Page 28 of The Forbidden Lord
How very sad. “It sounds as if you know him well.”
“We’ve been friends since childhood, and we attended Eton together. There’s little we don’t know about each other.”
Emily fought the urge to ask him about Jordan. She should be questioning him about Sophie instead. Dismissively, she remarked, “Well, I think he’s insolent and boorish.”
Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Why? Because he mistook you for a rector’s daughter? You needn’t worry about that. I set him straight. He won’t trouble you with such nonsense anymore.”
“You don’t mean to say that he still thinks I’m this … Emily creature!”
Did she imagine his slight hesitation? “No, of course not. Your waltz seems to have disabused him of the notion.”
Thank heavens, the kiss had worked. This masquerade would be difficult enough, especially if Jordan were Lord St. Clair’s good friend.
“Actually,” the viscount went on, “I believe he’s as interested in you as he was the rector’s daughter.”
Emily’s pulse began a wild thumping.Steady, now,she cautioned her foolish heart.It’s not me that Jordan finds interesting, but that wanton creature, Lady Emma. And he’s forbidden to both of us, now more than ever.
“Well, I don’t return the interest, I assure you.” She tucked her hand in the crook of St. Clair’s elbow. “I much prefer you to him. You don’t spend the evening scowling at me.”
“I’m flattered, Lady Emma, but ...” He paused.
“But what?”
“My interest lies with your cousin.”
Aha! Her flirting had finally turned up something useful. Odd that he’d announced his infatuation in such a cool manner, but Lord St. Clair didn’t seem the sort to wear his heart on his sleeve.
“Does she return your interest?” She held her breath. This masquerade might end tonight if he cooperated. It couldn’t end too soon for her.
“You mean she hasn’t mentioned me at all?” he said.
Oh, dear. She scrambled to rethink her tactics. “You must understand, we’ve had little chance to talk since my arrival. With this illness, she sleeps all the time and only rouses to take her medicine.”
The concern in his face seemed appropriate, though not excessive. “That sounds serious.”
“Not really,” she hastened to assure him. “I mean, it maysoundserious, but I’m sure she’ll be fine after a few days’ rest.”
For a woman who’d been taught that lying was an awful sin, she’d certainly learned the art of it quickly. Obviously wickedness was as easy as it was wrong.
She was saved from more lies when Lady Dundee emerged from the crowd and bore down on them like a mother elephant thundering to the rescue of her calf. “Where have you been, you naughty girl? I told you not to stray too far!”
It took Emily a second to remember her role as willful “daughter,” but her response was quick. “I refuse to follow you about like a ninny, Mama. I intend to enjoy myself, no matter what you and Uncle Randolph want.”
Lady Dundee whipped out her fan and worked it furiously. “The very idea! That a young girl should think of enjoyment before her elders’ wishes—what is the world coming to?” She leaned toward Lord St. Clair, her tone conspiratorial. “I do hope you’ll keep an eye on my daughter. You’ve been so very solicitous of Sophie that I know I can trust you to be a good influence on this willful creature here.”
“I’ll do my best to curb her youthful impulses,” Lord St. Clair answered, flashing Emily a sympathetic glance over the countess’s head.
Emily bit back a smile. Obviously, the countess also believed Lord St. Clair to be a likely suspect for Sophie’s love.
Mr. Pollock suddenly emerged from the crowd to join them, a glass of punch in his hand. He glanced sullenly at Lord St. Clair and the untouched champagne in her hand, then gave her the punch. “It’s the last of it, Lady Emma. I think you were right about the ball ending.”
Lady Dundee fixed her penetrating gaze on Mr. Pollock. “Of course it’s ending. I’m told Merrington’s affairs never go late. Our young ladies need their rest.”
She glanced quizzically at Emily, who gave her the barest nod to indicate that Mr. Pollock was one of her suspects. Then thecountess bestowed a regal smile on both men. “So I fear we must be on our way as well. We’re attending a breakfast tomorrow.”
“Which one?” Lord St. Clair asked.
Lady Dundee snapped her fan closed. “Lady Astramont’s. Perhaps we’ll see you there?”
