“No. My husband is quite impressed with Devruex’s stables and says he is becoming quite the star in the racing world.”
Instantly, the memory of a young Jack Devruex telling her of his dreams and plans for breeding thoroughbreds washed over her in a stinging wave. His eloquent enthusiasm had captured her young imagination and there had been a time when nothing seemed more exciting to her than helping him build his stable.
So he had achieved some of his goals, she thought with grudging admiration. Briefly, she wondered where he had gotten the capital to start his venture.
“Good evening again, Lady Fallbrook,” a voice reached her above the music and broke into her thoughts. Emma turned around and met a pair of smiling hazel eyes.
“Lord Darley!” she said warmly, glad she remembered his name after their brief introduction earlier.
“I confess that I have been trying to reach you for the last half an hour. I almost believed I was destined to chase you from one end of the ballroom to the other.”
Before she could stop it, surprised laughter escaped her lips as she met his admiring gaze.
“I certainly had no notion that I was being chased, but I will not apologize for unknowingly evading you in case you needed the exercise.” Emma thought him quite charming as well as handsome as he laughed at her rejoinder. “Are you acquainted with Lady Tunbridge, sir?”
At Emma’s question, Penelope sent Lord Darley a wide smile and answered for him. “Lud, yes. How are you, Darley? I spoke to your mother a while ago. She looks very well.”
“She is, thank you. I do not have to ask after your health, Lady Tunbridge, for you grow lovelier every time we meet.”
“You are such a charmer, sir.” Just then a woman in a flamboyant yellow gown approached and drew Penelope’s attention away.
Lord Darley grinned at Emma and made a sweeping gesture toward the dancers. “I noticed that you have not yet danced. May I have the honor of being the first to lead you onto the floor this evening?”
Her smile broadened and she owned that she felt flattered by the admiration so evident in his smiling eyes.
With Penelope in conversation with her friend, Darley led Emma to the other dancers. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to relax, but her nerves felt rather racked for she had only ever waltzed with her brother and uncle—and that had been during private family gatherings.
A moment later, as his warm hand rested upon her waist, it became apparent that she needn’t have been nervous, for Lord Darley proved to be an excellent dancer.
It felt wonderful to be whirled around the floor in time to beautiful, lilting music. And she found it even more gratifying that he also showed every evidence of enjoying himself. Charles had hated dancing. Instantly, she dismissed thoughts of her deceased husband, for she wanted nothing unpleasant to intrude upon this lovely evening.
Lord Darley skillfully led her around the floor and Emma relaxed even more, finding him extremely easy to follow. Oh, she had missed this! It had been too many years since she had experienced this heady feeling of dancing in the arms of a handsome, attentive man. This moment alone made the trip to London well worth it.
“Shall you be staying for the entire Season, Lady Fallbrook?”
“Yes. Even so, I don’t know how there will be enough time to attend all the parties and other entertainments that my grandmother has planned.”
“I shall have to pay the duchess my highest compliments for convincing you to spend the Season in Town.”
“And she will certainly take all the credit,” Emma said with wry humor as he swung her into a graceful turn.
“Lady Fallbrook, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a drive through Hyde Park tomorrow afternoon?”
A pang of disappointment brought a slight frown to her brow. “I’m sorry Lord Darley, but I am to spend tomorrow afternoon shopping with my grandmother.”
For a moment he looked crestfallen, and then said, “I shall be devastated if you say you are engaged the day after tomorrow.”
She felt charmed by his earnestness. “I am not, sir. I would enjoy driving in the park with you on Thursday.”
With the melodic strains of music and the excited chatter of the other guests swirling around them, Emma gazed into his eyes and came to a momentous decision.
Lord Darley certainly exhibited all the traits she was looking for in a gentleman. He possessed engaging, easy manners and had a wonderful sense of humor. He was an excellent dancer and her grandmother certainly found him acceptable. Yes, Lord Darley was certainly a gentleman worthy of being the first name on her list of potential lovers. Not that she intended to make any snap decisions this early in the Season, but he was certainly attractive enough to give further consideration.
