Page 3 of The Lady Was Lying
“Emmeline,” the earl murmured softly, ignoring James entirely as he put a protective arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her into his side. “Whatever is the matter? Do you need to sit down?”
The countess blinked, her attention darting to her husband as she smiled weakly. “No. Sorry. I’m…uh…quite well.” She turned back to James and hesitantly asked, “Have we met before?”
“No,” he responded with complete certainty. He did not know her. Had never seen her in his life. His circle of acquaintances in London included the men he’d met at his godfather’s club over the past week and no one else.
“I’m newly arrived,” he added as she continued to stare at him.
“Have you ever visited Cheltenham?” she asked.
His heart stopped. It couldn’t be a coincidence that she mentioned his mother’s birthplace. Unable to form words, he shook his head slowly.
“I’m sorry. You look…” She leaned forward. “It’s uncanny how much you look like my father.”
His discomfort spiked even higher. It seemed so unlikely, and yet?—
“You could be brothers.”
“Brothers,” he echoed, momentarily relieved. The countess was a grown woman, so therefore her father must be the age of his father and…no. It couldn’t be.
“Well…maybe not brothers.” She chuckled. “My father is no longer with us, and you are quite a bit younger than he was.” She paused. “I…I sound ridiculous, don’t I?”
“Not at all.” What else could he say?
Surely, she was mistaken. And if she wasn’t, surely any resemblance between him and her father was nothing but coincidence.
But what if it wasn’t?
“He’s lying,” the earl interjected, his attention still firmly fixed on his wife while he ignored the long line of guests that were waiting to greet him. “You do sound a little ridiculous. Perhaps you are overheated.” He placed his palm on her forehead. “Maybe it would be best if you took a bit of a respite.”
“But—" the countess argued.
“The duke is far too young to be your father’s brother,” the earl responded quite reasonably. “Any resemblance between them is pure happenstance.”
Was it though?
“I know, but?—”
“Em, darling.” The earl dropped his head and spoke directly into her ear.
She frowned and then nodded slowly. “We will speak of this later.”
“Of course,” the earl agreed. “We can discuss it as much as you like after the ball.”
“After the ball,” she confirmed.
Although there were many things he wanted to ask, James was ever so glad he wouldn’t be around for that conversation. Was it too much to wish that he could reverse time and never encounter the countess at all?
With as much composure as he could muster, he bowed over the countess’s hand and pretended nothing unusual had occurred. “It was lovely to make your acquaintance.”
“And yours,” she responded, scrutinizing him for another long moment before turning and slipping away.
“Your Grace,” the earl said when his wife was gone. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Jane.”
James had been too surprised by the countess’s reaction to even notice the young lady standing nearby, observing him as if he were the single most amazing thing she’d ever seen. He smiled politely while she positively beamed back at him.
“Your Grace,” she breathed, her words laced with excitement.
“Lady Jane. Pleasure.” He bowed over her hand and wished he were capable of feeling anything other than trepidation. Maybe he shouldn’t have come to the ball. Maybe he shouldn’t have come to London. Desperate for a moment to gather himself, he quickly added his name to Jane’s dance card and slipped away.
