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Apparently, that was all that he’d needed.

And for some unfathomable reason, Emily could not get that abomination of a kiss out of her mind. The memory of his mouth on hers still made her lips tingle and her body tremble.

Perhaps, it was merely confusion. Because she had never, not in her wildest dreams, imagined that she would find his embrace pleasurable.

How could she?

She loathed the man.

Perhaps, it was because his kiss was so different from the ones she’d experienced before. Bernard’s kisses had been more timid, almost uncertain, even during their most intimate moments… She wrinkled her nose. No, she would not think of Bernard. He deserved no more space in her head or her heart.

Did Tyrone?

She downcast her eyes, concentrating on chasing her food around the plate with a fork.

A part of her had thought that their kiss was a sign of new beginnings, that her husband would finally treat her as his wife.

She had been wrong.

He had not shown his face since then and he hadn’t bothered to join the family for dinner, although she was certain he was still in the house.

“Maybe we should go home,” Harriet said and that finally pulled Emily out of her thoughts.

“Home?” she asked. “You want to leave?”

Harriet shrugged. “Let’s be honest, we are not welcome here. Not in this house and certainly not among the ton.”

“So, you want to leave me here alone?” Emily asked, panic rising inside her chest.

Their mother took Emily’s hand in hers and squeezed. “We are not going to leave you, dear. Not until you’re ready.”

“We are not helping, Emily,” Harriet insisted. “You are only splitting your focus. Perhaps without us, you have a better chance to make yourself comfortable here, gain the trust of the servants, and maybe even bond with the duke.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Sophie chimed in. “Have you not seen the library in this place? Our entire house could fit in it. Twice.”

“And Emily promised to find me a tutor,” Reggie chimed in. “Or perhaps the duke can teach me—”

Emily scoffed. “The duke has no knowledge to impart about anything.”

“So, you agree with Harry? You want us to leave?” Reggie’s eyes were wide and his lower lip trembled. Despite the fact that Emily had promised her sisters an entry into the ton, a debut, new clothes, and prospects, Reggie was the one who was most excited about staying in London.

Perhaps he hoped to finally find someone who would help him grow into his role as the man of the house, a baronet, worthy of his title. He had been too young when they lost their father, and their guardian was nothing but a disappointment.

And now, there was a new man in his life—his sister’s husband. And that man was bound to disappoint him, too.

Perhaps Harriet was right, and it was better if they went home.

Except that Emily didn’t even have enough funds to send them on their way. At least this house had food.

“No, of course not. But I wouldn’t rely on the duke for anything. If he can’t even be bothered to show up for dinner—”

Of course, right at that moment, loud steps echoed through the corridor, the doors were thrown open, and the duke appeared on the threshold.

Emily wasn’t prepared to see him and she was prepared even less for the flush that covered her skin at the sight of him.

Her family shot from their chairs and dipped into curtsies and bows, as the duke, with a waistcoat hanging open, his hair disheveled, stomped toward the table. He didn’t bother to utter a greeting or even look at anyone except for Emily. And Emily was grateful for that, because the look in his eyes was anything but pleasant. “Why wasn’t I informed that we had company?” he growled.

She fisted her fingers by her sides and stood. “This is my family. I am certain you remember my mother, Mrs. Fitzwilliam.”