“He was, but I haven’t seen him,” Emma answered. She didn’t know what to think of his disappearance other than to wonder if he’d had more headaches. But his absence bothered her more than it should have. It was entirely possible that the flowers and the apology had meant nothing. She pushed back her own feelings of regret, telling herself not to rely on him.
“Wasn’t he s-supposed to dance with you?” Lady Scarsdale asked. “If he doesn’t come, m-my husband will help.”
“Help with what?” a male voice asked. Emma detected a soft laugh and guessed that the earl had come to join his wife.
“Mrs. Harding has asked us to help Miss B-Bartholomew,” the countess said. “She will n-need to meet the right gentlemen.”
“Of course,” Lord Scarsdale agreed. “Whatever she needs.”
“I am willing to help as well,” came another man’s voice.
“Cameron, I’m so glad you’re here.” Ashleigh sounded delighted. She lowered her voice and Emma guessed she was giving instructions to her husband, asking him to find out why everyone was staring.
“In the meantime,” Ashleigh continued, “Miss Bartholomew, we will ensure that you have many dancing partners.”
“Oh, please, not dancing,” she begged. “It’s too complicated for me.”
“Then we will introduce you to several suitors, and you may converse with them,” Lady Ashleigh suggested. She paused a moment and murmured, “Oh dear.”
“What is it?” Emma didn’t have a good feeling about this. “Is it Lord Dunmeath?” The moment she asked, she could have kicked herself. It made her sound as if she’d been waiting only for him.
“Your stepmother is here,” Ashleigh said. “Did you... want to speak with her?”
Oh no. Emma grimaced at the mention of Lucy. “I’d rather avoid her.”
“Food it is, then.” Ashleigh took her hand. “And Cameron, will you and Lord Scarsdale see to it that Lucy Bartholomew cannot possibly see Emma?”
“Consider it done,” her husband answered. Then he murmured to Ashleigh, “Will you save a dance for me later?”
She sighed and answered, “I wish I could save all of them for you. You’re far more interesting to talk to.”
Her husband gave a soft laugh, and Emma could almost hear the love between them. Would she ever know something like it? She could only hope so.
Lady Ashleigh led her through the crowd and into the next room. Emma could smell the tables of food, and her stomach rumbled. She couldn’t quite see the food choices, but before she could choose something, a male voice said, “Good evening.”
She couldn’t tell whether he was speaking to her or Ashleigh, so she glanced in the direction of her friend.
“Good evening, Mr. Durham,” Ashleigh answered. After a brief pause, she asked, “Have you met Miss Emma Bartholomew?”
“I have not had the pleasure.”
His voice was deep and pleasant, but Emma sensed that Ashleigh didn’t like the man. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why. But after Ashleigh made the introduction, Emma answered, “Good evening, sir.”
“I am glad to finally make your acquaintance,” he said. “I’ve been very curious about an invitation I received from your family.”
Her face burned scarlet, for she knew exactly what he was referring to—the auction.
For a moment, she panicked, wondering what she could say to make her escape. “I... don’t know what you mean, sir.”
He laughed softly. “Everyone’s talking about it. And I, for one, am looking forward to placing a bid very soon.”
Thankfully, he left, and Emma closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere but here.
“I’m so sorry for that,” Ashleigh said quietly.
“I don’t understand why he would say he was looking forward to placing a bid soon.” Emma could feel his mockery, and she turned to Ashleigh. “Do you think something has changed?”
“It must have.” Ashleigh guided her away from the food and back toward the main ballroom. “But I don’t know how.”
