“You’re still going to dance with Lady Felicia, aren’t you?”
“Collier asked me to. She’s the reason I came, Em. So, yes, I intend to secure a spot on her dance card,” he said with gentle smile that he hoped eased a bit of his sister’s concerns. “But we shall see. Perhaps I’ll find her as disagreeable as you do.”
He didn’t think he would. His opinion of the lady was quite high, based on Collier’s descriptions of her nature and accomplishments, but his sister wouldn’t have expressed her concerns if they were not genuine.
“Now, where is Miss Bridewell?”
“She’s in the retiring room. I’ll send her out forthwith.” Her eyes took on a soft look when she added, “Hyacinth has no one on her dance card, so please dance the next dance with her.”
“As you wish.”
She smiled and started out of the alcove.
“And what about you, Em? Will you dance this evening?”
He didn’t understand why his sister had declared herself a wallflower early in the Season and seemed happy to remain so. Gentlemendidask her to dance on occasion, but she showed no particular interest in any of them.
“Yes,” she said a little too quickly. “There is someone who has asked.”
“Only one?”
“Lord Cartwright.”
“I see.” Cartwright was a bit of a rogue, from what Tristan had heard, though he didn’t know the young man well. Now, he would make it his business to know him better.
“I can see you are plotting,” Emma said, letting out a sigh. “You’re being overprotective.”
“Were you not being protective a moment ago with your dire warnings about Lady Felicia?”
“Oh, for goodness sakes. Fair enough.” She drew in a long breath, then squinted an eye at him. “Wait here while I go and fetch Hyacinth.”
He nodded. “I vow not to wander off.”
As he watched his sister stride back toward the ballroom, Tristan reassured himself that the change in plans would not upend his intentions.
One dance with Miss Bridewell.
One with Lady Felicia.
A precise arrangement, orderly and rational.
Order calmed him. And order, Tristan had always found, produced predictable outcomes.
CHAPTER 3
By the time Emma returned to the retiring room, Hyacinth was buzzing with nervousness and was prepared to beg her friend to call the whole thing off. Surely, Lord Litchfield had found other ladies to dance with by now.
But Emma entered the room with a broad smile on her face.
“I’ve asked him and he said he would be happy to dance with you,” she said, her voice pitching high with excitement.
Somehow, it only increased Hyacinth’s agitation.
“He truly said the wordhappy?” she asked.
“He did.” Emma reached for her hand. “Come, don’t keep my brother waiting.”
Hyacinth let herself be led again, and the two retraced the path they’d taken earlier. When they reached the ballroom threshold, Sir Tristan Brooke stood just inside the crowded room. He smiled as they approached.
