“I don’t think I can.”

“Please.”

Alex was amazed at how a single soft word from Emma’s lips could make him feel like such a cad. Nonetheless, he felt that after her soul-bearing speech, she deserved nothing less than complete honesty from him in return. “I don’t think you understand how much I want you.”

Emma immediately went still. “The waltz is over, your grace.”

“So it is.”

She extricated herself from his arms. “Good-bye, your grace.”

“Until tomorrow, Emma.”

“I don’t think so.” With that, she slipped away from him, deftly darting through the crowds until she reached her aunt.

Alex was still as he watched her move through the ballroom, her bright hair gleaming under the flickering candlelight. Her stark honesty had both unnerved him and intensified his desire for her. He didn’t quite understand what he felt for her, and this lack of control over his emotions left him completely irritated with himself. With a quick step, he turned decisively away from the young fops and eager mamas who seemed intent on engaging him in conversation. Thankfully, he quickly located Dunford, who was standing at the edge of the ballroom watching him. “Let’s get out of here,” he said grimly to his friend. Damn it, she’d simply have to accept that he just couldn’t leave her alone.

Chapter 7

“I am so glad you decided to let me go with you, Emma,” Belle said excitedly.

“I have a feeling I’m going to live to regret it,” Emma responded. She and her cousin were sitting in the Blydons well-sprung carriage on their way to return the earrings that Sophie had pressed into Emma’s hands the day before.

“Nonsense,” Belle said offhandedly. “Besides, you might need me. What if you don’t know what to say?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something appropriate.”

“What if Sophie doesn’t know what to say?”

“Now, that’s unlikely.” Emma said wryly. She glanced down at the diamond and emerald earrings in her gloved hand. “Too bad,” she said with a slight grimace.

“What?”

“These are awfully nice earrings.”

The carriage came to a halt in front of Sophie’s elegant townhouse. The two young women alighted and quickly ascended the stone steps leading to the front door. Emma gave the door a decisive knock. It was opened within seconds, and Emma was treated to the sight of Sophie’s comically thin, excruciatingly imperious butler. It has often been noted that butlers are far more discerning than their employers, and Graves was certainly no exception. No one would enter the Earl and Countess of Wilding’s home until he deemed them suitable. He stared down at Emma and Belle, black eyes sharp, and said simply, “Yes?”

Belle offered the man her calling card. “Is Lady Wilding receiving?” she inquired sharply, matching the butler’s supercilious stare.

“Perhaps.”

Emma nearly laughed as she watched her cousin’s jaw clench. Belle plodded on. “Would you please tell her that Lady Arabella Blydon is here to see her?”

Graves’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Unless my eyesight fails me, which, incidentally, it never does, there appear to be two people on the doorstep.”

Belle’s chin rose slightly as she ground out, “This is my cousin, Miss Emma Dunster.”

“Of course,” Graves said accommodatingly. “Allow me to show you to the yellow parlor.” He ushered them into one of Sophie’s sitting rooms, his feet moving silently across the Aubusson carpet.

“Good Lord,” Belle muttered as soon as the butler was out of earshot. “I’m sure I’ve been here at least thirty times, and I still get grilled on the doorstep.”

“He’s obviously very devoted to his employers. You should probably try to hire him yourself,” Emma laughed.

“Are you joking? I’d probably have to get references just to get into my own home.”

“Belle, darling!” shrilled Sophie, sailing into the room in a lovely bottle green morning dress that complimented her eyes. She seemed not to notice Emma standing quietly in the corner as she rushed to kiss Belle on the cheek. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it to your fete. I heard it was spectacular.”

“Yes, it was,” Belle demurred.

“My brother even went,” Sophie said incredulously. “That’s a first. Now where is your lovely cousin I’ve been hearing so much about?”

“She’s right behind you.”

Sophie whirled around. “I am so pleased to—oh, my God.”

Emma smiled sheepishly. “I imagine you’re a little surprised.”

Sophie opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again to say, “Oh, my God.”

“Well, perhaps you’re a lot surprised,” Emma amended.

“Oh, my God.”

Belle moved to Emma’s side. “I didn’t think it was possible,” she whispered, “but Sophie really doesn’t know what to say.”

“This is where you were supposed to jump in and smooth things over,” Emma reminded her.

“I certainly don’t know what to say.” Belle grinned.

Sophie took a step forward. “But—you—yesterday—”

Emma took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I had borrowed my maid’s frock yesterday.”

“Whatever for?” Sophie was slowly regaining the use of her rather extensive vocal prowess.

“That’s actually something of a long story.”