Page 7 of Wallflower Games: Lady Be Vengeful
Excellent. She had both gentlemen exactly where she wanted them, and her games were only beginning. The urge to rub her hands together with glee overcame her and she barely suppressed the need to give in to it. But she managed. She would not do anything to destroy the carefully laid plans she had made. This was far too important for her to ruin it all now with her overeagerness.
Blake watchedEmma as she moved through the room, a calculating look in his eye. She likely didn’t know what game she was playing, but he’d wager his entire unentailed inheritance that those two gentlemen hadn’t the faintest idea she was leading them around like children still in leading strings. Fools. He sat in the corner, sipping his brandy, though he’d rather be anywhere else. Perhaps he should find Castlebury and challenge him to a game of billiards. But, of course, the duke was absent fromthe afternoon’s entertainment; parlor games were far too tame for men like them. At his own house parties, his sister Victoria handled the arrangements, and he remained as uninvolved as possible. He hadn’t wanted those gatherings in the first place.
Emma left the room with her two admirers. Wasn’t she supposed to be a wallflower? How had she captivated those two sops so effectively? Blake narrowed his gaze. They looked positively besotted. Something wasn’t right. He drained his brandy, setting the glass down with purpose, and decided to follow them to see what she was up to. Blake still thought there was something unusual about these so-called wallflowers. Watching Emma now, he had to wonder why she’d ever been one.
He hadn’t paid her much attention before. It had nothing to do with her; Blake rarely looked twice at innocent young ladies on the marriage hunt, as he had no intention of marrying. But now that he did notice her, he was struck by her beauty. Golden blonde hair, striking blue eyes, a delicate, heart-shaped face—all paired with sinfully pouty lips. She looked like an angel descended from the heavens for the sole purpose of temptation. If she weren’t Harcrest’s sister—and an innocent—he’d find out if she was as wicked as she appeared. Hell, he might do it anyway.
He kept a leisurely pace as he followed them, catching snippets of their conversation and nearly laughing aloud. She played them both with effortless ease, and neither seemed to realize it. She led them to the game room, which, thankfully, was empty. “Here you go, my lords,” she said. “You can play billiards in here.”
“We could,” they replied in unison, “but what will you do?”
“I can sit over there and watch,” she replied with an innocent tone. “I’m not much for games. But if you need anything, I’ll be here.”
The two men collected their cue sticks and set up the game, and Blake strolled in moments later. “Ah,” he said, “I missed a chance to join.”
“You can play the winner, my lord,” Emma suggested, narrowing her gaze at him. Was she already sizing him up, too? She was in for a surprise.
“I’ll just have a drink and watch,” he replied, moving to the bar. On impulse, he poured a second glass and brought it over to her.
She looked at the glass, then at him. “I don’t…”
“Take the drink, Miss Collins,” he urged. “I think you’ve earned it.”
Tentatively, she took it. “And why, may I ask, have I earned it?” She arched a brow.
He settled into the seat next to her. “I must say, I’m surprised at how easily you have them wrapped around your finger,” Blake said, taking a sip of his own brandy. “Those two are not usually so easily led.”
Turning away, she replied, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
He raised his glass in the direction of the two men playing billiards. “They’re not naive, yet you have them behaving like schoolboys.” Blake gave her a pointed look. “What’s your secret?”
Emma brought her glass of brandy to her lips and took a tentative sip. Blake smothered a smirk as she grimaced. “This is dreadful.”
“It does have a certain burn,” he replied with a smile. “I thought you might appreciate it.” He noted how she ignored his question but let it pass for now.
She took another sip, then another, before licking her lips. Blake’s pulse quickened. Those lips were truly divine, and he wanted nothing more than to taste them. “It’s growing on me,” she admitted.
“It does that,” he agreed, his mouth curving into a wicked smile. “Many things do.”
“Why are you here?” she asked, watching him carefully.
“At the manor or in this room?” he countered, suspecting which she meant but wanting her to be direct.
“This room,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I know why you’re at the manor; I wrote the invitations myself. If I didn’t know who was on the guest list, I’d be a fool.”
That was interesting—he hadn’t realized Lady Harcrest hadn’t written them herself. “I’m here,” he said, “to discover what scheme you’re plotting.” He emptied his glass. “Because I’ve no doubt that there is one.”
“Even if there were,” she replied, “it’s none of your concern.”
“That may be true,” he conceded, “but I’ll still uncover it. I don’t like secrets.”
She sighed. “What will it take to make you go away?”
Blake considered. She wasn’t about to let him in on her secrets willingly. But perhaps he could entice her into a game of his own. “How about a wager?”
“A wager?” She frowned. “On what, precisely?”
“I want to know what this is all about.” He gestured toward the earl and the viscount, whohadn’t even acknowledged him upon entering. They were that engrossed in their game. “If I discover what you’re plotting, I win.”