A ripple of excitement raced over her skin at her own daring.
The music faded away and they came to a stop. Emma was the first to lower her gaze from the intensity of Lord Darley’s.
They remained silent as he began to lead her through the densely packed dance floor back to where Penelope now stood with Grandmère and a number of her friends, as well as Amelia and Roger.
The look of approval and pleasure so plainly evident on Grandmère’s countenance almost made Emma laugh. The old lady would be calling for the banns to be read after one waltz, Emma thought with rueful amusement.
She moved to stand next to Grandmère, then turned back to Lord Darley. “Thank you, sir, for a lovely dance.”
“The pleasure is mine, my lady.” With another lingering look, Lord Darley bowed and left.
Just as Emma turned to tease her grandmother over her too pleased expression, their hostess caught her attention. Although some distance away she was looking directly at Emma.
The plump lady—dyed orange egret feathers quivering atop her head—moved gracefully, yet swiftly, through the crowd with a pleased smile gracing her features.
As Lady Colhurst drew near, Emma noticed the man at her side. She was startled to see that it was Lord Monteford.
“La, Emmaline, it appears Monteford desires to judge for himself if what the actor said last night about your charms is true,” Penelope whispered to her from behind her fan.
Their hostess and Lord Monteford were now so close that Emma dared not risk replying to Penelope.
“My dear Lady Fallbrook,” Lady Colhurst said without preamble, “what a delightful picture you made waltzing with Lord Darley. I trust you will delight us by taking the floor again.” This last bit was said with a bright sideways smile to the gentleman at her side. “Now then, I do not believe you know Lord Monteford.”
Keenly aware of her grandmother’s and her friends’ interested attention, Emma composed her features into a faint smile and said, “No, Lady Colhurst, I have not had the pleasure of meeting Lord Monteford. Good evening, sir.”
Inclining her head toward him, she watched his smile disappear and his brows furrow ever so slightly. For an instant she feared that her tone had been a bit too frosty, and then decided she did not care. By the avid stares from a number of the other guests, it was clear that most of them had heard about the scene at the theatre last night. Well, she was in no humor to provide more gossip for the scandal-mongering appetite of the ton.
She held his gaze steadily for a moment and was suddenly struck by the unusual color of his eyes. Last night, in the indifferent light of the theatre, she would not have suspected their startling beauty. They were a dark, flawless blue, like a perfect sapphire.
He held his chin high before he made a bow to Grandmère and the rest of the group. It looked as if he was about to speak when Grandmère snapped her fan open and said, “So how is your mother, young man? Last time I called upon her, I was distressed to see that she had taken to her hartshorn for some inexplicable reason.”
Emma bit her lip to hide her amusement. How like her grandmother to make a not so subtle reference to the common knowledge that Monteford’s mama was distraught over his scandalous behavior with his mistress.
>
By Lord Monteford’s calm expression, it appeared he was completely unperturbed by the dowager’s jibe. “Thank you for your concern, Duchess. My mother has always been fragile, but she never misses her Tuesday evening whist party, which I believe you attend as well, ma’am?”
Grandmère sent him a brittle smile. “I do indeed. We always enjoy the liveliest conversation.” Again, there seemed to be another level of meaning to the old lady’s words.
Lord Monteford’s lips compressed, but he obviously thought better of sparring any more with the dowager Duchess of Kelbourne.
“Lady Fallbrook, Lady Colhurst informs me that the next set will be a quadrille. I would be honored if you would dance with me.”
The quadrille! That elegant dance had always been a particular favorite of Emma’s. Something about moving in harmonious synchronicity with the other dancers, weaving the figures in graceful time with the music, had always had an almost mesmerizing effect upon her senses. As a girl, when she had first learned the complicated steps, she had fancied that if the dancers carried long ribbons, by the end of the dance they would all be entwined in an intricate braid.
