Page 96 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“Drew invited…thetwoof us to spend the holidays here at the castle,” Heath added.

Norland’s dark eyes flashed back to Heath. “You’ve heard from Andrew?”

“Well—” Emma hastened to her father’s side— “I’m certain Drew was simply being solicitous, since Lord Heathfield would be all alone for Christmas otherwise.”

Almost word for word a line from Drew’s letter. “That did appear to be his concern.” Heath glanced at the cherub-turned-siren. She’d been expecting him, clearly. Had Drew sent word to her about his arrival? Or was something nefarious afoot at Danby Castle?

Lord Norland took a deep breath, one that seemed to Heath to be filled with relief. “I am glad to hear it. Edgeworth must have located him in France, then.”

“Edgeworth?” Lady Emma echoed. “Grandpapa sent him to France? How very dangerous. When did he leave, Papa?”

The marquess shot his daughter a withering glare. “Nothing for you to worry about, my dear.” Then he turned his attention back to Heath and Damien. “I do have a bit of business to attend to. I’m certain my aunt—” he glanced at the old woman in the corner who still hadn’t acknowledge anyone’s presence— “and my daughters can keep you gentlemen entertained.”

“We’ll try our best, Papa,” Lady Emma promised.

Heath could think of worse things than being entertained by the bemusing Emma Whitton. He had a feeling he would enjoy any sort of entertainment she could come up with. “Do you still have your doll collection, my lady?”

Her hazel eyes brightened and her smile nearly lit the room. “Youdoremember.”

“Doll collection?” The marquess glanced from his daughter to Heath.

“It’s nothing, Papa,” Lady Emma assured him. “Lord Heathfield is simply jesting.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Norland replied. “A grown man playing with dolls is unseemly.” Then he narrowed his eyes on his other daughter. “Isabel, I nearly forgot. Your mother is searching for you. Perhaps you know why.”

If Lady Isabel knew why, she didn’t let on. She simply stared wide-eyed at her father. “I have no idea.”

The expression the marquess shot his daughter made it clear Norland didn’t quite believe Lady Isabel’s protestation. “Best you go and find her, Izzy.”

“Of course, Papa.”

* * *

As soon as her father and Isabel departed the parlor, Emma found herself once again alone with the two gentlemen, but she only had the attention of one of them. Fortunately, the gentleman whose eyes sought hers belonged to Lord Heathfield. The success of her plan thus far nearly made her giddy. “I stopped playing with dolls long ago, my lord.”

“Indeed.” He nodded. “You seem to have grown up when I wasn’t looking.”

“Well, you weren’t looking for quite a while.” Not once had she seen him since she was ten years old.

“Do excuse me,” Mr. Lockwell suddenly said as he started for the exit. “I will find you later, Heath.” Then he was gone before either of them could utter a reply.

Emma stared after the departing man, then focused her attention back to the viscount she had duped into visiting Danby Castle. “Where do you suppose he’s off to?”

Heathfield shrugged. “Lockwell always keeps his own counsel.”

“Hmm.” Emma returned to her spot on the settee. “He must be a close friend of Drew’s for my brother to invite him to spend the holidays with us.” Or rather he must be a close friend to Lord Heathfield’s for the viscount to have dragged his friend north with him for Christmas.

Heathfield agreed with an incline of his head. “Indeed, he’s known Drew forever.” Then he took a seat beside her on the settee, and Emma’s breath caught slightly in her throat.

She’d waited so long to see Heathfield again, and now that he was here, right beside her, she felt like the luckiest girl in all of England. His dark blue eyes, like the night sky just before twilight, seemed to take her all in, and warmth crept up her cheeks.

“Well—” she cleared her throat— “I don’t recall having seen him in Town before. Nor you, my lord. I haven’t seenyouduring either of the past two Seasons.”

A slow smile lit his face. “Were you looking for me, Lady Emma?”

Only at every single event she’d ever attended, hoping each time he’d show his face and she’d catch a glimpse of him. That he’d stumble upon her at a soiree and offer her a glass of orgeat, that he’d sit beside her at a musicale to keep her company, that he’d bow low before her at a ball and beg her to waltz with him. And now here he was, right beside her, so close his knee could brush hers if he moved an inch closer. “I had thought to see you at some point, Lord Heathfield.”

He leaned back on the settee and seemed to study her once more. “I have avoided the marriage mart at all costs.”

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