Prologue
“Ah, the beautiful Lady Emma.” Emma’s heart skipped a little as the Earl of Thornbridge approached. He bowed, and then thereafter extended his hand towards her. “It is our dance, is it not?”
“You are quite correct, Lord Thornbridge.”
Her hand went to his arm and a thrill of excitement ran from her fingers directly to her heart.
Lord Thornbridge was one of the most eligible gentlemen of both this Season and the last. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and with a set of fine features the attention of which every young lady in all of England wished to possess for herself. Having been introduced in the little Season, when the weather had been wet and wild, Emma had found herself with a growing eagerness for Lord Thornbridge’s company – which continued now in the Spring Season. It was a wonder to her that he was not yet betrothed, but perhaps he was not a gentleman eager to rush into matrimony. After all, he could have any young lady that he wished on his arm, but, as yet, he had never given his particular attentions to any one young lady – even going so far as to never dance with the same young lady twice in an evening.
And yet I hope that I might be the one with whom he does so.Stepping out with him to the dance floor, Emma became slowly aware of the many eyes which were fixed upon her. Some, such as Lord and Lady Stanbury – her mother and father – would be very pleased to watch their daughter dance with such a fellow. Others, however, might struggle with envy while still others might watch her with narrowed eyes, willing her to stumble or embarrass herself in some other way. Reminding herself only to concentrate on the steps of the dance and not what others thought of her, Emma lifted her chin slightly and smiled.
“Might I say that you look very lovely indeed this evening, Lady Emma.”
“You are very kind, Lord Thornbridge,” she replied, her heart beating a little more quickly. “You are, of course, quite handsome also.”
Smiling at him, Emma ignored the frantic beating of her heart. She was not special, nor singled out simply because he had said such things to her. Whoever he danced with next would, no doubt, receive the same compliments as she.
The dance began. Emma took every step with care and precision, whilst maintaining a pleasant expression, with her lips curved into a delicate smile. Lord Thornbridge did not make much conversation, but instead simply danced with her, continuing to watch her. To her eyes, his expression was a little thoughtful, as if he were uncertain over some, as yet unspoken, matter.
“You are enjoying the Season thus far, my Lord?” Emma asked quickly, thinking that she ought to make some attempt at conversation. It was expected, of course, but he did not appear to have any eagerness for speaking with her. Perhaps he was a gentleman of few words, she considered, for as yet she did not know his character very well at all.
“I always enjoy the Seasons,” he told her with a smile. “That is why you will find me here in London during the drabbest and wettest months of the year also, for I am very much drawn towards good company – and the Season offers plenty of that!”
Smiling quietly, she nodded and then turned away as the dance required. For a moment, she wondered what Lord Thornbridge’s character was like. She was unaware of any whispers about him being a rogue or some such dreadful thing. But then again, he might hide a great many things from the prying eyes of society. When he spoke of enjoying good company, was it particular ladies that he considered? Particular interactions? Or was it merely that he delighted in speaking with old acquaintances and making new ones?
“And what of you, Lady Emma?” Lord Thornbridge’s eyes glinted with interest as he smiled back at her. “I would presume that a young lady such as yourself would always enjoy the London Season. Might I be mistaken in that assumption?”
She shook her head.
“No, Lord Thornbridge. You are correct to state such a thing, although this is, however, my second Season. And in that regard, I find my parents a little less lackadaisical than they were last Season!”
For whatever reason, this made him chuckle, and Emma found herself smiling back at him, a little relieved that something she had said had brought a touch of mirth.
“That is something which I believe that most gentlemen shall never understand: the pressures on a young lady of theton,who is required to make a suitable match – and sometimes with a great deal of haste, I might add!”
“I count myself grateful to not be in any such state of eagerness,” she answered quickly, not wishing him to think that she was required to marry in haste for any reason. “What I mean to say is that last Season, I was very much able to enjoy every moment without thinking about what was required of me. Now, however, my parents are a little more inclined towards reminding me of what is expected!” Daring to be bold, she took in a breath. “I fear you may have bolstered their hopes a little, Lord Thornbridge, in stepping out to dance with me.”
The music came to a close before Lord Thornbridge had the opportunity to form a reply, and Emma found herself almost grateful that he had not been required to do so. She dropped into a perfect curtsey as he bowed, relieved to be at the end of their dance. It had been a rather anxious few minutes, for she had been continually aware of the consequences of putting a foot in the wrong place or saying something foolish due to her nervousness. Any slip would have been noted, not just by Lord Thornbridge, but by those watching her. Now, however, as she rose from her curtsey, Emma could take in long breaths of relief. It had all gone very well.
“Wait a moment, Lady Emma. I have a thought.”
To her astonishment. Lord Thornbridge did not offer her his arm, nor lead her from the floor. Instead, he took a small step closer to her, his eyes suddenly alive.
“I… I am afraid I do not know what you mean.”
Lord Thornbridge grinned at her.
“Shall we bolster your mother and father’s hopes a little more, Lady Emma?” he asked, tilting his head just a little. “I know this may well be a foolish thing to ask, but is there, by any chance, one dance remaining on your dance card, so that I might have the honor of standing up with you again?”
A flash of liquid heat ran from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes as she looked up at him for some moments, before then fumbling for her dance card. Handing it to him, the heat was then replaced with a great chill as Emma realized that everyone near her would be aware of what she was doing. They would see that she was giving her dance card to Lord Thornbridge again before they had even stepped to the side of the room! What would they think?
Turning her head slightly, Emma caught sight of her parents, noting the way that her mother had clapped both hands to her mouth. But there was no distress in her eyes, for there was a joyous delight that transformed her expression. Emma’s own heart was tumbling freely, all too aware of the attention she was garnering.
“You have the waltz free, Lady Emma. Have you permission to dance it?”
Thus far, Emma had not been granted permission to dance the waltz, but having glanced at her mother’s expression, she had no doubt that both her mother and father would be very glad indeed for her to do so, particularly if it was with Lord Thornbridge.
“For you, Lord Thornbridge, I will be permitted to do so.”
