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“My apologies, Lady Emma,” Alexander said. “I do not think I should delay in assisting Lady Millward outside. Perhaps we can continue our discourse at a later time.”

The young lady pursed her lips, her cheeks turning the same shade of pink as her gown. “If you feel you must, my lord.” Her irritation bordered on anger. “I hope you recover quickly, my lady.” She turned, her flamboyant gown snapping against the nearby table before she stalked away.

Alexander guided Lady Millward toward the french doors that led to the terrace. The closer they came to their target, the less she leaned on him, and by the time they reached the balustrade outside, she was standing on her own.

“That went rather well, I think,” Lady Millward said. “Definitely one of my better rescues.”

The elderly lady was completely incorrigible. Lady Emma was likely so insulted by what had just transpired between them that she’d never speak to him again—and she’d ensure that none of her friends did either. Alexander could hardly contain his grin.

“What do I need to do to claim you as my honorary aunt,” he said, borrowing from her dramatics and placing his hand on his heart. “Simply name it.”

Lady Millward chuckled. “Two things,” she said. She raised one finger. “First, do not give another moment’s thought to having offended that little chit. She’s not worthy of you and has undoubtedly already moved on to conquer another less discerning young man. Second,” she raised another finger, “tell me what you’ve heard from my niece.”

“Nothing,” he said.

She stared at him. “Nothing? How long has it been?”

“Eleven days.” Would it seem odd to Lady Millward that he knew the exact number without having to think about it? All week, he’d told himself that his thoughts were on Miss Hadford because he was anxious for her report on Asher Barton. But tonight, when he’d stood at the edge of the ballroom wishing he could escape to the library and talk to her, he’d been forced to admit that there might be more to it than that.

“Hm.” Lady Millward frowned. “Something must have happened to prevent her from going to the village right away. The family left here a week ago Tuesday as planned. I really thought you would have heard from her by now.”

“Might her leg prevent her—?”

The look in Lady Millward’s eyes stopped him midsentence. “There is nothing that girl cannot do if she sets her mind to it. The fact that she is walking at all after breaking her pelvic bone and leg in multiple places is testimony enough to that. Despite being placed in the care of a completely incompetent doctor, she survived. Ergo, despite the fact that my overprotective brother limits her activity, she will find a way to visit Mrs. Stanley.”

Alexander nodded, remembering the determination he’d seen in Miss Hadford’s eyes when she’d suggested going to find Miss Brown’s son. “She would not shy away from a challenge.”

“No, she would not,” Lady Millward said. “And so I have no doubt that you shall hear from her very soon.” She looked thoughtful. “I believe I will give my brother and his family another week or two to settle into their new home, and then I shall pay them a visit.” Her expression remained serious but her faded blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “After all, I cannot continue pulling you out of ballrooms whenever I wish for information on the hunt for Miss Brown’s son. The Society biddies’ tongues would start wagging.”

“And that would never do,” he said, fighting a smile. “I am most grateful that you are so circumspect, Lady Millward.”

She chuckled. “Occasionally, my lord, occasionally.” And with a wave of her hand, she walked off the balcony and reentered the fray.

Chapter 9

“Whatever did you do to offend poor Lady Emma?” Lady Bloxley sailed into Alexander’s study the next morning in full battleship mode.

Alexander rose to his feet and braced himself for the onslaught. “Absolutely nothing.”

Lady Bloxley moved to within three feet of him and fixed him with a penetrating look. “The truth, Alexander. Everyone is talking of some terrible slight that occurred at the ball last night.”

“Then everyone is wrong,” he said. “Lady Emma was speaking with me when Lady Millward experienced a fainting spell. I was close by, and the viscountess asked that I escort her outside for some fresh air—which I did.”

“Leaving Lady Emma standing there alone?” his mother said, aghast.

“On the contrary. When she realized that I was duty bound to help the ailing older lady, Lady Emma took her leave of me.”

His mother frowned. “Nevertheless, that is the second time your actions have been construed as a slight, Alexander. Only two weeks ago, she complained of the same when you were late to our own musical evening.”

“Your musical evening,” he corrected. “And I have already explained why I was detained. I did not slight Lady Emma then, and I did not slight Lady Emma last night.”

“That is not what the gossip mongers are saying.”

“To be quite frank, Mother, I do not care what they say. I have no desire whatsoever to have my name linked with Lady Emma’s.”

“Be that as it may, gossip such as this can sully a gentleman’s reputation. You may have no wish to align yourself with Lady Emma, but you do need to make a positive impression upon someone within her same sphere.” She pointed a reproachful finger at him. “You need a wife, Alexander. And it is long past time that you focused on finding one.”

He should have known the conversation would turn to this. It had been a reoccurring theme over the last few years. Ever since his closest friend, Jonas Ainsworth, Viscount Langton’s, wedding, in fact. “You make it sound like hunting for a missing shoe.”