Page 17 of A Game of Hearts

For a moment, she thought that he might argue. Then his expression closed again.

“Of course. You are quite right.” He bowed perfectly. “I shall see you at dinner, Miss Everton.”

She watched him walk away, his spine rigid with proper bearing, and wondered if her heart would ever stop aching again.

Chapter Five

Emma sat before her dressing table, watching in the mirror as her maid arranged her hair for dinner. The afternoon’s events kept replaying in her mind - the warmth in Lord Limnwood’s eyes as they danced, the gentle touch of his fingers against her cheek, the way that the afternoon sun had caught golden glints in his dark hair...

“Ouch!”

She flinched as the maid caught a tangle.

“So sorry, Miss!”

The girl’s fingers gentled immediately.

A tap at the door preceded Lady Beatrice’s entrance.

“Are you nearly ready? I simply must speak with you before dinner.”

“Nearly done, my Lady,” the maid assured her.

Emma studied her friend’s reflection in the mirror. Lady Beatrice fairly vibrated with barely contained excitement.

“There now, Miss.” The maid stepped back. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you, Susan. That will be all.”

The moment the door closed behind the maid, Lady Beatrice dropped onto the bed.

“Emma, you cannot possibly mean to pretend that nothing happened in the music room!”

“Nothing did happen.”

Emma smoothed her skirts, avoiding her friend’s eyes.

“Only because I interrupted! Though I still feel terrible about that. If I had known...”

“Known what? That I was about to do something completely improper with a man who thoroughly disapproves of any breach of proper behaviour?” Emma’s laugh held no humour. “Perhaps your interruption was for the best.”

“But the way he looked at you...” Lady Beatrice leaned forward. “Emma, I’ve never seen Lord Limnwood look at anyone that way. And during the waltz! Even Lady Anne noticed how well you moved together.”

“Lady Anne notices everything that might be turned to her advantage.” Emma couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice. “No doubt she’s already planning how to use this afternoon’s events to demonstrate my unsuitability for proper society.”

“Do you care what she thinks?”

“No. But...” Emma’s hands twisted in her lap. “He does. You’ve seen how rigid he is about propriety. Today was... a moment of weakness, nothing more.”

“Was it?” Lady Beatrice’s voice gentled. “Or was it the first time that he let himself show what he truly feels?”

Emma’s breath caught. Before she could respond, another tap at the door heralded Lady Agatha’s arrival.

“Are you girls ready for...” She broke off, studying their faces. “What has happened?”

“Nothing, Aunt.” Emma tried to smile. “We were just discussing the dancing lesson.”

“Indeed.” Lady Agatha’s shrewd eyes missed nothing. “Lady Beatrice, might I have a moment alone with my niece?”