Page 25 of When a Duke Desires a Lass

Her features softened with yearning as she stared at the napkin she’d placed on her lap.

“I would like to have had children.”

Resoluteness transformed her features. “However, that ship has not only sailed. It was scuttled and sank to the bottom of the sea.”

Wisdom decreed Tobias not push the subject. One that obviously made her distraught.

Look at the progress he’d made already. Emily sat in his office, pouring tea and conversing with him without flinging verbal barbs or skewering him with visual daggers.

Yes, things were coming along splendidly.

“I think we ignore that tripe.” Tobias flicked his fingers toward the clipping now lying on the table.

“Really?” She furrowed her forehead, her misgivings on full display. “You think that is wisest?”

He gave a single nod.

“I do. Anything we say in our defense will only fan the gossip—like wind to a fire. It’ll give the chinwags a reason to believe there is substance to the twaddle. If we ignore it and go on as if ignorant of the rumors, what can anyone say or do? Take the word of a toadying reporter trying to make a name for himself over our powerful circle of friends and me?”

Sugar tongs in hand, Emily chuckled, her eyes alight with merriment and not umbrage for a change. “I shall concede it’s most convenient to have several dukes in your inner circle.”

Lord, she was breathtaking when she permitted herself unfettered joy. And it only confirmed what he’d suspected from the moment he’d met her…There was much more to Emily Grenville than she allowed people to know.

“I believe you like three lumps but no milk?” she said.

“Indeed, I do.”

So, she’d noticed how Tobias took his tea. Why such a trivial thing should infuse him with satisfaction didn’t bear examining. Nonetheless, he tucked that inconsequential detail into the back of his mind.

After adding the lumps, she stirred his tea, then passed him his teacup.

“Thank you.” He took a sip before placing the cup on the table.

“I say we increase our outings and attendance.” Helping himself to a cucumber and dill tea sandwich, he gestured between them. “We—ye, Avery, and I—shall attend the same functions.”

In two bites, he’d consumed the scrumptious morsel.

“I presumed that would be the case,” Emily said, adding three almond biscuits to her plate, then tilting her mouth into an abashed smile. “I’m rather fond of almond biscuits.”

“I ken.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Her fair eyebrows shied high onto her forehead in astonishment. “But how could you?”

“The same way, leannan, ye ken that I like three sugar lumps in my tea.”

“Oh.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced. Probably because women were trained to notice such details while most men were oblivious.

While at the San Sebastians’ the other day, Tobias had observed Emily eating three almond cakes. He asked Mrs. Cakebread to impose upon San Sebastians’ cook to share the recipe.

Emily gave him an arch glance—somewhere between amused and cynical before turning the subject back to the matter at hand. “We’ll need to see to Avery’s wardrobe at once. A heavy purse will ensure the completion of a few gowns is expedited.”

“Exactly so.” Tobias took another sip, inordinately pleased by her cooperation. “Our smiling, composed presences will quash any unsavory gossip like an ant beneath a boot heel.”

Once more, Emily raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“I admire your optimism, Tobias. Even if a trifle misplaced. Surely you know the ton believes what the ton wants to believe, regardless of facts.”

Another blast of wind rattled the windows. The weather grew quite ugly.