“You have my word.” Lord Linley nodded, then offered his arm. “Allow me to see you safely back to your party.”
Emma shook her head. “There is no need for that.” She glanced toward the maypole. “They are right over…” Her heart sank as her words trailed off.
They were gone.
Lord Linley studied her, his gaze reflecting concern. “Is something amiss?”
“They were over by the maypole. They must have moved on while you had me distracted.” She sighed, her shoulders rising and falling with the effort. “What am I to do now?” She asked more to herself than him.
“No worries. I will help you find them.” He reached for her elbow, but Emma pulled away.
A fresh wave of anger crested through her. “You have done quite enough, sir,” she said, frustration building with every word. By the time she’d finished the sentence, Emma felt moisture gathering in her eyes.
“I cannot allow you to wander around the village by yourself.” Lord Linley stepped closer. “Let me help find your friends, then I promise to leave you to your fun.” He offered his arm again, then added, “You have my word as a gentleman.”
She sighed, very much wanting to reject his offer and more than a bit cross with him. But what choice did she have? He was correct. She couldn’t run about the village unaccompanied—unprotected.
Emma scanned the village square again, praying she would spot her friends. With so many people gathered and so much commotion and merrymaking, they could be anywhere. Common sense told her she would not be safe on her own.
However, a gut feeling warned that Lord Linley presented danger, too. Albeit of a different kind. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.
Emma was loth to admit that she had reacted to his kiss. Her blood had heated as warmth spread through her, and her stomach had fluttered most unusually. In truth, she would not mind kissing him again.
It pained her further to acknowledge that he was a handsome man. Under different circumstances, she would likely find him rather dashing. It was a wonder that she did not recall having been introduced to him before.
Still, he was her only option for protection among the mass of celebrating villagers. And he was of the peerage, after all. Surely now that he knew her true identity, he would conduct himself as a gentleman should.
“Very well,” she pinned him with her gaze, “but you will first promise to be on your best behavior.”
“I promise I will try my hardest.” Linley gave a rakish grin.
An unwelcome thrill shot through Emma, and she shook her head in disapproval. The man was impossible. Yet she found him charming.
Heaven help her.
Chapter 3
That he had failed to recognize Lady Emma straightaway boggled Archer’s mind. The lady had enthralled him when they’d first been introduced. He’d been captivated by her unusual eyes. The tip-tilted shape like a cat’s eyes and the violet color was unlike anything he’d seen before. They had drawn him in then, just as they had today.
How had he not recognized her straight away?
Adding to her mystery, the lady had paid him very little mind. She’d curtsied as was expected, exchanged a few polite words, then left to join her friends along the edge of the ballroom. Since then, he’d found his gaze seeking her out at every party he attended.
Almost as if they were fated to be together. As though she belonged to him. And that kiss… The devil with it! He wanted to give her hundreds—no, millions—more kisses. Why hadn’t he attempted to further their acquaintance?
The answer to that musing was easy. He hadn’t pressed his suit because she was so off-putting.
On several occasions, too many to count, honestly, Archer thought to approach her, but she always seemed so damn unwelcoming. Her expression was all too often either far too serious, or she was scowling and peering.
He’d swear the woman never relaxed. It was no doubt the reason gentlemen left her to linger on the edges of ballrooms. It certainly wasn’t her beauty that dissuaded them. God, she was stunning in her uniqueness with that raven hair and those captivating eyes.
It made him wonder how she had come to be here, dressed as a common chit at the May-Day festival. He would never have pegged her as the sort to take risks and break the rules.
His curiosity built as he slid his gaze to her, and he asked, “Why are you here?”
“My friends talked me into it,” she said, her voice flat.
“Then why weren’t you enjoying the festival with them rather than watching from afar?”
