Page 2 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
The cards were proffered with much giggling and glee, and Vaughan dutifully added his name to each. They bid farewell to the group but had only made it another five paces before they were intercepted yet again.
By the time they reached the stairs leading to the upper balcony that overlooked the ballroom, Vaughan felt as if he hadn’t drawn in a full breath for hours. A male voice called his name, but fearing yet another introduction to an eligible lady, he hurried up the stairs with Longley trailing behind him.
“Good lord, Ashford,” Longley puffed as he drew even with Vaughan at the top of the stairs. “You’re far less likely to find a wife up here than you were down there.”
Vaughan surveyed the throng below, his pulse pounding madly in his temples. Even several feet above the revelry, he could hear the giggles, the inane chatter, and felt gazes following him.
“I did not realize it would be so….” He waved his hands, searching for a suitable descriptor. “Intense.”
Longley chuckled. “’Tis the biggest ball of the season so far, which means every marriageable miss is seeking to make an impression. The fact that you are an unmarried duke, who has apparently decided to rectify your lack of a wife, makes you the plumpest catch here tonight.”
Vaughan snorted. “You make me sound like a grouse.”
“To the mamas of unwed young women, you might as well be.”
Vaughan shook his head. “There must be a better way to find a wife.”
Longley shrugged. “If you find one quickly, you won’t have to subject yourself to many of these ghastly affairs. How many dances have you scheduled?”
“Almost half of them.” His tone was morose. He enjoyed dancing, but not in cramped quarters such as this, and especially not with so many eyes on him.
Longley leaned on the balustrade. Vaughan followed his example, gazing out over the shining jewels of the ton.
“What do you want in a wife?” Longley asked. “Perhaps we can hasten the matter by being selective about the ladies to whom you offer your remaining dances.”
Vaughan nodded. That made sense. “She must be well-mannered and respectable.” His duchess would need to be able to smooth over his own occasional social missteps. “She does not have to be wealthy or from a titled family.”
He pursed his lips, trying to quiet his thoughts, but it was difficult with the ruckus below. “She would ideally be popular and able to entertain herself, as I don’t intend to spend much time together after we are wed.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Longley asked, “Are you truly sure you wish to do this?”
BeingLady Violet Carlisle’s twin sometimes made Emma feel invisible. Especially on nights such as these, when gentlemen were practically getting into fisticuffs to determine who would have the honor of dancing with Violet whilst seeming not to notice Emma at all. It made it difficult for Emma to find a man to fall in love with when they all wanted her sister.
With a sigh, Emma shrank back against the wall beside the refreshments table, watching as Violet spun across the dancefloor on the arm of a viscount. She surveyed the gathering, searching for her mother, but her attention was halted by the sight of the square-jawed and remarkably well-built Earl of Longley, who seemed to be making his way directly to her.
Emma straightened, pushing her shoulders back and smiling in welcome. She had always liked the earl. Not only was he handsome, but he was also clever and kind. Perhaps he would spare her from another evening spent as a wallflower by asking her to dance.
“Lady Emma,” he said, stopping in front of her. “You look well tonight.”
She dropped into a curtsey. “As do you, my lord.”
When she rose, he gestured toward the dance floor.
“Do you know when Lady Violet will next be free? I have someone to whom I’d like to introduce her.”
Emma’s heart sank. Of course the earl had not come over here to see her. As always, it was her sister whose company was desired.
“I believe she is free in two dances’ time, my lord.”
“Very good. My thanks, Lady Emma.” He sketched a quick bow and left.
Emma turned to the table beside her and poured herself a drink. She sipped the lemonade and eyed the tiny pastries and cakes set out nearby. They had not eaten dinner prior to departing from Carlisle House because their mother had wanted them to look slim in their gowns.
Unfortunately, being hungry made Emma lethargic, which meant she lagged even further behind Violet in the beauty department than usual. She edged closer to the table and reached for a pastry, slipping it into her hand and quickly raising it to her lips. She glanced around, checking whether anyone had noticed, but of course, nobody was looking at her.
Nobody ever was.
She took another pastry and spied one of her acquaintances dancing with her new husband. Their heads were ducked close together, their gazes locked on each other. Emma sighed. They looked as though they were aware of no one else in the room.
