Page 81 of His Scandal
Chapter 21
Lady Rutherford’s card party was going to be a sedate, relaxed affair, Emmeline realized, as she came through the doorway. At her side was Blythe, who had arrived home in time for the event. On the coach ride over she’d told Emmeline about the people she’d seen in Kent, the parties she’d attended, but all the while Emmeline had gotten the impression that Blythe was almost relieved to be back in London.
Guilt swamped Emmeline as her sister rushed forward happily to a table occupied by her female friends. She hoped Blythe wasn’t looking for Alex, because how could she tell her that Alex wasn’t interested in her anymore? Blythe would want to know how she knew, and Emmeline would have to say—because he’s trying to seduce me!
Blythe waved her over and Emmeline shookher head, pointing to the refreshment table. She stood there alone a moment, sipping wine handed to her by a servant, until Maxwell joined her.
Perspiration shone on his forehead, and his normally pristine appearance seemed hastily put together.
“Maxwell?” she said uncertainly.
He seemed to force a grin. “A good evening to you, Lady Emmeline.”
Before she could say another word, he burst out, “I cannot do this.”
She slumped with disappointment. “Oh, Maxwell, what am I to do with you? YouknowAlex is right.”
“Yes, but I feel so foolish. Surely I will be the joke of the party.”
“Never. You are a well-respected man. So let us see who’s at the spinet.”
They both turned and saw that Blythe had just taken the bench, and was now looking through the sheet music.
“How perfect!” Emmeline said, though she could see him swallow and tug at the high ruff beneath his chin. “Go ahead, Maxwell.”
“But…surely her friends will help her.”
“Then you’d best sit beside her before they do.”
She turned him about by the shoulders and gave him a little push toward the spinet. He stumbled, then straightened and walked determinedlyto the instrument. Blythe looked up and smiled at him, easing Emmeline’s nerves.
Maxwell took Blythe’s hand and bowed over it, pressing a kiss that made Blythe blush. Emmeline could barely contain her glee. Maxwell spoke to her sister, leaning over, and suddenly Blythe was making room for him on the bench.
Emmeline could have clapped and shouted her praise. Oh, good for Maxwell!
She didn’t want to spy on them, so she turned her back and looked out over the room. Little tables were scattered about, and already people were engrossed in card games, while servants wandered about with wine and food.
At the table behind her, a man said, “Did you hear? Viscount Thornton has returned to London. I just spoke with him tonight.”
Emmeline barely stopped herself from rudely interrupting for details. Alex’s brother was back from the Isle of Wight? She could not wait to see the man Alex had successfully impersonated for almost two years. Were their personalities as alike as their faces?
And then she saw him speaking to their hostess, Lady Rutherford. She studied him thoughtfully, amazed at their identical looks, then looking deeper for their differences. He held himself with a formal, straight bearing, where Alex always seemed casually relaxed. As he spoke his expression was serious, and the smile he finally showed seemed restrained. This was not a man who freely gave in to his emotions.
And then Lady Rutherford was leading him toward Emmeline, and she saw for herself that the banked wickedness in Alex’s eyes was absent in his brother’s.
And she missed it. In Alex there was always the promise of wildness and unpredictability.
“Lady Emmeline?” Lady Rutherford said. “I would like to introduce you to Lord Thornton.”
Emmeline curtsied deeply, then looked up into the interested eyes of Alex’s brother.
“Lady Emmeline,” he said, “I asked for this introduction because I had to meet the woman that my…mother spoke so much of. I understand she and your mother were friends.”
“Yes, my lord. And how is your mother doing?”
“Quite well, thank you. We had a pleasant visit together.”
Oh, he was nothing like Alex, so formal, so polite.
