“Mrs. Liston, I have put you here,” Meg said, stopping at a table with one empty seat at it. “I’m certain you already know the ladies.”
Emma watched as her mother’s eyes all but bugged. The table was filled with some of the most important older women of Society. From the Countess of Hastingcross, who almost singlehandedly dictated the fashions of the day, to the Viscountess Breckinridge, whose annual masquerade ball was the most sought after invitation of any in Society.
“Welcome, Mrs. Liston,” Lady Hastingcross said, patting the empty chair beside her. “Your hat is divine.”
Mrs. Liston said nothing else to Emma and Meg, but floated into her chair and immediately launched into a discussion with the others. Emma’s heart swelled at the opportunity Meg had somehow created for her mother.
But she could see there was no place for her at the table and Meg was already drawing her to another seat closer to the edge of the veranda.
“And you shall sit beside me,” Meg said, releasing Emma as she smiled at the ladies who would join them. “Do you know everyone?”
She proceeded to introduce the circle of six others. Emma knew a few but not all, for just as at her mother’s table, they were women who ranked far above her in Society. And like with her mother, each woman was friendly and accepting, and Meg helped along the conversations with lively tales. By the way she included Emma in each discussion, it was obvious she had claimed her as a friend and that seemed to be enough for the others in attendance to welcome her into their circle.
The time flew by as tea and treats were served and good conversation was had. Emma was just beginning to feel comfortable when one of the ladies said, “Margaret, darling, where is your mother?”
“Oh yes,” said another. “I know she left the Rockford ball early—is she well?”
Emma swallowed and sent Meg a quick look. Her friend had paled a shade and her smile now seemed forced rather than natural. “I’m afraid Mother took a bit ill that night and she is not fully recovered.”
“Oh, what a shame,” another woman sighed. “You know, I could recommend my physician. He works wonders, you know.”
Meg’s cheek twitched a fraction and Emma knew the truth in an instant. She so wanted to reach out and squeeze Meg’s hand, comfort her, but she resisted.
“Thank you, I shall get his name from you later,” Meg said.
If there were to be more questions about the absent duchess, they were cut off as the veranda door opened. Emma turned toward it and caught her breath as the Duke of Abernathe stepped from the house and onto the balcony.
His appearance sent a ripple through the crowd and all chatter increased briefly and then stopped as they stared at him. He grinned, like he was soaking up all the female attention, and came forward.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he all but purred.
Greetings were called out by the large group, but Emma stayed mute. She even found herself sliding down in her chair a bit, praying he wouldn’t look at her. Though what she thought would happen if he did was entirely unclear. Would she suddenly glow? Would there be a beacon that lit up above her head and spelled out that she was a fool?
The man probably didn’t even recall meeting her or dancing with her at this point. It wasn’t as if she was important in any way.
He swung his gaze around the veranda just as those thoughts passed through her mind, and suddenly his dark gaze pierced her. He held on her a long moment, the corner of his lip quirking up as he did so. And then his gaze moved on.
And yet in that moment her heart skipped a beat. Her stupid, foolish, idiot heart leapt at just one look from him. Why in the world did she allow that? He was just a man. A handsome man, yes, but so entirely out of her league that she was silly to even look at him, let alone let her body react with attraction.
“I wanted to say hello,” he said. “For how could I resist such a gathering of beauty?”
The group laughed and there were blushes and giggles into fans. Emma watched him smile at the group at large and ducked her head. Of course none of his regard was truly focused on her. It was a trick of the mind, nothing more, seeing something where there was nothing. The man had only danced with her out of some sense of obligation.
She settled back as he spoke a few more words, then exited the veranda back into the house. As soon as he was gone, the party all but exploded as the women talked about him. Even their own table didn’t seem to be deterred by the presence of the duke’s sister as they buzzed about how handsome Abernathe was and mused on the possibilities of his matching that Season.
Emma ignored it all, staring out across the veranda toward the brief glimpses of green grass and flowers out in the garden. In this moment, she knew she had to stay calm. Stay reasonable. She had to keep herself from being swept up in the general obsession with the Duke of Abernathe. For some lucky lady, he would one day be her husband.
But not Emma.
Chapter Four
As the party slowly broke apart, Emma shifted. Ever since Abernathe had come out to say his hellos to the group, she had felt out of sorts. Now she just wanted to go home and forget she’d seen him.
But her mother had fallen into a deep conversation with Lady Breckinridge and there seemed no chance they would leave until Mrs. Liston had wrung every opportunity from the new friendship.
Emma turned to watch Meg walk back onto the veranda after she had escorted some of her guests out. Meg smiled as she headed toward Emma.
“Did you have a good time?” her hostess asked.
