this that Lucien wasn’t comfortable with it. My wife is far too clever for her own good.

“Just pour the tea,” he said sourly, waving his hand at the tea tray. “We’re here for your edification, remember? Not mine.”

“Why not both?” she said, with another wicked grin. But she did as he asked, and carefully reached out and took hold of the pot of tea, lifting it up. “It’s very heavy,” she grumbled.

“Just pour it without splashing too much, and it will be alright.”

She brought the pot above the nearest cup and began to pour. The angle wasn’t perfect, and some of it did splash out over the tray, but all in all, it wasn’t a terrible job.

“Not as good as Leah’s,” he remarked. “But not bad.”

“Good enough to be considered worthy of being your bride?”

“I guess we will just have to leave that to the ladies of the ton to decide,” he said with a sigh. “I just do not understand why your parents didn’t teach you all of these things. Even if you were to be married to my brother, a young lady really ought to know all the intricacies of entertaining and distinguishing herself in Society. After all, you were going to be the sister-in-law of a duke! It’s not as if you wouldn’t be required to comport yourself with a certain level of decorum.”

“My parents didn’t care how I comported myself after I was married,” Emery said, and a flicker of anger passed over her face. It was brief, but he saw it, and it made him pause. Slowly, he sat down across from her.

“Why wouldn’t they care?”

She shrugged. “I suppose they thought I’d be someone else’s problem by then.”

Lucien frowned as he felt his own flicker of anger. Neglectful parents had that effect on him. “They really didn’t prepare you at all,” he said slowly. “Which was actually quite foolish of them. What if the engagement had come to an end, for one reason or another? Then they would have been stuck with--”

“An unaccomplished lout?” she asked, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Lucien paused. “I didn’t mean that. You are not unaccomplished or a lout. I simply meant that it was your parents’ job to prepare you for Society in case of any eventuality. They failed in their duty to you.”

For a moment, a look of gratification passed across her face. Then she shrugged, as if afraid of showing too much vulnerability in front of him, replacing the look with one of bored resignation. “Well now it is your responsibility, I suppose,” she said drolly. “And I apologize for that. Although I have found these lessons more fun than I originally could have hoped.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You really are obsessed with having fun. I haven’t managed to train that out of you.”

“No, in fact, I think it’s worked the opposite way.”

Her teasing smile was back, and he felt his stomach jolt slightly. “Why? Because I participated in the board game?”

“That was unusual for you,” she said. “And I know that it meant a lot to the girls.”

“Really?” Lucien tried to keep the interest from his voice, as if he didn’t really care whether or not it meant something to his sisters. But inside, his heart was hammering.

“Yes,” Emery said, “I could tell. They couldn’t stop smiling afterward, and Eve mentioned to me that it was the first time you’d just spent time with the family like that in a long time.”

Lucien’s heart tightened, and it took him a moment to be able to answer. “Well, I wanted to make sure there was no bad blood between Henry and myself. Seeing as how it was his little going-away party.”

Emery smiled, and he could tell from the glint in her eye that she knew this wasn’t the only reason he’d played the board game with them. For some reason, it warmed his heart to know that she could see through him like that; that she alone could tell there was more to his actions.

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you were there,” she said, and she looked up at him, blinking, her eyes wide and tender. And to his utter shock, she reached across the tea table and covered his hand with hers. Her hands were ungloved, and her skin was surprisingly warm and soft. At the same time, their eyes met, and they gazed at each other for what felt like a whole minute.

He wanted to say something to her, but what? Thank you for being patient with me over these past few weeks? You’re not who I thought you were, either. Perhaps we might start over and try to be friends?

But before he could, the sound of the ballroom door opening disrupted them, and Lucien started and pulled his hands away from Emery’s. She blinked several times, as if rousing herself from a daze, and then turned toward the door. He did as well, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks, although he wasn’t certain why.

I’m just teaching my wife to pour tea!

Why, then, did he feel as if he had been caught in the act of doing something he shouldn’t?

Leah poked her head around the doorway. “There you two are,” she said, coming into the room and leaving the door open behind her. “Celeste said you would be working on tea etiquette.”

“Yes,” Lucien said at once. “I was just teaching Emery how to entertain.”

He was speaking more loudly and harshly than was strictly necessary, and Leah frowned.

“Right…” She shuffled forward, her hands twisting in front of her, and looked down at the ground. “Actually, Lucien, I was wondering if you and I might be able to have a moment alone to talk?”

“Of course,” he said, standing up. “We can go to my study.”

“There’s no need,” Emery said, standing as well. “I’ll go. Thank you for the lesson, Duke.” She curtsied to him, then headed for the door, although not before Lucien noticed her share a meaningful glance with his sister, as if giving her silent encouragement for whatever she was about to say.

Slowly, Lucien lowered himself onto the sofa and gestured for Leah to sit across from him. She looked nervous and jumpy as she sat down, and she kept glancing around, as if trying to find an escape route.