“I would be delighted, Lord Monteford.”
He offered his arm and she placed her fingers on his forearm, then sent a smile to her grandmother. The old lady did not look as pleased as she had when Emma had taken the floor with Lord Darley.
Doing her best to ignore the stares from the other guests, Emma moved to stand opposite Lord Monteford and waited for the other dancers to take their places.
Glancing around the room, she noticed Penelope joining another set with her husband. Evidently, Lord Tunbridge decided to leave the billiard room after all, she thought with a smile. She continued to watch as Penelope leaned toward her husband and pointed to Emma. The earl turned with a broad smile and sent Emma a jaunty salute just as the music started. She smiled back at her friend’s handsome husband, glad that there were a few familiar faces among the hundreds crowding the ballroom.
She and Lord Monteford danced in silence for a few measures, and Emma noticed that although the quadrille was a completely different kind of dance compared to the waltz, he did not possess Lord Darley’s easy grace. Oh, he performed the steps well enough, but his manner was a little too studied to be truly pleasing, Emma decided.
She hoped he was not the kind of gentleman who talked through the whole dance. For the quadrille in particular she preferred little or no conversation. Jack had always remained silent when they had danced together. She recalled the way his intense dark eyes held hers as they formed the figures. It had been dizzyingly romantic to gaze into his eyes as the room swirled around them.
With a jolt of shock, she realized that she was actually remembering something about Jack Devruex with fondness. Forcing her disturbing thoughts back to the present, she sent Lord Monteford a bright smile.
“Did you enjoy the play last night, Lady Fallbrook?” he asked in a silky voice.
For an instant, she lost the rhythm of the music and made the chasse a second too slow. She studied his haughty features for a moment, wondering what he was about. She certainly did not intend to comment on the impudent actor’s bizarre departure from the play. “I thought the performances rather amateurish.” She kept her tone deliberately light.
Monteford crossed in front of her, making conversation impossible for a few measures. When they met again in the center, he wore a slight smile. “Is that all, Lady Fallbrook? There were a few moments when I would have sworn that you were enjoying yourself.”
He was an intriguing man, she thought as they made the demi-prominade. If he intended to impress her, making veiled references to his public appearance with his mistress was not the way to go about it. “The evening held a few diversions,” she said.
Not that she cared about Lord Monteford’s behavior, but even her departed husband, a man with a complete want of sensitivity, had taken pains to be discreet about his affairs.
Passing behind Lord Monteford, she concentrated on the steps for a few moments. Again they met in the middle, clasped hands, and spun around in place. He looked deeply into her eyes and she found something compelling in their unexpectedly beautiful depths.
“You are an astoundingly fine-looking woman,” he murmured softly, “and I have every intention of furthering our acquaintance.”
As he released her, Emma’s brows shot up. His tone was so confident, so definite, that she could not resist the immediate desire to take the wind out of his sails. Besides, she was not a woman to tolerate being flirted with by a man who flaunted his mistress without a hint of shame.
Sending him a dry look, she said, “Gracious me, Lord Monteford, I would not have thought that you would have the time.”
He watched her for a moment, his gaze sharp and assessing. “I have time for all the things that interest me.”
Emma decided that notwithstanding his exceedingly pretty eyes and impressive address, she would not be adding the viscount to her list of potential paramours. Being among the “things that interest him” held no attraction for her.
The set ended a moment later and Lord Monteford led her back to her grandmother. Spreading open her fan, Emma turned to him with a cool smile. “Thank you for a most pleasant interlude, sir.”
His fair brows rose and Emma could see his barely concealed displeasure. Evidently Lord Monteford was unused to being dismissed. He briefly bowed over her hand, and as he straightened, he looked into her eyes with unconcealed annoyance and confusion. Without a word, he turned and melded into the crowd.
