Page 5 of Look at Her Duke
They made small talk about his time on the Continent and he tried to be as charming as possible, while all the while his gaze swept the gathered masses, looking for Alistair and his youngest sister.
Would she come?
If she didn’t, what would he do?
Tonight he was expected to dance with Emma, and if they spent enough time together, the Great Gossip Machine that was the matrons of Society would start humming. Kip would be linked to Emma before he could even formally ask for her hand.
Not that he wanted to, not anymore.
After seeing Amelia today, realizing he was still completely enthralled by her zest for life, he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with the icy blonde woman who currently clutched his arm after Mother had drifted aside to chat with her friend.
Emma was pretty enough, but in a sort of porcelain doll way; it was clearshe’dnever scraped her knee chasing after a baby goat, or soaked her skirts while she caught frogs in the estate pond.
Of course, Alistair spent his days in London lately, so Kip assumed his sisters did as well. He’d expected refinements, an aloof air, a forgetting of who she was. But today’s encounter proved Amelia was the same lass he remembered.
Just all grown up.
Very, very all grown up. And out. Perfectly out.
Just the memory of her curves made his palms itch.
“Oh, listen, Your Grace! The music is starting up again.” Emma fluttered her lashes, about as subtle as a locomotive engine.
He’d only known her a month, and already disliked the way she was used to getting what she wanted. It never occurred to her that she wouldn’t, in fact.
“Oh yes, darling! Ye should dance,” Mother urged.
When Kip glanced at her, she lowered her brows and darted a furious glance toward Emma, then back to him.
Ah, well, he could pick up on a hint. Especially when laid down with a shovel.
“Lady Emma,” he began stiffly. “Would ye do me the honor of joining me?”
“Oh,Your Grace,” she tittered in mock surprise. “I would be delighted!”
And stifling yet another sigh, Kipling led her out to the dance floor.
“Are you well, Amelia?”murmured Olivia, her new sister-in-law. “I expected Alistair to look ill at such an event, but I would’ve guessed you’d be excited.”
The two of them stood on either side of Amelia’s brother, the Duke of Effinghell. Earlier this year, he’d made quite the splashby not only contracting marriage to a completely unsuitable newspaper reporter, he’d been so disgraceful as to go and fall in love with her.
But Amelia loved Olivia, and knew her sister Amanda did as well. Olivia had drawn Alistair from the darkness he’d inhabited for so many years, and brought him back to his family.
So Amelia forced a smile. “Attending balls is still somewhat new to me.” Her brother, despite his enormous influence, had hidden from Society and contented himself with written correspondence. “This is only my third such event which Alistair did not himself host.”
Her large, mostly silent brother, harumphed slightly. But when she peeked up at him, his lips twitched.
He hated Society events as she herself loved them. Or at least, she hadthoughtshe loved them; she had little experience. But years of tutoring and lessons had prepared her for this, at least.
“Well, I promised Alistair I wouldn’t nag him into dancing with me,” Olivia murmured, pretending interest in the crowd. “But that doesn’t meanyoushouldn’t dance.”
“Do you think I might convince Alistair to dance withme?”
As Olivia swallowed her giggle, Alistair turned a horrified expression on Amelia, who also had to press her lips together to keep from laughing.
Of course Alistair wouldn’t dance with her. It was hard enough for him to be here, surrounded by people who were neither friends nor family. At least whenhehosted an event, he could be certain none of his guests would mock his voice, or the fact he preferred not to speak at all.
Here, his only chance was to hope no one would talk to them.