“What is it?” he asked, a touch warily himself. If Emery has put her up to this then there’s no saying what she might be about to say.

“I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming Season,” Leah said hesitantly. “There are one or two things that I am worried about.”

She sounded so scared and unsure that Lucien felt his heart go out to her, and he sat forward, peering at her intently. “What are you worried about?” he asked gently.

“Well…” She bit her lip. “I suppose there are the normal things, like what if I don’t remember all the dances correctly and make a fool of myself on the dancefloor? Or what if I accidentally use the wrong mode of address when speaking to someone who outranks me? Or what if I forget the right way to make conversation at a dinner party?”

“Oh, Leah…” Lucien shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about in any of those regards. You know your etiquette better than anyone. If there was one young lady I wouldn’t be worried about, it would be you.”

“Yes, but, what if I forget? I don't want to make a fool of myself and be shunned by the ton .”

“You will not be shunned by the ton over a simple mistake,” he said gently. “Yes, the ton can be a bit vicious, but they can also be forgiving of a girl in her first Season. And never forget: you are the daughter of a duke and the sister to another. You outrank most people. They should be nervous to speak to you, not the other way around.”

She smiled at last, and the smile warmed his heart considerably. However, the moment he smiled back at her, she looked miserable again. “The truth is,” she began, “it’s not just little things like etiquette that I’m worried about. There is so much at stake, and I don’t know how I am going to measure up. What if… what if no one wants to court me? Men may not find me pleasing, or perhaps the other young ladies won’t like me and start a rumor about me. Or what if, worst of all, I am courted by someone who appears to be wonderful, only for him to turn out to be a villain all along, and I get trapped in a marriage with someone who mistreats me?”

His sister’s eyes filled with tears, and Lucien felt as if his heart were breaking. He hated to think that Leah was feeling so much anxiety over what should have been an exciting prospect--her first London Season and marriage to a fine gentleman. Worst of all, he was afraid it was his fault.

Reaching out, he took her hands, and looked deeply into her eyes. “I will not let that happen, Leah,” he said firmly. “That is why Henry, Emery, and I are all coming with you. We will look into any man that courts you and make sure that only the best are given access to you. And if anyone were to mistreat you after marriage--well, let’s just say that he doesn’t want to have to answer to me.”

Leah laughed, a little hiccup, and wiped away the tears from her cheeks. “Do the gentlemen of the ton know that they should fear you?” she asked.

Lucien smiled and leaned back, releasing her hands. “I cannot disclose that to you, sister, but let us just say that I am known for my exacting loyalty to my family. Speaking of which…” he frowned at her. “I’m sorry if I have put too much pressure on you to be successful this Season and find a husband. I want you to know that if you don’t marry this Season, we will figure it out, together, as a family. Besides, there is always next year.”

“But next year is Celeste’s turn!” Leah said, horrified.

“Well, we could delay her debut a year if we had to,” Lucien said hesitantly. “But we will figure that out later. Right now, I just want you to focus on this year and on trying to--” and he couldn’t believe he was about to say this “--enjoy yourself. This should be an exciting time. Yes, the marriage mart can be difficult, but you have every reason to hope for the best. You are beautiful, wealthy, kind, smart, and accomplished. Not to mention the sister of the Duke of Dredford.”

Leah smiled at him again. The tears in her eyes were gone, and she looked genuinely relieved as she stood up. “Thank you, Lucien,” she said, and then she surprised him by leaning awkwardly over the table and hugging him around the shoulders. Lucien was so taken aback by the movement that for a moment, he didn’t know what to do. In all his life, he could not remember Leah ever hugging him. Eve used to, when she was very young, and hadn’t yet realized that he was the tyrant of the house. But not Leah. Then his reflexes kicked in, and he hugged her back. For a moment they stayed like that, then they broke apart, Leah smiling at him shyly.

“How long have you felt this?” he asked her, as she smoothed out her skirts.

“Some time now,” she said. “But I never voiced any of these concerns until…”

She didn’t finish the sentence but he knew what she was going to say: until Emery arrived. He nodded, understanding. It must have been Emery who had encouraged Leah to speak to him about this, and he felt a sudden and intense rush of gratitude for his wife.

In just a few weeks, my wife has brought me closer not only to my brother, but also to my sister.

He remembered her words, then, from the board game: “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 hadn’t asked her what the thing was she cared about most deeply, the thing that she worked hardest at. But now that he thought about it, it was obvious: like him, she cared most about taking care of her family. It manifested differently for her. She wasn’t protective and rigid, but concerned with bringing everyone together to enjoy one another’s company. And while it sometimes made him uncomfortable--and could be improper on occasion--he had to admit that in the case of getting Leah to open up to him about her fears, Emery’s methods were impressive.

Leah bid goodbye to him, thanking him profusely for his encouraging words, and then left the parlor, leaving Lucien with a new, glowing respect for his wife and her ability to protect her family.