Hyacinth wished she’d brought a fan. “I am a bit overheated.”
Emma laid a hand on her arm. “Stay here. I’ll go and fetch you some lemonade.”
“You needn’t.”
“I’m going to.” Stubbornly determined to help, Emma strode off toward the refreshments table.
Hyacinth found herself looking across the ballroom, hoping to find him again.
Other ladies would dance with him, of course. He was handsome and a man of some renown.
She reminded herself that he'd only danced with her because Emma asked him to, and a bit of her euphoria started to ebb.
A few moments later, Emma returned with lemonade.
Hyacinth dutifully took a few sips, and Emma nodded as if satisfied.
“How did Tristan do?” Emma asked after they’d situated themselves side by side to watch the other dancers. “I haven'tdanced with him myself in a long time, but Father was insistent we both learn. I recall him being quite passable.”
“More than passable.” Hyacinth hid her expression by taking another sip of lemonade.
“He tends to be too much in his head, and one has to be in one’s body to dance well, I think.” Emma seemed very certain of her assessment, and Hyacinth pushed down the urge to defend Tristan.
“I was the one who stumbled during our dance.”
“You didn’t.” Emma looked as if she was trying to hold back a chuckle.
“He corrected us beautifully.” Hyacinth inhaled sharply at the memory of how he’d tightened his hold, his hand a heated weight against her back as he pulled her nearer. “Thank you for arranging it, Em.”
“Of course.” Emma winked and gave her a cheeky smile. “I'm pleased to see you happy.”
Hyacinth scanned the ballroom. “And where is Lord Cartwright to claim his dance with you?”
Emma lowered her gaze, as if the parquet floor suddenly fascinated her. “He said he would be late this evening, but he promised me a dance.”
“You are smitten with him.” Hyacinth considered sharing her own feelings about Tristan.
“Perhaps more than I should be.” Emma bit her lip. “He has a bit of a reputation, but I want to know him better. That’s why I must invite him to Oakhill. Tristan won’t be easily convinced, I fear.”
“He wouldn’t approve?”
“My brother is overprotective.”
Hyacinth tucked away that detail, charmed by it. “Griffin is too. I believe Lord Cartwright is a member of the same club as Griffin. Perhaps he could speak to Tristan.”
Emma gripped Hyacinth’s hand, eyes wide. “Does that mean you’ll all come to the house party?”
“I’d like to.” Before the dance, she’d been uncertain. Now, she couldn’t imagine forfeiting any opportunity to spend time near Sir Tristan Brooke.
“We’ll have great fun, I promise. Tristan can be rather absorbed in his work, but we’ll draw him out.” Emma bounced on her toes as if she couldn’t contain her excitement. “Oh, it will be lovely to have you there.”
“And will I get an invitation to join the fun?” a gentleman’s voice drawled, causing both of them to turn his way.
Emma gasped.
Hyacinth offered Lord Cartwright a nod in greeting. He tipped his russet-haired head and spared her a glance before focusing all of his attention on Emma.
“You’re not as late as I thought you’d be,” Emma said in a voice of forced composure.
