“Lord Willington?” Lady Merrill’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“I do beg your pardon. I was, er, checking on my grandmother. Just making sure she was all right. What did you say, my lady?” he said, redirecting his attention to her.
“Oh! Lady Willington is just fine,” the lady said, putting a comforting hand on his arm. “She’s right over there. I was speaking to her just a little while ago. It’s so hard to believe she is still as energetic as ever.” The woman chuckled.
Gabriel forced his lips up into a smile. “Yes, indeed. She quite wears me out at times,” he said politely. How was he going to get out of this? His grandmother, unfortunately, was perfectly fine and speaking with some friends on the other side of the drawing room. But Lady Emilie was still outside on the balcony with Brice. Where was Lady Tremelling? Surely the woman should be keeping a closer eye on her daughter. Or Lord Tremelling. Was he even here?
Gabriel’s stomach tightened into a knot at the thought of Lady Emilie, Emilie, out there all alone with that rake. Who knew what he might be trying to do! He was ready to stop being polite and simply run out there and put his fist right into Brice’s face, preferably his nose, preferably hard enough to break the damned perfect appendage so badly the man would never be able to attract another innocent young woman into such a situation ever again.
And then Gabriel realized what an idiot he was being. This was none of his business. Lady Emilie was none of his business. She wasn’t his. He had absolutely no claim on her whatsoever—hadn’t her brother informed him of this again and again as he’d smashed his fist into Gabriel’s face when they’d arrived back at school after that fateful Easter holiday?
Gabriel could still remember it as clear as day. That, along with looks of disgust from all the friends he’d shared with Tremelling. Once their friends had returned to school, Evan had informed them that Gabriel had tried to take liberties with Lady Emilie but he’d been stopped just in time—the little bending of the truth was to keep Emilie’s reputation intact. Gabriel had been intelligent enough, even then, not to correct him. Gabriel sighed. Hadn’t he learned his lesson then? Surely, he had.
His heart leapt into his throat as he saw Lady Emilie come back through the door from the balcony—without Lord Brice. That was odd. He also caught the words of the woman standing directly in front of him. “… clearly not interested in speaking with us,” Lady Merrill said, turning on her heel and walking away from him, dragging her daughter with her.
Oh, goodness. He’d been completely ignoring the woman, hadn’t he? He groaned inwardly. He’d been extremely rude, but he just couldn’t help it. Nor could he help noticing right at this moment the anger on Lady Emilie’s face. What had that randy lecher done to her? And where was he? Was there a reason he hadn’t escorted her back into the ballroom?
Gabriel’s curiosity won out, and he made his way behind other couples to be sure Lady Emilie didn’t see him heading for the French doors and then slipped outside. He first looked left, but the balcony was empty, then he glanced to his right. There, in the pale light from the drawing room, Brice was standing, bent at the waist, his hands on his knees.
Gabriel walked over. “All right, there, Brice?” he asked, as blandly as he could.
“That little… girl kneed me in the…” Brice ground out.
A laugh bubbled up inside of Gabriel. She had kneed him in the groin? “Well done, Lady Emilie!” The words spilled from his lips before he could catch them.
Brice glared up at him. “You think this is funny?”
“I think you got what you deserved.” He paused and then considered the man. “Actually,” he added, “you should consider yourself lucky that you are currently incapacitated because otherwise my fist would be becoming much better acquainted with your nose just about now.”
Brice straightened himself as best as he could. “What do you mean?”
“Let me put it into plain English. If you weren’t obviously in pain, I would be planting you a facer,” Gabriel explained slowly and deliberately.
“For what?” the man protested.
“For whatever you did to Lady Emilie that caused her to have to defend herself.”
“All I did was—” The man wisely stopped speaking. His eyes darted around Gabriel’s face and no doubt he could tell whatever he had been about to say would not be taken well. Brice swallowed. “It, er, doesn’t matter,” he said softly.
“The only thing which matters at this moment is that you will be paying Lady Emilie a visit tomorrow to apologize for your behavior,” Gabriel told him. “Unless you do wish to have that pretty nose of yours altered?”
Brice shook his head briefly.
“Excellent. I’m so glad we understand each other. Have a good evening.” Gabriel turned and started to walk away. “Oh, and once your apology has been accepted, you will never bother the young lady ever again. Is that understood?”
Brice sighed. “You can be sure I won’t. I happen to prefer being, er, in good working order.”
