“We can be quite a handful. You should be wary of us!” Lord Tattershall said, making his voice deep, as if they were the spookiest thing Aaron could ever find.
“On the contrary, I enjoyed myself more than I can say. My family does not do such things.”
“What do you mean?” Lady Emily asked as she passed him a fresh glass of punch.
“Well, they are not so high spirited for a start.” He struggled to explain any more. In truth, the more he looked at the family that surrounded Lady Emily, he found envy growing within him. It was the pleasant kind, wishing he could be a part of such a happy group.
“You may have to put up with our high spirits a little more yet,” Lord Bolton said as he passed a glass of wine to his wife. “Are you coming to Sir Harold Jacobs’ dinner part this Friday? I hear most families here are to attend.”
Aaron opened his lips to say no. The only reason he had agreed to attend this event was to keep his mother happy. He had previously decided he would not attend the dinner party, and that was that, but as his eyes fell on Lady Emily, he found a different answer falling from his lips.
“Yes. I will be there.”
Why on earth did I say that?
Chapter Four
“What a mess indeed,” Charity exclaimed as she hurried past Emily in the hall. “I’m thrilled the ball was a success last night, but I quite forgot how much mess these events can make.”
Emily followed her mother, aware that Charity was looking so much at the flowers she had taken down in her hands, she was not paying attention to where she was putting her feet.
“Mama, watch out!” Emily called, just stopping Charity from walking into a poor maid who was trying to urge the fire in the hallway fire into life.
“Oops! Sorry, dear,” Charity said hurriedly to the maid. “Thank you, Emily!” she called back as she hurried out of the room. Emily offered an apologetic smile to the maid before she gazed around the room.
It was true that the clean-up from the ball was difficult, with even the marble floor beneath her feet betraying muddy footprints from their guests’ shoes. Emily bent down to pick up a few discarded dance cards that must have been dropped and deposited them on a side table, trying to be of some use to the maids, when above the side table, something caught her eye.
It was her own reflection in the mirror. So little did she look at her reflection that she startled herself as she looked up into it.
Chewing her lip, she observed the auburn curls that had refused to be tamed that morning, trying their best to escape their updo. She thought her cheeks were a little chubby and she prodded them with her fingers for a minute before letting her fingers fall at her side.
Why did the Marquess dance with me last night?
The thought cut through sharply, making her gaze at her reflection a little longer. She could not quite understand it. She had felt terribly sorry for him when hearing the tale of how Miss Drew had chosen his brother over him. After that, she would not have been surprised to find the man keeping to himself for much of the night, yet he did not. He stayed by her side and with her family.
“I am sure he could have found better company,” she whispered into the mirror, as though her reflection could offer a reasoned answer to her wonderings. A handsome man like him, destined to be Duke someday, must have had no shortage of dance offers, yet he had not danced again. Emily was the only dance he had.
There was a gentle tap on the front door, urging Emily to turn her head and walk toward it, leaving the reflection behind her. As she advanced toward it, the butler bustled forward, pulling the door open wide.
For one minute, Emily thought a magnificent bunch of flowers had somehow managed to climb the stairs and knock on the door all by itself, perhaps using one of the flower heads to do the job. For the bouquet was so large, it was almost impossible to see the man carrying it until he stepped forward, revealing thin lanky legs that moved into the entrance hall, shooting out the bottom of the bouquet.
“Oh my, what is this?” a familiar voice cried. Emily turned round to see Julia had emerged from the breakfast room, staring at the bouquet with equal wonder. “That is not a cheap bunch of flowers.”
“How expensive do you think?” Emily asked as the deliverer placed the flowers on the hall table Emily had been stood by a minute before.
“Pricey,” Julia whispered to her in a hiss. “Someone must wish to pay a big compliment indeed.”
“Are we talking the price of a book? Or mortgaging a house to afford them?” Emily asked with a smile, earning a playful tap around the arm from Julia.
“Somewhere in the middle.”
“A card came with it, my ladies.” The young man nodded his head and placed the card down on the table before he hurried off out the door. The moment the door was closed, Julia and Emily jumped toward the table, each one eagerly trying to be the first to get the card. Emily snatched it up first, but only because she managed to bump Julia out of the way.
“Oh, you are too quick!”
“You mean I am bigger than you and able to knock you out the way.”
“For the last time,” Julia said with a huff, placing her hands on her hips. “You are not big.”
