Page 28

“Yes.” Emily’s voice was hoarse from sleep. She cleared her throat.

“I tried waking Harriet, but that girl sleeps like a log,” Sophie complained. “What is that noise?”

The sharp sound of shattering glass made Emily flinch. It was followed by loud masculine laughter. Either they were being robbed, rather brazenly, or a more likely scenario was that her husband was finally home.

The door opened once more and Reggie appeared on the threshold. “Emily,” he whispered. “I am scared.”

Emily threw back the covers and slid off the bed. “Get under the covers, Reggie, and don’t be scared. I shall take care of this!”

She jolted toward the chair which held her dressing gown, moving instinctively in the dark room.

“Ow!” She hit her shin against the chair and cursed loudly.

Sophie didn’t react to her sister uncharacteristically spewing obscenities. “Where are you going?”

Reggie moved past her and climbed onto the bed beside his sister.

“Light the candle, will you?” Emily said irritably, trying to fit her arms into the dressing gown. Sophie did as asked and Emily swiftly grabbed the candle. She was already halfway out the door when she remembered to shout to her siblings, “Don’t leave this room!”

Emily flew down the stairs like a fury, her angry steps echoing in the dark hall. Her face was twisted in anger and her eyes burned with a fiery determination. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Emily paused, her hands balled into fists at her sides, listening to where the sounds of raucous laughter were coming from. She moved toward the noise, her dressing gown brushing against the floor and swishing around her ankles.

The library. That’s where all the noise was coming from, she realized rather quickly and her fury intensified. If he needed to drink inside the house, why did he pick the room her family enjoyed the most?

She threw open the door and paused at the horrendous display.

Her eyes rounded as she took in her surroundings. The room was dark, illuminated only by a single fireplace. Most of the scene was swallowed by darkness but what she saw was enough for anger to spill out of her fingertips. Men, strange men, were lying on the floor in a state of half-undress. The bottles of whisky or some other alcohol—Emily didn’t know what exactly—were strewn about the room, some empty, some still had liquid in them and some were broken, with glass scattered everywhere.

And then there was her husband, lying across from the fireplace with a large-bosomed woman, whose breasts were about to pop from her much too-small bodice, dancing right in front of him, waving her skirts about in a rather scandalous manner.

Emily fisted her hands so hard her palms hurt from the nails biting into her flesh. “Get out!” she breathed in a furious whisper.

The woman stopped dancing and turned to look at her. A few men raised their heads, interrupted from their pleasant daze. Only her husband seemed not to notice her as he waved at his dancing companion to continue.

Emily stepped closer and took a deep breath. “I said, everyone, get out!” she screamed loudly.

The woman covered herself with her arms and backed away from the duke. The men scrambled to their feet.

“You can’t kick us out,” one man slurred, wobbling on his feet.

“I gather from her tone that she can,” another one countered.

“But it’s the duke’s house,” the first one continued his protest.

“Who is she?” the third man slurred.

“I am the duchess,” Emily said loudly. “This is my house, and I shall be damned if I let you disgrace it with your drunken presence. My mother is in this house, my siblings! Now pick up your things and leave!”

“Rrrawr,” one gentleman mimicked the roar of a feline. “You never said you married a tigress, Tyrone.”

Tyrone was absolutely out of his wits. He stared at her without a speck of recognition. “That’s my wife,” he finally slurred.

Emily turned her angry gaze toward the strangers in her house and they scrambled to get up and collect their belongings. A couple of men tripped and fell before finally, they all filed out of the room.

Emily stalked toward the bellpull and pulled hard. “You’re a disgrace to your title,” she seethed between her teeth. “A disgrace to the entire male race. How can you act like a complete imbecile while your family suffers? While we are shunned by the ton. Yes! I am your family. And I have had enough of your—” She turned toward him only to realize that he was lying flat on the floor, his chest rising and falling in peaceful slumber.

The butler walked into the room then and looked around, seemingly nonchalant. Probably, because this wasn’t the first time he’d seen this room and his master in their current state of dishabille.

“Please, ask the footmen to convey His Grace into his room,” Emily bit out. “And then I want to see all the servants first thing in the morning. I have an important task for them.”