Page 53 of His Scandal
Though Emmeline and Blythe planned to attend festivities at Whitehall at the end of next week, Emmeline wanted to bring Blythe and Maxwell together sooner. She just had to find a way that didn’t seem obvious.
Alex presented her with an opportunity when he invited her and Blythe to attend a country fair with him at the nearby village of Islington on Saturday.
In Emmeline’s bedchamber that night, Blythe held up his letter. “Oh, do say we can go, Emmy! Father will be away, and the last fair we attended was in Kent, ages ago!”
Emmeline deliberately hesitated, then hopedGod forgave her the lie she uttered. “Dearest, I already invited Lord Willoughby to dinner that afternoon.”
“He may join us! I’m sure Alex won’t mind.”
Emmeline did not particularly care if Alex minded; she felt no guilt at all for changing the guest list of his little outing.
She pulled her dressing gown even tighter and decided to ask the question that had been haunting her. “Dearest, has Sir Alexander tried to kiss you again?”
“Not at all.”
Emmeline let out the breath she’d been holding. “Does this bother you?”
“Not really,” she said, and shot her a saucy grin even as she dabbed Emmeline’s perfume at her wrist. “In fact, I’m looking forward to kissing Lord Seabrook, just to see the difference.”
Emmeline almost gaped at her, unable to voice a sisterly warning. She couldn’t imagine even caring about another man’s kiss after having experienced Alex’s. And the fact that Blythe seemed unaffected lightened her heart.
Saturday morn, Emmeline dressed with special care. Around her waist she wore a rolled hip pad, which flared her skirts wide, but would be comfortable when she was riding. She chose a skyblue linen gown that she’d embroidered herself with vines and flowers rather than jewels. She rejoiced in the newness of springtime and had a sense of anticipation that she didn’t understand but didn’t question, either.
When the maid was finished dressing her hair and perched a small brimmed hat on top, Emmeline felt ready for adventure, for fun. She and Blythe had their mares brought around from the stables, while they waited on marble benches under the bright sun.
Blythe regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, wearing a fond smile. “Emmy, you look very lovely today.”
“So do you, dearest,” she replied, squeezing her sister’s hand.
“Is there a particular reason, I wonder?”
“What?”
Blythe shook her head. “Pay me no consequence. I have fanciful imaginings, ’tis all. I just want you to be happy.”
Maxwell arrived first. He was expressing his thanks for the invitation to Emmeline, and shyly managing to greet Blythe without stuttering, when Alex rode up on his magnificent black gelding. Emmeline withheld a smile when he pulled up short on seeing Maxwell. He shot her a narrow-eyed glance.
“A good morn to you, Sir Alexander,” she said, feeling like giggling. Ah, foiling his plans brought a cheer to her heart.
Alex nodded back as he dismounted. “LadyEmmeline, Lady Blythe, your beauty surely rivals this fine English day.” He nodded at Maxwell, his smile still evident. “Lord Willoughby, glad I am that you’re joining us.”
They clasped hands.
“Please, call me Maxwell. No need for formalities here.”
“Then I’m Alex. Shall we be off, ladies?”
When Emmeline stepped up on the bench to mount her horse, she turned to find Alex before her. She looked down at him crossly. “You’re between me and my horse, sir.”
“I’m going to put youonyour horse,” he said, clasping her about the waist with his big hands.
She had time only for a squeak of surprise before she found herself set gently on her sidesaddle, as if she were light as cotton. His hands remained a moment too long and she implored him with her eyes.
“Please, Alex,” she whispered. “They’ll see.”
He sighed and stepped back. “Mustn’t have old Willoughby notice you’re a woman.”
“What doesthatmean?”
