Christmas with the Duchess by Tamara Lejeune Read Free Book Online Page A

again?”
    “No, ma’am,” he answered. “Well, that is to say, I did become lost, but not until after breakfast.”
    “You must have eaten very quickly,” Emma remarked. “You must have eaten like a hungry wolf.”
    He blushed. “In the navy, ma’am, we are obliged to eat our meals in a hurry.”
    “I heard you were in the navy,” said Emma. “You must tell me all about it some time.”
    “Emma,” Otto interrupted, catching his sister’s arm. “What are you doing?”
    He spoke in German, under his breath.
    Emma smiled widely at Nicholas. “Otto, it’s very rude to speak German in front of Lord Camford,” she said. “Er…you don’t speak German, do you, my lord?”
    “No, ma’am. If you would like to be alone with this gentleman,” Nicholas added, “I will gladly…gladly go.”
    Emma laughed. “Oh, this is just my brother,” she told him, elbowing Otto away from her. “We can practice our German any time. Otto, this is Hugh’s nephew.”
    “I know,” Otto said dryly. “We have been talking.”
    “Oh. Then you won’t mind presenting him to me.”
    “I beg your pardon,” Otto said, with a touch of exasperation. “I thought you knew one another already.”
    “We met briefly,” Emma explained, “but we were not properly introduced. You may do so now, brother.”
    “Nothing could possibly give me greater pleasure,” Otto said irritably. “May I present the Earl of Camford? My lord, this is my sister, Emma. Emma Grey.”
    “Emma Fitzroy, ” Emma corrected him instantly. “And that is no introduction!”
    “You are only a Fitzroy by marriage,” Otto argued. “You were born a Grey, and you’ll always be a Grey to me. Oh, dear! Look how sad Camford is to hear of your marriage, Emma! Don’t look so woebegone, sir. My sister is a widow, you know.”
    Again, Nicholas could not help his obvious change of expression.
    “Well, that’s cheered him right up,” Otto dryly observed. “And what’s more, my good fellow, her year of mourning is nearly over. In just a few days, she will throw off her widow’s weeds entirely and emerge like the butterfly from the chrysalis. She has already, as you can see, lightened her mourning considerably.”
    Emma’s gown was of smoke-blue muslin, cut in the latest style by the finest modiste in Paris. A huge cornflower-blue sapphire on a thin ribbon of black velvet hung at her throat. She often touched the cold stone, particularly when she was nervous.
    “I think your husband was a very lucky man, ma’am,” Nicholas said solemnly.
    “Not a very nice thing to say to a widow,” Otto chided him. “It implies the lady’s husband is better off dead! Though I’m sure Camford didn’t mean it that way.”
    Nicholas was horrified. “Indeed, ma’am, I did not!”
    “My lord, pay no attention to my brother,” Emma said quickly. “I never do. Lord Scarlingford believes himself to be amusing, and nothing can persuade him that he is wrong. No doubt, you are as eager to get away from him as I. I have come to take you on a tour of the house. We can escape him together, if you like. If you have finished your billiards game, that is,” she added, as Nicholas seemed to hesitate.
    “Oh, I was not playing, ma’am,” he assured her. “I should be glad to see the house. But I would not wish to inconvenience you. My uncle already has offered to show me around.”
    Emma forced a smile. “I’ve just spoken to your uncle, my lord. He has been detained by—by—” She stopped, frowning in concentration. Lord Hugh did nothing but eat and drink and play cards, so it was difficult to imagine what might be detaining him. “Oh, by something or other,” she said hurriedly. “Business of some sort,” she went on, improvising rapidly. “Something to do with the estate, no doubt. And, of course, your aunt and your cousins are still exhausted from the journey. They are sleeping in this morning. Uncle Hugh asked me to look after you, and, of course, I said I