Page 111 of The Girl Out of Time
Kemper Masquerade Ball.
It was so obvious now that she knew it. They’d first seen Lady Scarlet at a masquerade ball. Of course, she’d want to meet them at one.
Them.Emmeline circled around the word in her mind. Lady Scarlet may have been her mission from the start, but Emmeline wouldn’t have succeeded without Theo. If he wanted to come, he deserved to be there, and she’d have to survive through the heartbreak of seeing him again. What could she do, anyway? Spend the rest of her life hiding? He was about to become heir to one of the most prominent men in the country; she could hardly escape his mention.
So she penned him a letter—a very simple note, only telling him of the solution. At least now, as she grimly acknowledged, she knew where to send it.
By the time the ball arrived, almost a week later, Emmeline got her spirits up to where she at least enjoyedsomeof the party. Her friends provided a welcome distraction. Louisa arrived to help her with the costume, although Emmeline ended up going for a very simple white gown and a white half-face mask to match. Sebastian entertained her with musings about his own costume, wondering whether he should carry Henry VIII’s list of former wives with him or pretend he was seeking a new one at the ball.
He and Louisa didn’t leave her alone at the ball, either. Like two loyal, moral-support guards, they led her from this part of the room to the next, avoiding that group of people (for Emmeline didn’t feel like conversing) and going to that dessert table. It took her an hour into the party to realize Sebastian and Louisa hadn’t bickered once this evening.
“And that’s why crop rotation is absolutely crucial,” Sebastian said as they were loitering around the fringes of the room, and somehow, the conversation had turned to plantsagain. “Personally, I instruct my manager to follow Townshend’s four-crop method.”
“Do you start with legumes?” Louisa asked.
“Of course. They give you the added benefit of being able to eat pea soup as soon as possible.”
Louisa smiled. “I hadn’t talked to the manager at Lennemere for a while—well, since Mama told me that’s not ladylike—so I’m not sure which methods we’re employing. Perhaps you should talk to Papa.”
Emmeline swished the punch in her glass, observing the two from the side. Sebastian looked at Louisa, then back to the swirl of couples dancing in the center of the room, and very casually remarked, “Perhaps I should go speak with your father.”
And Louisa, doing the same, said, “I think I’d like that.”
“Do you think you might like a dance as well?”
Louisa waited for a moment. “I believe I would.” Then, as if remembering her guard duty, she looked to Emmeline.
“It’s fine, you two go. I can handle myself.” Emmeline gave them a reassuring smile as they left for the dance floor, slipping into a slight, thinking frown as she watched them take their position.
If Sebastian was her direct ancestor on her mother’s side, and Sebastian liked Louisa, did that mean Louisa was also …
Oh, that was weird.
A flash of red on the periphery broke her trail of thoughts. She’d wondered if Lady Scarlet would come dressed in red. She whipped her head to the side, only to be disappointed at first when the newly arrived guest was a man, then be shaken out of her reasonably stable existence upon realizing it was Theo.
He was wearing a standard outfit, mostly black, like many other men; but unlike their simple, black half-face masks, his was a bright crimson. In a flash of memory, Emmeline was taken back to their masquerade ball—to her handing him a red ribbon hastily made into a mask and tying on a white version herself.
He remembered. He had to.
She glanced at Louisa and Sebastian, not to seek help, but rather to make sure they wouldn’t notice. They were sufficiently distracted, talking while they weaved through the other couples in the quadrille, and when she looked back at Theo, he was already approaching around the side of the ballroom. He had to step around a few people and avoid a footman carrying drinks, but his eyes never left her.
She clenched her glass, then figured it wasn’t safe in her shaking hands and deposited it on the table.Stay calm. Just stay calm.But instead ofobeying her commands, her heart beat faster, matching the lively tune of the orchestra.
“Emmeline.” Theo stopped next to her.
“Theo.” She hated that her voice came out much too close to a plea.
“You look …” He gulped and glanced to the side. “Beautiful.”
“Where’s your fiancée?”
“She’s not attending this evening.”
She couldn’t decide whether to be happy about that or annoyed at herselfforbeing happy.
“May I have a dance?” he asked.
She wanted, with all of her heart, to dance with him, even if it was one last time, and her heart would shatter afterward. She also wanted to throw a drink into his face, as Miss Meriwether did inThe Lady of Craighugh Castle, with great drama and flair, and tell him to go home to his fiancée and dance with her instead.
