“Hell,” he hissed, striding for the door to the hallway.
“Bother,” she muttered, chasing after him.
He swung open the door, and six bodies fell through, a tumble of skirts and hair and laughter.
He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “What is this?”
Rolling to her backside and scowling up at him, June said in a tone rather like his own, “How dare you tumble a group of ladies to the floor.”
“Rude.” Gertrude managed to push from hands and knees to feet and stand. “You should not meddle in others’ business.”
“Me?” he demanded. “I see six sets of ears where they should not be.”
“Everyone has a right to the hallway.” Lady Diana helped June to her feet. “Do they not?”
“Diana,” Lady Emma warned. “Do not speak to the duke in such a way.”
Samuel sighed and waved away her objection. “No matter.” He fixed the girls with his sternest expression. “Do not seekconversations not meant for you with open ears. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” June lifted her chin.
Felicity smoothed her skirts. “My apologies, Samuel.”
“You’re too old for eavesdropping,” he said.
“You as well, Glenna.” Lady Emma’s hands found her hips. “Now go.” Her voice as stern as his expression.
Yet Lady Briar remained behind as the others filed out in a whispering flurry.
“Yes?” Lady Emma asked, one toe tapping.
“I want to learn how to throw a knife.”
“Of course you do.” Lady Emma huffed. “But—”
“I’ll teach you.” No reason not to. He’d promised to help Emma protect her sisters.
“No.” Emma’s hand on his arm. Her hand. On his arm. Burning like a star fallen from the heaven, burrowing beneath his skin. “It is too much.” Her gaze dropped to her hand. On his arm. And she yanked it away.
“It’s not too much. I’ll do it. Before our meeting every week.”
Briar grinned like she’d been looking forward to knife-throwing lessons her entire life and ran off to join the others.
Leaving Samuel and Emma to stand toe-to-toe once more, the silence between them a tight wire, alive and vibrating.
“I should leave as well,” she said finally, inching toward the door. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For caring. I have decided not to hold that kiss in the garden against you.”
“What kiss?” He raised a brow.
“Precisely. You would never do anything to hurt those you care for. Not purposefully.” She wandered toward the door. “It’s easy to feel carried away. Beneath the moon.” She smiled overher shoulder as she floated through the doorway. “Shall we be friends?”
He nodded, somehow returned her smile, and then she was gone.
Despite legs like ancient oak trees, Samuel somehow made it back to the chair and dropped heavy into it. He dropped his head into his palms with a groan.