Gabriel nodded and continued back into the drawing room with a little chuckle.
He caught a glimpse of Lady Emilie. She was standing back against the wall with Miss Merrill, right where she should be. His heart gave a funny little leap when he saw her standing there. She was fine, clearly unharmed by her little escapade with Brice. He was impressed, but he supposed he shouldn’t be. She was a remarkable woman.
But she was not for him, he reminded himself. He should not even be approaching her as he was. He was to marry someone with whom he would share no affection. He must.
He forced himself to turn away from Lady Emilie, annoyed with himself for so quickly forgetting his own decision. He would do better. He had to. He couldn’t afford to allow his passions free rein once again.
Emilie looked around the room for Lord Willington as she made her way back to Miss Merrill by the wall. Her chest was still heaving in fury at that lout, Lord Brice. She hadn’t exactly expected Lord Willington to come to her rescue, and she hadn’t needed him to do so—she was perfectly capable of defending her own honor thanks to a short but effective lesson from her brother the summer after that fateful Easter holiday. But still, it might have been nice if he’d even noticed she’d been gone from the ballroom.
But no, what was she thinking? Lord Willington was probably off charming some other innocent into thinking she was worth his time. Emilie knew better. No one was worth his time. No one was more important than himself. The only person who he truly doted upon, truly looked after was his grandmother. She did have to acknowledge that—Lord Willington loved his grandmother and took excellent care of the lady.
Emilie searched around the room for Lady Willington and found her sitting in a chair like a queen, surrounded by admirers and friends. But her grandson was nowhere to be seen. What had happened to the man? Oh well, she shouldn’t be thinking of him anyway, although she was as determined as ever to see her plan through.
“Who are you looking about for?” Miss Merrill’s voice cut into Emilie’s thoughts.
“Hmm? Oh, no one. Did you enjoy your dance with Lord Willington?” she asked her friend.
“Oh, yes. He’s a very good dancer. Although, he was rather distracted by you dancing just behind me.”
“Oh! I didn’t even notice,” Emilie said, lying through her teeth.
“Who was it you were dancing with?” Miss Merrill asked with a little smile that told Emilie she knew a lie when she heard one.
“Lord Brice. And I advise you very strongly to stay away from the man. I agreed to dance with him because he’s a friend of Lord Willington’s. I assumed that he was a gentleman. I thought that anyone who was a friend of Lord Willington’s would be a safe, upstanding—I never thought Lord Willington would introduce me to someone who wasn’t.
"He… he wasn’t a gentleman?” Miss Merrill asked, worry pulling the pitch of her voice higher.
“He took me onto the balcony after our dance for some air and attempted some inappropriate behavior. I put a stop to it, but I wouldn’t want to give him a second chance.”
“Oh, no! I am so sorry.” Miss Merrill’s voice held true concern.
“Thank you.”
“I’m certain your warning won’t be necessary as I’ve never even met the man, but if I am introduced to him, I shall be polite and nothing else.”
Emilie nodded and then noticed Lord Willington coming toward her. The man looked disgusted as if he’d just seen something grotesque. But he was looking straight at her!
Had she done something? Was her dress askew? Her hair falling down? Surely, Miss Merrill would have said something if that were the case.
She was just about to turn toward her friend to ask when Lord Willington suddenly stopped and changed directions. Where was he going? Was he not going to come and speak with her? Well, she supposed, with that expression on his face, she probably didn’t want him to. If only she knew what she had done.
A horrible thought occurred to her. Had he seen her go out on the balcony with Lord Brice? Was that why he was angry? She might have just destroyed her entire plan before it even fully began. She needed to be in his good graces in order to make him fall in love with her and it now looked as if she was most certainly not. Oh, what had she done?
“You are looking very peaked this morning, Emilie,” Lady Tremelling said as she sat down at the breakfast table the following morning.
Emilie put down her teacup, which she’d been about to take a sip from. “I’m afraid I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Is there anything bothering you, Sister?” Evan asked from the head of the table, peering over his newspaper.
“No, not really… I mean… I don’t know why but Lord Willington looked rather annoyed with me last evening,” she admitted. In fact, the look on the man’s face as he’d turned away from her had haunted her all night long—that, and her plans to get her revenge. She still wasn’t one hundred percent certain the plan was a good idea. She understood what her sister had told her about deserving respect, but she didn’t know how to make a man fall in love with her. She didn’t know if she would have the strength of will to turn him down if he professed his love. No, she had not slept well at all.
