Page 23 of His Scandal
Chapter 7
Three days later, Alex stood before the entrance to the grand London home of the Marquess of Kent. Columns rose high above him, and carved stone flanked the massive doors. Tall windows let in the light.
He had to court Blythe for a kiss, which meant visiting her.
Then why did his evening with Emmeline spring immediately to mind?
He could admit to curiosity. He wanted to face her in the light of day, and see if her customary serenity could be upset by memories of their time together.
Or did he mock himself? Was it he who wanted to forget the sensations he’d felt as he held her lush body? He remembered the brief taste of her flesh, the brush of her hair against his skin. Suchsimple things with other women—but downright erotic with Emmeline.
He lifted the doorknocker and let it fall. The door opened immediately, as if the liveried manservant’s only duty was to welcome guests.
“I have come to call on Lady Blythe. Is she at home?”
The servant bowed as Alex stepped in. Stone walls rose high above him, covered with paintings and tapestries, and clean rushes were strewn across the floor.
“Might I ask your name, my lord?”
“Sir Alexander Thornton.”
“Please wait in the front parlor while I inquire, my lord.”
While Alex was seated on the low-backed settle, Lord Kent entered the front hall, where two servants adjusted his cloak and handed him his hat. He stared into the parlor at Alex, who promptly rose to his feet and gave his best court bow.
“You are—?” said Lord Kent brusquely.
“Sir Alexander Thornton, my lord.”
“You are here to see Blythe?”
Why was Blythe the immediate assumption? “Yes, my lord.”
Kent sent one of the servants away with a message for Blythe. Then he leaned forward on his decorative cane, but still did not enter the room. “Your father was Viscount Thornton?”
“He was.”
“A good man.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I hope your brother can do half as well. A pity he’s married.”
Alex felt the heat of anger rise in his face, but before he could decide on the best retort, Emmeline appeared at her father’s side and peered into the parlor.
Her eyes widened, and Alex thought that she paled a bit, as if she feared he was discussing her with her father. He calmed himself and managed a bow in her direction.
“Lady Emmeline.”
As she looked back and forth between the two of them, Lord Kent gave his elder daughter a nod as if she were a servant.
“Keep Thornton company until Blythe arrives. Mind you, he’s not to stay long. Lord Seabrook has asked to attend your sister today.”
Of course Lord Seabrook, the heir to a duchy, would be a far more fitting suitor than a mere knight, Alex thought with disdain.
The marquess left the mansion, followed by a trail of servants. A moment later, Alex and Emmeline were alone, though still in two separate rooms. She looked at the front door for a moment, but Alex saw not even wistfulness cross her features. She controlled every emotion—or thoughtshe did. He began to wonder if only he could bring out her impulsiveness.
He was no longer shocked that her father used her to amuse her sister’s suitor; instead, he would take advantage of it. She was not wearing a ruff about her neck, and he could see the long line of her throat, the delicate width of her shoulders, the creamy skin that disappeared into the square neckline of her tan gown. Serviceable, plain garments, but they framed her uncovered auburn hair like a jewel.
