The Duke's Dilemma by Nadine Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

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    After handing her music to Lady Sudsley, who had volunteered to accompany the young singers, Lucinda clutched the edge of the pianoforte in abject terror. But the Earl of Chillingham, his face a mask of concern, rushed forward to stand behind Lady Sudsley and turn the sheet music whilst he gazed at Lucinda with adoring eyes—and surprisingly enough, she sang her simple little country song in a clear, sweet voice that brought enthusiastic applause from all but the disgruntled mothers of the other two singers.
    When the applause subsided, there was a brief moment of silence until the duke said, in that chilling way of his, “Your turn, I believe, Miss Haliburton.”
    “My niece does not perform,” Lady Hargrave said quickly.
    The duke scowled. “How odd. I was given to understand all well-bred young ladies performed.” He raised his quizzing glass and surveyed Emily with a look of profound distaste, as if her very presence insulted his tender sensibilities.
    Emily felt her hackles rise and ignoring her aunt’s frown, returned the duke’s haughty stare. “As a matter of fact, I do play the pianoforte…a bit,” she said between gritted teeth.
    “Any little thing will suffice,” Mr. Rankin murmured, taking her hand to lead her to the pianoforte. “It won’t do to refuse the duke, you know.”
    Settling onto the bench already warmed by Lady Sudsley’s ample posterior, Emily contemplated what she should play. She was tempted to perform an excerpt from Mr. Ludwig von Beethoven ‘s wonderful Eroica symphony. One of papa’s academic friends had brought the sheet music back from the Continent, along with a case of French brandy he’d smuggled past the excisemen. But she decided it was a bit heavy for an informal occasion. Instead, she decided on a little-known piece by Mr. Mozart, which had been one of papa’s favorites.
    As always, once she began to play, she lost herself in the music and when the last note died away and the room burst into applause, she looked up in surprise and straight into the eyes of the duke. This time, they were not cold; they fairly glowed with appreciation for Mr. Mozart’ s unique genius—but only for a brief instant. Then once again, like a lake in winter, a film of ice hid the tiny fragment of human warmth she had glimpsed in their depths.
    Mr. Rankin was not so loath to show his enthusiasm. He praised her effusively, and wonder of wonders, that notorious cynic, Mr. Brummell, did the same.
    All in all, she decided as she discarded the despised dress and prepared for bed, it had been a remarkable day.
     
    As was their habit, whenever circumstances brought the two of them together under one roof, the Duke of Montford and Edgar Rankin ended their day’s activities with a quiet brandy in the library of whichever of the duke’s houses they happened to be at the time.
    Tonight they were joined by George Brummell, which meant that Edgar, proper fellow that he was, would adhere to the rigid protocol which was commonly observed between a duke and his amanuensis.
    The duke sighed. After an evening of being “your graced” to death by the pack of ninny-hammers his aunts had inflicted on him, he was in no mood to listen to Edgar do the same. Edgar Rankin was the one man he counted as a true and trusted friend. When they were alone, they slipped into the easy camaraderie they’d formed as boys growing up together and it was “Edgar” and “Jared.” There would be none of that tonight, and he found himself regretting his spur-of-the-moment decision to invite the charming Beau to join them in their nightcap.
    On the other hand, Brummell’s presence would save him from one of Edgar’ s confounded lectures. The scurvy fellow had already managed an aside in the Grecian salon. “Doing the ducal thing up a bit brown aren’t you, your grace?” he’d whispered as he’d passed on his way to escort Miss Emily Haliburton in to dinner.
    The duke poured the brandy, handed the snifters around