Lady Emma huffed a frustrated sigh. The last thing she wished to do was discuss anything with the rogue. Still, she’d wager he would not leave her alone if she did not answer. Emma pursed her lips as she considered how much to share, then said, “They wanted to dance around the maypole, and I had no wish to. I was not that far away from them.”
“Far enough that you lost them,” he said.
Her violet eyes sparkled with indignation. “I didn’t lose them. You distracted me and no doubt blocked me from their view. I’d wager they are searching for me at the very moment.”
Archer nodded, then grabbed her hand. “You will be easier to find if you are amongst the action.” He attempted to lead her into the crush of people.
She dug in her heels, her eyes rounding. “I cannot.”
“You can.” Archer gave an encouraging tug, setting her back in motion. “Come now. You may even enjoy yourself.”
He’d never met another person who was more in need of a good time, and he determined to see her have one. If he accomplished nothing else this day, he’d see Lady Emma laugh and smile.
The parade led by Jack-in-the-green marched through the square, and as it rounded the maypole, Archer led Lady Emma toward the procession. She had no time to argue before they were swept into the tide. “Let yourself enjoy the moment,” he said.
She gave him a stern look, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. “I feel like a fool,” she said.
“Then you are doing it right,” he said. Her protest only made him more determined to make her smile. Archer released her hand and danced a jig, lifting his knees high and grinning like a mischievous schoolboy.
The corner of her mouth twitched, but she did not smile.
He reached for her and twirled her out of the procession before coming to stand beside her. “How can you remain stoic while parading about with Jack-in-the-green?” He asked.
She shrugged one shoulder. “It is a gift, I suppose.”
He shook his head. “More like a curse, I dare say.”
Then it happened. Lady Emma smiled, the apples of her cheeks rounded, and her eyes brightened with merriment.
Archer likened it to the sun peeking out from behind dark clouds to brighten the sky. “You should do that more often,” he said.
“Do what?” She asked, the radiant smile disappearing as she tilted her head ever so slightly to one side.
“Smile.” Archer leaned closer. “You are stunning when you smile.”
* * *
Emma’s cheeks warmed at the compliment. No man had ever called her stunning before. Nor had any man ever looked at her in the way Lord Linley did now. He stared at her as if she were something special, something rare and worthy of overt attention.
Her belly fluttered, and she placed a hand over it, willing herself not to be foolish. He couldn’t possibly have an interest in her. Surely his words were meant only to lift her spirits. Or perhaps he’d said them, hoping to redeem himself for his earlier actions.
She closed her eyes and drew in a breath.
Regardless, she didn’t have time for teasing and flirting. Emma had to locate her friends. She swept her gaze through the thick swarm of people, searching for any sign of them.
Squinting against the sun, Emma held her hand to the edge of the floral wreath that crowned her head. She’d give anything for the Sade of a bonnet right now.
Frustrated, she dropped her hand and turned to Lord Linley. “Are you familiar with the duke?”
Lord Linley nodded. “Though it would be most helpful to know who else is in his company.” He looked at her with sincerity in his gaze. “I swear never to speak a word of it. You can trust me.”
She didn’t want to add her friend’s names to the pile of misbehaved lords and ladies who’d skirted propriety to attend the festival. Nonetheless, doing so would make it easier for Lord Linley to help her, and in all likelihood, he would recognize them once they met, anyway.
Emma returned her attention to the bustling villagers, then said, “The duchess, Lady Juliet Gale, and the duke’s three sisters are with him.”
Emma would swear she’d seen disapproval move across Lord Linley’s eyes. “Do not judge,” she warned, even as she recognized he was right to do so.
Emma herself had insisted they ought not to come here. Still, everything might have worked out if the viscount hadn’t kissed her.
