He hadn’t been the least charmed byher, that much was certain. She’d given him her widest eyes, her best smiles, and he’d scowled back at her as if he’d caught her picking his pocket.
That was unexpected, and…disarming, somehow.
Emma braced her elbows on the dressing table and pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to recall what he’d said. Something about deploying her charms on Lord Lovell. He’d actually used the worddeploy, of all absurd things. Then he’d made that inexplicable observation about her voice, or flirtatious glances, or some such nonsense, and then he’d warned her to keep away from his cousin.
Emma sat up, her gaze meeting her own reflection in the glass. Lord Lymington had actuallywarnedher away from Lord Lovell.
But why? What objection could he possibly have to Lady Emma Crosby? She was the daughter of an earl, for pity’s sake, and possessed of an impressive fortune.
It didn’t make any sense. Emma hadn’t even had a chance to single Lord Lovell out for any particular attention this evening—
“Oh, dear. You don’t look pleased, Lady Emma. Was your dance with Lord Lymington really as unpleasant as that?”
Emma’s head jerked up, and she found Lady Flora Silvester hovering in the doorway to the lady’s retiring room. “It wasn’t unpleasant, precisely, but, well…not preciselypleasant, either. I’ve just been sitting here wondering whether I should have danced with him at all.”
“He can be rather terrifying. That is, I don’t mean one has areasonbe terrified of him,” Lady Flora hastened to correct herself. “Only that, well…oneis, isn’t one?”
Emma hadn’t been at all terrified of Lord Lymington, but Lady Emma Crosby likely would have been, so she nodded in agreement. “A bit, yes.”
Lady Flora ventured closer, a hesitant smile on her lips. “He’s not nearly so bad as he seems upon first acquaintance. He rather grows onone, you see.”
“Indeed? I’ll keep that in mind.” Not that she anticipated sharing another dance with Lord Lymington. Emma patted the empty space beside her on the settee. “Will you sit with me?”
“Oh, I don’t wish to bother you. My grandmother and Lady Crosby sent me in search of you, and bid me bring you to supper. Have you ever had Almack’s supper, Lady Emma?”
“No. Is it dreadfully elegant?”
“No,just dreadful.”
Emma laughed. “Truly?”
“I’m afraid so. I rather despise Almack’s, on the whole. Everyone smirking and staring, and gossiping behind your back.” Lady Flora shuddered. “They all complain about the dry cake and sour lemonade, but thetonis much more distasteful than any cake I’ve ever tasted.”
Emma laughed again, the comparison striking her fancy. “How are you so familiar with Almack’s, Lady Flora? Didn’t your grandmother say this is yourfirst season?”
“Oh, it is, but I daresay it won’t be my last.”
“I’m certain that’s not true.” Lady Flora was the daughter of an earl, and such a pretty, engaging young lady, with her sweet smile. Were London’s aristocratic gentlemen so foolish they couldn’t see that?
“I’m afraid it is.” Lady Flora sighed. “I have no money, you see. My father was a devotee of the hazard tables, and my elder brother followed in his footsteps. Now they’re both dead, and my grandmother and I are left as poor as church mice.”
“But that’s awful!” Emma had heard such stories before, and they never failed to make her furious.
“Yes, isn’t it? But I didn’t come here to bemoan my fate. I only came to assure you Lord Lymington isn’t as awful as he appears, in case he asks you to dance again.” Lady Flora wandered across the room and perched on the settee at Emma’s side. “He’s really a kind gentleman, if atrifle blunt.”
“Do you know the family well, then?” Emma leaned closer, half-ashamed of herself for attempting to pry secrets from Lady Flora’s innocent lips, but not ashamed enough to keep herfrom doing it.
“Very well, yes. My father’s estate in Kent is in the same neighborhood as Lymington House. My grandmother is friends with Lady Lymington, and I grew up with Lancelot—that is, Lord Lovell.”
“But not with Lord Lymington?” Emma did her best to hide how interested she was in LadyFlora’s answer.
“No. Lord Lovell is eight years his cousin’s junior.” Lady Flora smiled, her dark eyes lighting up. “Lancelot used to follow Samuel about like a devoted, adoring shadow when they were boys. They were like brothers then, but Lord Lymington’s been gone these past eight years. He was a captain in the Royal Navy, on board theHMS Nymphe.”
Emma frowned. “A marquess, risking his life on board a Navy ship? That’s rather unusual.”
“It is, yes. Lord Lymington’s father died when he was very young, and his Uncle Lovell came to Lymington House to see to the estates. He and Lord Lymington never got on. The previous Lord Lovell was…rather a difficult man.”
“He must have been difficult indeed, to chase Lord Lymington from his own estate,” Emma said, eager to hear more.
