Page 3 of The Forbidden Lord
Not everyone. Certainly not Lord Nesfield, who would kill her if he knew she’d given this to Sophie. “If your father should find out?—”
“He shan’t.” Sophie slid the vial into her reticule, and her blue eyes clouded over. “Anyway, it’s worth risking his anger, especially after tonight. I’m near to being a candidate for Bedlam already. Look.” She held out her gloved hands, which trembled like skittish foals.
Emily murmured her sympathy.
“Tonight has been a nightmare,” Sophie added, with a delicate pout that would soon be breaking hearts in London. “First, Lady Dryden introduced me to her elegant friends, which was vexing enough. I’m sure I behaved like a complete rattle-brain. And then the disaster with Lord Blackmore!”
“Surely it wasn’t a disaster until your father came along.”
“Not true! I was in a perfect terror the entire time we danced! The earl is well-known for treating respectable women with coldness and contempt.”
“Don’t be absurd.” She couldn’t reconcile Lord Blackmore’s reform efforts with this rumor. “Did your father tell you that?”
“Not just him. Lady Manning said Lord Blackmore rarely attends social events, and then refuses to dance with eligible ladies. Instead, he consorts with fancy women and scandalous widows! They say he has a heart of stone when it comes to decent women of marriageable age.”
Emily rolled her eyes. Sophie was still very young. She couldn’t distinguish legitimate fact from politically motivated gossip. “You shouldn’t listen to such nonsense. I’m sure LordBlackmore is perfectly polite to every woman, or Lady Dryden wouldn’t have introduced him to you, nor would he have danced with you.”
Sophie worried her lower lip with her perfect teeth. “Perhaps you’re right. He was quite the gentleman while we danced, though he was a bit stiff.”
“Besides, if he was indeed so cruel to young women before, he’s clearly reformed. If any sweet innocent could melt a heart of stone, it would be you, dear friend.”
Emily thought she heard something like a muffled snort nearby, but when she glanced around, no one was there. It must have been the wind coming through the open balcony door.
“It doesn’t matter, in any case,” Sophie said. “Papa will never let me dance with Lord Blackmore again. Not that I would want to after Papa’s horrible scene. I’ll never last a day in London! I’d rather run away with one of our footmen than have my coming out. At least Iknowour footmen.”
Emily groaned. “You can’t mean that. Imagine your father’s reaction!” As if Sophie, who thought hardship was having to peel her own oranges, could ever be a servant’s wife!
“No, I … I don’t suppose I do. But I so dread this trip to London.” Sophie’s chin quivered dangerously.
Emily changed the subject. “So you danced with the famous Earl of Blackmore. What was he like? Handsome? Charming? Or too pleased with himself to endure?”
“He was very charming and quite handsome, from what I could tell. He wore a mask, you know, like your cousin.” She colored a bit, then went on reflectively, “Come to think of it, he actuallylookeda great deal like Mr. Phe—” Sophie broke off, her eyes widening in terror. “Oh, no, Papa is just over there. I’m sure he’s searching for me.”
Emily turned around to see Lord Nesfield’s golden lorgnette aimed in their direction. Though he was obviously having trouble seeing at that distance, she groaned.
Sophie ducked down. “He mustn’t find me talking to you. You know how he is.”
She certainly did. Though she and Sophie had been close from childhood, the Marquess of Nesfield had recently discouraged their friendship. Sadly enough, Emily knew why.
“We’d best separate.” Emily squeezed Sophie’s hand. “Go on now.”
“You’re the dearest friend a girl could have,” she whispered, then fled.
Oh, dear, what if Lord Nesfield spotted her giving the elixir to Sophie? She’d best make herself scarce before he decided to waylay her. Ducking through the balcony door, she peered back into the ballroom to make sure he hadn’t seen her.
“Good evening,” said a voice behind her, and she whirled around in surprise, then relaxed when she saw it was Lawrence. She wouldn’t have recognized him in the darkness if not for the bit of candlelight from inside that glinted off his red hair.
“So you were listening in, were you? I should have known. Well, you’ll be happy to know you can finally take me home.”
He stayed oddly silent.
“Youareready to escape this tedium, aren't you?” she said.
When he answered, his voice was low and huskier than usual. “Oh, yes. I’ve been ready for hours. But aren’t you planning to bid our host and hostess good-bye?”
“Oh, I should, shouldn’t I?” she said, ashamed that she'd forgotten such an important courtesy. “Still, I don’t want Lord Nesfield to see me. Do you mind doing it without me?”
He shrugged. “Not at all.” With a bow that was strangely gentlemanly for Lawrence, he headed past her into the ballroom.