“I noticed you danced with him. Could you, perhaps, have said something to annoy him?” her mother asked, looking concerned.
“I don’t think so. He seemed quite happy when he took me back to Miss Merrill. He even asked her to dance with him afterward,” Emilie said.
“Did you speak with him after? When he returned after that dance?” her mother prodded.
“No. Actually, I wasn’t there. I had been dancing with Lord Brice, and he took me out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air.” No need to tell her mother and brother that he had attempted to stop her from getting the breath by trying to plant his lips on top of her own.
“Perhaps that’s why,” Evan commented from behind his paper. He lowered a corner to look at her. His eyebrows were drawn down in the most menacing way. “You really shouldn’t go alone onto a balcony with a gentleman. You know this.”
“I do. He was introduced to me as a friend of Lord Willington’s.” She tried to think of a nice way of saying this so as not to worry her family. “I was mistaken in the gentleman’s character.”
Evan frowned at her. “Brice?” His eyes drifted away, but finally he came back to her with a shake of his head. “I have to admit, I don’t know the fellow. He didn’t misbehave in any way, did he?” The words came out low and menacing.
"Don’t worry, dear Brother, thanks to you I am quite capable of defending myself should the need arise,” she said, giving him a little smile. She wouldn’t mention it had, and she had. He didn’t need to know that.
He just nodded and went back to his paper.
“Well, we can only hope, in that case, Lord Willington comes to call this afternoon. You can then have a chat with him, although you’ll have to be careful not to disparage his friend. Maybe you can give him a gentle hint. I’m certain he will have a word with Lord Brice if necessary,” her mother suggested. “It couldn’t be because you danced with the gentleman that he’s angry, could it?”
“I doubt very much that he is jealous if that’s what you are hinting at, Mother. But should he call, I will try to discover what is bothering him. I’m sure it’s something completely unrelated to me,” she said with a great deal more certainty than she felt.
It turned out Emilie never had to make such a decision as to where to walk with Lord Willington because he never showed up. It was nearly four, and Emilie was about to go up to her room to lay down for a rest before the events of the evening when Lord Brice was announced, however.
She shared a brief look of surprise with her mother that the gentleman would call so late. “What a… a surprise, my lord,” Emilie said, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious that she’d left out the word “pleasant.”
He paused to bow just inside the door. “My lady. Lady Emilie, I do hope you will forgive my intrusion into your afternoon.”
“Of course. Please, do come and sit down,” Emilie said, deliberately moving to a chair rather than the sofa where she’d been sitting when he’d come in. She didn’t want to even give him the option of sitting directly next to her.
“I shall order a fresh pot of tea,” Lady Tremelling said, moving to the door to call to a footman rather than simply ringing the bell.
Emilie wondered why her mother was giving them a moment of privacy, and she wasn’t thrilled with it. At least she hadn’t left the room altogether. She was still standing by the door having a word with the footman but looking back at Emilie every so often.
“Lady Emilie,” Lord Brice said quietly so only she could hear. “I actually came to apologize for my atrocious behavior last night.”
“Oh!” Now that was unexpected.
“Yes. I’m afraid I’m simply not used to… er… the company of innocent, young ladies such as yourself,” he admitted. “I usually limit my attentions to, er, more worldly ladies.”
“I see,” she said, although she wasn’t entirely certain she did. Did having more experience in the world mean these ladies welcomed his advances? Surely, if they were widowed, they might, but if they were married? She gave herself a mental shake. It was none of her business.
“Yes, so…” he glanced up and Emilie did as well as her mother rejoined them. “It was such a pleasure to dance with you last evening, I just felt the need to come and pay my respects,” he said, increasing the volume of his voice.
“Er… yes. I appreciate that, my lord.”
“Do you attend Lady Morton’s soiree this evening, my lord?” Lady Tremelling asked.
“No, I’m afraid I have another engagement,” he said, giving her a polite smile.
He stayed for the requisite quarter of an hour and then made a hasty exit just as Eliza breezed into the room with little Georgie on her hip.
Emilie’s mother jumped to her feet to take the little girl, all smiles and giggles. “You brought me a present!” Lady Tremelling exclaimed. “Oh, come here, my sweet.” She took the little girl into her arms and gave her a squeeze and a kiss, receiving a very wet sounding one in return.
Emilie and Eliza just laughed and left their mother to dote on her granddaughter.