Tristan’s brows jumped. “Is she?”
“You’d know that if you ever took the time to talk to her.”
Tristan scoffed. “You two are thick as thieves whenever you’re together,” he teased. “How could I get a word in?”
“Well, now is your chance,” Emma insisted, nearly bouncing on her toes as if to emphasize the urgency of her request. “Are you promised to anyone for the next dance?”
“I am not, though I’d hoped to dance with Lady Felicia this evening.” Tristan turned his head, trying to spot the lady in question among those gathering in the center of the ballroom.
“Good grief, are you going to court her?”
From the moment he’d mentioned Lady Felicia, Emma had expressed reservations about her fellow debutante, though she’d never fully explained why.
“Why don’t you like her, Em?”
She crossed her arms. “It is a conversation for another time.”
Tristan shrugged. “She seems quite popular.” That fact should have been obvious. “And lovely.”
Emma scowled. “There are plenty oflovelyladies in this ballroom, if that is your only requirement.”
“It is not my only requirement?—”
“I’ve overheard her gossiping with others,” Emma blurted.
“Don’t all ladies gossip?”
Emma sniffed. “Gentlemen gossip too.”
“I believe you’ve just made my point.”
Emma turned her head this way and that as if to ensure they were not overheard. “She is quite harsh-tongued when she gossips, Tristan.”
He frowned. “That is certainly not the young lady Collier described.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “He is her cousin. Of course he thinks well of her.”
Tristan scoffed, but his sister continued to scowl.
“Em, has she said something cruel to you?” That would certainly curtail any interest he had any the lady.
“Not to me in particular, but she’s rather cutting about wallflowers in general. I fear that she’s one who’s pretty on the outside but perhaps not on the inside.”
Tristan tipped his head, pondering her words. “You’re not usually uncharitable about anyone.”
“I’m not being uncharitable, Tristan. I’m being honest and forewarning you.”
Emma arched a brow. “Hyacinth is warm-hearted and easy to converse with.”
Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you truly attempting to play matchmaker between your friend and your brother?”
Emma darted her gaze away and then back to his. “You have a good deal in common. Will you dance with her?”
“I will.” Tristan leaned in a bit closer and lifted a finger. “But don’t expect more.”
Emma looked contented that he’d agreed, but the tense set of her shoulders and the little furrow between her brows remained.
“What is it?”
