Page 2 of The Forbidden Lord
“That may be true, but it doesn’t prevent her from fearing your sex.”
A sudden commotion on the dance floor roused the crowd’s attention. Lawrence peered over their heads, his eyes narrowing. “Well, that put an end to that, didn’t it? Doesn’t surprise me.”
“Put an end to what?” A bald man in a toga blocked Emily’s view. Goodness gracious, what she wouldn’t give for a stepping stool right now! “What’s happening?”
“Sophie’s father just wrenched her from Blackmore’s arms. What a fool Nesfield is.” He leaned forward to survey the scene she couldn’t see. “Now he’s shouting at Blackmore.”
“Poor Sophie must be mortified!”
“‘Poor Sophie’? What about Blackmore?” He adjusted his mask. “Wait a minute. Why, jolly good, Blackmore! That’s the way to handle a fool.”
She rose up on tiptoe again, but could only see a giant Merlin’s hat. “What is it? What’s he doing?”
“He’s walking away, cool as a cucumber. Nesfield is following him, ranting, but Blackmore’s ignoring him, which makes Nesfield look ridiculous.”
“I don’t understand. Why won’t Lord Nesfield let Sophie dance with Lord Blackmore?”
Around her people were murmuring, and they seemed to share Lawrence’s opinion of the Marquess of Nesfield.
“Nesfield is Blackmore’s chief opponent in Parliament.” An acid tone entered his voice. “The marquess believes in leaving people downtrodden, because helping them might encourage them to rise up and overthrow the aristocracy. To him, Blackmore is the worst of rabble-rousers and thus much too sullied for the pure Sophie.”
“Oh, yes,” she said indignantly. “The marquess has always been suspicious of men where Sophie’s concerned. Ever since she was a girl, he’s been worried that some blackguard will carry her off. That’s why she’s so afraid of men—because he hasn’t allowed her to be around boys her age, and she knows only what he tells her about them.”
Lawrence cast her a skeptical glance. “I thought she had a brother. Surely he taught her better.”
“Her brother ran off when she was eight. He was very young—seventeen, I think—and he and his father had a great row. He lives on the Continent. So without her brother around and her mother dead, Sophie has only her father to guide her, andhehas taught her that every man is suspect.”
“I think you’re making excuses for her, though Lord Nesfieldisan idiot.” Suddenly his face grew more somber. “Wait, she’s coming toward us. While her father was haranguing Lord Blackmore, she slipped off. Now you can give her that elixir, so we can go. But if you don’t mind, I’ll absent myself, before she sees me and grows ‘terrified.’” With a sniff every bit as haughty as any he could attribute to Sophie, he stalked into the crowd of dancers.
As soon as he left, Emily saw Sophie burst through the crowd, her face mottled with shame. The poor dear. And her looking so pretty tonight, too. Though Sophie’s coming out was soon, and this ball was something of a practice for it, she was notactually out, which was probably why she wore no costume. But her lavender silk gown was fine and rich, accentuating her petite figure and raven hair. No wonder Lord Blackmore had wanted to dance with her.
Sophie caught sight of Emily, then hurried to her side in a rush of skirts. “Oh, Emily, did you see?”
“No, but Lawrence told me about it.”
Her face reddened. “Your cousin saw it? Oh, I’ll never live down the shame! It was horrible, simply horrible! Everyone must think awful things about me now!”
Emily embraced her poor friend. “It’s all right, dear. No one will think anything aboutyou. They’ll only blame your father, as well they should.”
Sophie’s small body trembled, and Emily could tell she was on the verge of tears. That wouldn’t do.
She set Sophie firmly away. “Chin up, dear, it’s over now. You must behave as if it didn’t rattle you, or everyone will talk of it in the morning.”
Choking back a sob, Sophie dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “You’re right.” She glanced around. “They’re all watching me, aren’t they?”
“Never mind them.” Seeking to distract her, Emily added, “I brought the calming elixir you wanted.”
Sophie’s face brightened. “You did? Truly?”
“I could hardly resist your begging, could I?” Emily smiled as she drew the glass vial from her reticule. “You wouldn’t have sneaked out to visit me yesterday if you hadn’t been desperate.”
Sophie took the vial from Emily and examined it, her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears. “I can never thank you enough for this, my dear, dear friend. You’ve saved my life!”
“Nothing so spectacular, I’m sure, but I hope it helps.” Sophie’s enthusiasm gave her a moment’s unease. Only once had Emily’s nostrums caused harm …
No, she wouldn’t think of that. Nothing could happen this time. The elixir was mild as chicken soup, a mere diffusion of chamomile, lavender flowers, and balm leaves.
“I know it will be agreathelp,” Sophie said. “Everyone swears by your nostrums.”
