Page 4 of The Marquess's Scandalous Game
Emma believed her mother would not have approved of her healing practice, only because of the elevation in their status. Her father reminded her of this constantly, saying her mother only meant for her to have the knowledge to assist her close family, if needed. Father’s many monologues only served to make her more determined to forge her own existence rather than having one that was carved out for her. She decided a long time ago that she wanted to be happy, not to wallow in misery. She had explained it all to father, but he would not hear of it. Shedid not understand why her father grappled with her reasoning, for it all made perfect sense to her.
Her father was often away from home for one reason or another. There was no doubt that he was still grieving. Perhaps looking at his children was too much of a painful reminder of the lady he lost. Emma was the spitting image of her mother, or so he said.
Emma often wondered where her father went when he disappeared. She supposed she should not be overly concerned because it did not appear that her father had an interest in finding another wife. Emma was pleased not to have a stepmother, yet she wondered if she was being selfish since her siblings were younger. With her father being so absent, she pondered what would become of her siblings if he was to get his wish and she were to marry. Emma pictured their innocent faces, and it broke her heart. How would she tell them? She could not bear the thought of living apart from them.
Emma pulled her wondering thoughts back to the present with a heavy sigh. She had dallied for far too long in the garden. She took a deep breath and headed towards the door leading to the ballroom. She slipped inside unnoticed and proceeded to the refreshment room for a glass of wine.
Apparently, the entirehaut tonwas in attendance. People were milling around, and the room was a buzz of chatter. Emma searched for the enigmatic man, but she did not see him. She moved to the ballroom, where she may have better luck in spotting him because she was so very curious about his identity.
The next set had started, and there were couples twirling and swirling across the floor. He was not one of them. Perhaps he had retired for the evening. Emma took a sip of wine and sighed. She felt rather foolish standing on the sidelines, scrutinizing everyone, hoping to get a glimpse.
“Did you notice that the Marquess of Adlington was bold enough to show his face?” a lady whispered.
Her wine glass was halfway to her lips; Emma stilled and listened keenly.
Her companion audibly gasped. “I cannot believe it! Are you certain?”
“I am indeed. The audacity. You do know that he was caught in a compromising position with Lady Felecia and that cad refused to marry her. The poor girl. She was ruined by the scandal two years ago.”
The lady’s voice dripped with disdain. Emma did not dare to turn to see who they were.
“I remember it well. Fortunately, her family was wealthy, and Baron Glover was taken with her. He offered for her and they later married. Of course, her wealth sweetened the pot,” her companion replied.
“That may be, but for an earl’s daughter, with her connections, marrying a baron was below her station. The baron was better for it. Lady Felecia came with a large dowry and improved his status and connections. What did she get?” the lady asked her companion, although she already knew the answer.
“Terrible, just terrible.”
“And to think that the marquess is here. Is he seeking another maiden to debauch?”
“I suspect he was able to waltz into this ball tonight because of his wealth and shrewdness. They say that he has become as tough as nails in matters of business, and no gentleman dare cross him.”
“Hmm, I have heard the same. It appears he is quite fierce in conducting his affairs. They say he is like a shark in the water that is waiting to smell blood. He moves in for the kill if you show any sign of weakness.”
“Good heavens! Those words have just sent a shiver of dread down my spine.”
“Sadly, I do not exaggerate. The young ladies of thehaut tonshould be cautious this evening. Did you not hear what the marquess did to Lord Butler? Of his unfortunate demise?”
Her companion paused before she replied, “According to what I heard, Lord Butler took his own life when his business got into difficulties. Apparently, he lost his entire investment.”
The lady’s voice held a superior air. She knew something that her companion did not.
Shocked, Emma couldn’t help discreetly peering at them with unabashed curiosity. Who was this marquess they spoke about? Last year, she vaguely recalled some scandal attached to the name, but Emma had not paid attention, for she deplored gossip.
“Well, who do you think invested in his business, including the distillery? The very same marquess who called in the loans when things got difficult for poor Lord Butler. Lord Butler went to see the marquess and fell to his knees, pleading for mercy, but it was to no avail. The marquess was unmoved,” the lady announced with such relish that one would think she was departing good news.
The incessant gossip was one of the reasons Emma disliked social gatherings. She took a sip of wine before a sharp intake of breath behind her caused her to still.
“There he is. Right there by the door leading to the garden,” the lady said excitedly.
Her companion gasped. “I see him. The handsome devil.”
Emma gazed towards the door leading to the garden, and her breath caught in her throat. It was the enigmatic stranger.
Is he the marquess? Lord Adlington? The cad they described?
Emma used her free hand to steady the hand holding her wine glass. She hoped no one noticed the tremor. She felt a bead of perspiration on her forehead, and her jaw went slack. How could the gentleman who showed her a glimpse of his vulnerability be this dreadful monster? She could hardly believe it.
For the first time in her life, Emma had met a man who made her heart quicken, and from what she just heard, he turned out to be a bounder. She could scarcely breathe. Her thoughts flashed back to his face in the garden when he wore his emotions plain for her to see. It was not the face of one who was a spoiler of innocents but rather a man who had known pain.