With a dismissive shrug, Emma watched Lord Monteford’s retreating back before turning to her grandmother and friends. Grandmère gazed at her with an expression of pride and pleasure.
“Considering the attention you are receiving, you comport yourself exceedingly well, m’dear,” Grandmère murmured in a tone the others could not hear. “No one would suspect that you have spent the last decade rusticating. Well done, my dear. You are certainly my granddaughter,” she murmured on a note of pride.
“You no longer think I am so provincial?” Emma sent her a rueful smile.
“Certain instincts may have gotten rusty, but you never forget. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Actually, I am,” Emma replied. And she meant it.
But Grandmère’s point was not lost upon her. Emma could not help but be keenly aware of the interested stares and whispers directed toward her. She found it rather disconcerting and was grateful for the company of her friends to give her confidence a bit of a boost. She had forgotten how exhausting Society could be.
“I say, look who just walked in. Lady Colhurst is going to be utterly puffed up with pride,” Amelia Spence-Jones, standing on the other side of Grandmère, announced.
At the amusement lacing her friend’s voice, Emma glanced around, curious as to what elicited the comment. As if drawn by some unseen power, her gaze instantly went to the other side of the room to where a tall man with black hair and broad shoulders was about to descend the curving staircase.
Feeling the air seem to freeze in her lungs, Emma stared. He paused on the landing, his legs braced slightly apart, surveying the scene below.
Jack, Baron Devruex, had just entered the ballroom.
Chapter Four
Upon entering Colhurst House, Jack asked himself for the hundredth time why he had decided to subject himself to what would no doubt be an utterly dull evening. The thought of spending hours dancing with inquisitive matrons and giggling misses almost made him turn on his heel and head to the nearest alehouse. Yet here he was.
Handing his hat and walking stick to a footman, he made his way through the densely packed reception rooms toward the ballroom. To give Lady Colhurst her due, she did go to extravagant lengths to provide her male guests commodious accommodations for cards and billiards. But a pleasant card room had never been enough inducement to bring him to this kind of crush. Yet here he was, he thought again.
There was no point in ly
ing to himself, he thought with grim amusement. He had come to have a look at Lady Fallbrook. At the top of the staircase, the bewigged major domo bowed and stepped forward to announce him to the assemblage.
Jack raised his hand in a brief motion and the major domo instantly halted his movement and sent the baron a look of questioning surprise.
“No need to announce me, good man. Everyone will know I am here soon enough.”
At this unprecedented departure from protocol, a grin flashed across the servant’s features before he bowed again, saying placidly, “Very good, milord.”
As Jack descended the staircase, his gaze swept the crowd. Not surprisingly, the cream of the beau monde was in attendance. Everyone knew that Lady Colhurst was a notorious stickler when it came to her guest list. Only the most unblemished reputations made it through her door, making her invitation all the more coveted.
Jack knew well enough that the only reason he was welcomed into this hallowed room was that Lady Colhurst had been one of his mother’s dearest friends. In her memory, Lady Colhurst graciously ignored his reputation and sent him invitations to every party she hosted during the Season. He had long suspected that the good lady believed that she could reform him with her motherly concern. So far, her efforts had not produced satisfactory results.
In the guise of looking for his hostess, he continued scanning the assemblage, wondering if he would recognize Emma after thirteen years. He saw any number of friends and acquaintances, but was caught up short when he saw Monteford standing by a set of French doors with a group of dandies. Jack was surprised to see him, for he knew the viscount found this kind of affair even more objectionable than he did.
Of course, he mused cynically, it did not surprise him that Monteford had received an invitation from the fastidious Lady Colhurst. Despite the fact that Monteford’s reputation was as derelict as Devruex’s, Monteford enjoyed the benefit of being shielded from public censure by the power and prestige of his grandfather, the Earl of Pellerton.
A moment later he mentally dismissed his friend, deciding to speak to him later. Right now his sole focus was on locating Lady Fallbrook.
Lady Emma's Dilemma (9781101573662) Page 5