Free A Matter of Scandal by Suzanne Enoch Page B

handed the bundle over, brushing her fingers as she took it from him. Not even sparing it a look, she set it on the seat beside her. Then Emma cleared her throat, her eyes on the road in front of her, and scarlet still staining her cheeks.
    “Thank you.” With a weak cluck she flicked the reins and the dilapidated cart and horse lurched into motion again.
    Grinning, Grey fell in beside her. However much the kiss had startled him, she’d obviously been even more affected. She probably was unused to having males about. Now that she’d begun to figure out what benefits his masculine presence could provide, this was going to be the easiest seduction—and thereby the most satisfying wager—he’d ever won. He’d be surprised if she managed a mile before she threw herself on him.
    They’d only gone half that distance when she looked over at him. “Why are you still here?”
    That was unexpected. “You’ve begun work on your part of the wager,” he improvised. “I would like to begin on mine, as well.”
    The cart jerked to a halt. “What?”
    “I would like to meet my students, Miss Emma. If you don’t mind.”
    From the look in her eyes she clearly did mind, but he had little sympathy for her. Emma pressed her lips together, then nodded. “We do not allow men on Academy grounds, but I suppose I will have to make an exception this one time.”
    “At least this once,” he agreed.
    “You will be supervised—at all times.”
    He gave a slow smile. “By you?”
    She faced forward again. “I am the headmistress. Competent instructors staff the Academy, Your Grace. I will look in on your progress when I can, but winning this wager will occupy most of my time.”
    Grey scowled at her profile. Perhaps she hadn’t been as affected by the kiss as he’d thought. He would put more effort into the nextone. “You may be occupied, but you won’t be winning anything.”
    “Well, one of us is wrong, and I’m fairly certain it’s not me.”
    They could continue their little disagreement all day, but in truth, Grey was curious to meet the small females who were going to help him triumph over Miss Emma. Training girls to enter Society successfully would have been at the top of the list of things he’d thought never to do, but teaching a few chits to flirt and twirl would be a small price to pay for bringing the Academy—and Emma Grenville—to her knees.
    A troll stood guard at the front gate. At least he looked like a troll, old and gnarled and seated on a stool which leaned against one side of the old wrought iron. All he needed was a pipe to complete the image. As they approached, the troll unfolded surprisingly long legs and stood, doffing his malformed hat.
    “Morning, Miss Emma.”
    “Tobias.”
    As the cart passed him, the troll moved into the center of the carriage path, blocking Grey. “Sorry, yer lordship. No men allowed.”
    Grey lifted an eyebrow as Cornwall snorted beneath him. “What are you, then?”
    The troll grinned. “Employed. An’ I intend to keep it that way.”
    “It’s all right, Tobias,” Emma called. “His Grace may enter—today. I will give you a written schedule detailing when he will be at the Academy.”
    Doffing his hat again, the troll moved out of theroadway. “You must be the duke of all dukes, Your Grace, t’be allowed beyond these gates when it ain’t visiting day.”
    Glancing ahead at Emma’s disappearing figure, Grey leaned down. “Is she always this strict?”
    “Where outsiders and rules ’re concerned, aye. She’ll do anything for those girls, though. Miss Emma’s tough on the outside, but she’s got a heart bigger than west Hampshire.”
    Somehow, knowing that Emma was so well regarded didn’t leave him feeling particularly masterful. He wasn’t necessarily putting her out of business, though, he decided as he tapped Cornwall in the ribs. He was teaching her a lesson about a chit’s proper place in Society. And, hopefully, in his bed.
    “Are you coming,