“M-Mrs. Harding told us about the auction,” Lady Scarsdale said.
“Yes, and we intend to help you avoid it entirely,” Ashleigh finished. “We’ll do our best to find someone for you.”
A pang caught her heart at their willingness to help her. She was hardly more than a stranger to them, but the two women seemed sincere in their efforts. “Please don’t think me ungrateful, but... why would you go to so much trouble for my sake? We hardly know each other.”
“I know w-what it is to be a w-wallflower,” Lady Scarsdale said. “And what it is to be mocked.”
“Mrs. Harding’s school changed my life,” Ashleigh answered. “I am glad to help someone else. Especially after I was such a coward before.”
An ache caught in her throat, but Emma said, “Thank you both so much.”
“Don’t thank us yet,” Ashleigh cautioned. “We’re only getting started. Violet, who is the first gentleman on our list of husband candidates?”
“Viscount Richford,” she answered. “H-he is standing over b-by the refreshments.”
Ashleigh turned in that direction and asked, “What do you think of him, Miss Bartholomew?”
Emma couldn’t hide her smile. “I can’t see him. You’ll have to describe him for me.”
“I am an idiot,” Ashleigh sighed. “Sorry. He’s taller than you with light brown hair. A little older, perhaps in his forties. He has a beard and mustache, and his smile is nice enough.”
“He’s a w-widower, isn’t he?” Violet asked.
“I believe he came out of mourning last year,” Ashleigh said. “What do you think? Would you like to meet him?”
“I suppose so.” But in all honesty, she was hoping that Lord Dunmeath would arrive. He’d promised to come tonight to assist her. And although she didn’t trust him, she wanted to see whether he would keep his word about defending her from idle gossip. She’d wanted to believe that he would help her—and yet, he wasn’t here.
Emma followed the women toward the refreshment table, but as she walked, she could feel a tingling sensation—as if she were being watched. The crowds parted for them, but she sensed people staring. Her face flushed, and she tried to ignore it.
“Lady Scarsdale,” Emma asked. “It seems like everyone is looking at us. Or am I wrong?” She wondered if Miss Cooper or Lady Chelsea had spread rumors or lies about her.
“It’s p-probably nothing,” Lady Scarsdale said. “Your g-gown is quite lovely. That may be why.”
“Do you want me to find out?” Lady Ashleigh inquired. “I could make discreet inquiries. My husband could learn whatever it is you wish to know.”
“Please,” Emma answered. “I would be grateful.” Although she had come here tonight to meet other suitors, something felt unusual, almost uncomfortable.
“Oh dear,” a snide female voice said. “I didn’t realize my family had invitedeveryoneto our ball.”
Emma recognized the voice of Lady Persephone, the Duke of Westerford’s daughter. Normally, she escaped Persephone’s notice but not tonight, unfortunately.
She took a breath and ventured politely, “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Persephone.”
“Oh,Ididn’t invite you,” the woman sneered. “It must have been my mother. She does like to be charitable.”
Her words were a razor, slashing any enjoyment Emma might have felt. Right now, all she wanted to do was leave. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned away.
“Enjoy your evening,” Lady Persephone called out. “I’m certain that Lady Ashleigh and Lady Scarsdale won’t mind leading you around the room like a pet out for a walk. At least it will keep you from being a wallflower.”
“Violet, did you hear anything just now?” Without waiting for a reply, Ashleigh answered her own question. “No? Neither did I.”
Before the woman could say anything else, Violet and Ashleigh took Emma’s hands and skirted her away.
Ashleigh let out a sigh. “I’m so sorry for what she said. Persephone has always been horrid. I doubt if any man will ever want to marry her.” She looped her arm in Emma’s. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Emma managed. “It was just words.” But more than ever, she wished she were anywhere but here.
“Now, I thought Lord Dunmeath was supposed to be here this evening,” Ashleigh began. “Wasn’t he?”
