I tilt my head so he can see the silvery line of the scar that runs along my temple. “It’s had plenty of time to heal.” I’d lied to my mother, told her I slipped in the bath and that’s why I wasblack-and-blue for weeks. She was too preoccupied with Lydia to question me.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear it,” he says.
I haven’t any idea what’s going on inside his head. All I know is that I need to get out of this room. I reach for the doorknob, but he stops me, placing his hand on the doorframe above my head, effectively caging me in.
“Give me the truth,” he says, “and you can go back to the ball like nothing happened at all.”
“Find me again, somewhere more private.”
He shakes his head. “No. You’ll tell me now.”
“Nothinghashappened, other than your failed attempt at seduction.”
He crouches down so we’re at eye level. His face is so close to mine I can see the constellation of faded freckles on the bridge of his nose, the tangled lashes that frame his sharp eyes.
“You think this is me trying to seduce you? If I were trying to seduce you, you’d know.” He seems relieved that I’m finally standing still. It makes me want to kick him in the shins. “Once more, I beg of you, did you cheat?” he says.
“No. I didn’t cheat. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to dance with Bram.”
I turn the doorknob, but Emmett juts his hand to stop it from opening.
“Wait—I hear voices.” But he’s not quick enough, and the door swings open, sending Emmett’s entire body weight falling into me.
We tumble out of the bedroom through the open door and into the hallway. His legs tangle in my skirts, and I land hard on my back, with him on top of me.
I swear under my breath and try to roll out from under him, and he huffs and tries to pull me to my feet.
I have to hurry, if we’re caught like this—
Suddenly, from the end of the hall, there’s the sound of footsteps.
“Brother? Lady Ivy?” Bram stands stock-still, frozen in confusion at the sight of us.
My cheeks burn crimson with shame that is quickly evolving into panic. Emmett extends another hand to me, but I refuse it and push myself up off the ground.
“I can explain, I—”
Then, from behind Bram, comes someone else.
Tears well in Faith Fairchild’s eyes at the sight of me and Prince Emmett, both out of breath, looking like we’ve been caught in a snare trap.
I expect her to turn to Bram, but instead her gaze stays fixed on a single point. Her voice breaks as she says his name, like she’s said it a million times before. “Emmett?”
Chapter Eleven
Faith turns on her heel, and Emmett sprints after her, leaving me alone with Bram. For a moment we just stare at each other.
“I’m sorry—” I sputter at the exact same moment he says, “Are you all right?”
“I—what?” I expected scolding, outrage, anything other than the genuine concern on the prince’s face.
“I can explain,” I finally breathe out. “I went through the wrong door. His Highness was walking out at the same time I walked in. We collided is all.”
“All right,” he says again, looking at me with surprising kindness. There’s a warmth to his features I didn’t expect. “Would you like to dance?”
“It would certainly get Viscountess Bolingbroke off my back,” I say.
Prince Bram laughs, and it lights up his whole face. I’m close enough to see the way his eyes crinkle at the edges. “She is a fearsome creature, is she not? I’d never leave you to her wrath. Shall we?” He extends a gloved hand, and I take it.
