by Julia Quinn
Emma was startled by the evidence of his rampant desire, and this realization of his urgency broke through her passion-induced haze. She was suddenly aware that she was swiftly heading into a situation she probably could not handle. “Alex?” she questioned softly.
Alex took her question to be another moan of desire. “Oh, yes, Emma, yes,” he responded. His lips had traveled to her earlobe, which he was sucking gently, and one of his hands had covered her breast. Everything he was doing felt terribly perfect, and it was all Emma could do to say his name again, this time a little more forcefully.
“What, darling?” he asked, cradling her face in his hands as he prepared to tease her lips with his own again.
“I think it’s time to stop,” Emma said shakily.
Alex was agonized. He knew that she was right, but his body was throbbing, demanding release. But then again, he couldn’t very well make love to her in the middle of the Lindworthys’ garden. He released her slowly and turned away, his hands on his hips as he fought to regain control of himself.
“Alex? Are you angry with me?”
He didn’t move. “No,” he said slowly, his breathing still labored. “Just with myself.”
Emma touched his shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t blame yourself. I was as much at fault as you were. I could have stopped you at any time.”
Alex turned around to face her. “Could you?” His smile was wry, and it didn’t reach his eyes. He took another deep breath. “Well, Emma, you do realize that this changes things?”
Emma nodded, thinking that his words were an understatement if she’d ever heard one. She did, however, wonder just exactly how things were going to change.
“Perhaps you should sneak around to the washroom before you reenter the ballroom. Your hair is mussed,” Alex advised, afraid that he’d once again lose control if he allowed himself to speak of anything other than the most mundane of matters. “I’ve been here before. If you go around the corner, there is a side entrance that leads to the main hallway. From there, you should be able to find a washroom without trouble.”
Emma’s hand reflexively flew to her head, and she quickly tried to assess the damage. “All right. If you go back now, I’ll go fix my hair and won’t show up for another fifteen minutes.” Her voice sounded breathy, unnatural. “That should quell the gossip.”
“It seems we have made a habit of orchestrating separate returns to ballrooms.”
Emma smiled at him weakly before she turned and fled around the corner.
Chapter 9
Emma slunk along the side of the Lindworthys’ home, muttering ungraciously to herself all the while.
“Of all the stupid things to do. Letting him drag me out of the ballroom into a deserted garden. I should have known something like this was going to happen.”
Emma paused, grudgingly admitting to herself that she’d most definitely enjoyed Alex’s kiss.
“All right, so I liked it,” she grumbled. “But where does this leave me now? I’m prowling around like a burglar, hoping to find a side door that may or may not even exist. My slippers are getting wet, I’ve probably torn the hem of my dress on a rosebush, and he doesn’t even have the least inclination to marry me.”
Emma froze. Dear Lord, what had she just said? Thank goodness she had only been conversing with herself. Emma shivered and pursed her lips.
“Banish that thought, Emma Elizabeth Dunster,” she commanded, edging around the corner to the back of the mansion. She didn’t really want to marry Alex, did she? It was impossible. She’d always meant to go back to Boston and take over her father’s company. When she got married, it would be to some nice American fellow who would be happy to run the company with her.
But what if she never found that nice American fellow? And was he really worth finding when she had a rather amazing British one right here, right now?
Emma sighed as the memory of Alex and their few stolen moments flooded her mind. It was time to be reasonable, she decided. Were there really any good reasons why she should even consider the idea of marrying Alexander Edward Ridgley, the oh-so-lofty Duke of Ashbourne?
Well, for one thing, he was a superb kisser.
Besides that!
All right then, he never talked down to her. So many men of the ton talked to women as if they were some lower species whose brains hadn’t developed fully. Alex always treated her as if she were every bit as intelligent as he was.
Which she was, Emma silently declared with a nod of her head.
Also, she felt very comfortable in his presence. When they were together, she never felt as if she had to hide her true personality under a sheer layer of artifice and illusion. He seemed to like her just the way she was.
Furthermore, he had a delicious sense of humor which was remarkably similar to her own. He certainly liked to tease her mercilessly, but he was never malicious, and he could take a joke as well as he could deliver one. Life with Alex certainly would not be dull, she could count on that.
And, of course, he was a superb kisser.
Emma groaned as she practically fell through the side door. She was going to have to give this matter a little more thought.
Meanwhile, Alex had slipped back into the ballroom by way of the French doors and was doing his best to mingle graciously with a bunch of people in whom he did not usually have very much interest. But he was eager to appear cool and calm in case anyone had happened to notice his and Emma’s rather hasty excursion into the garden.
He had just finished telling Lord Acton, a friend of his from White’s, about a stallion he had recently purchased, when he spied Sophie and his mother across the ballroom.
“Excuse me,” he said smoothly. “I see that my mother and sister have arrived. I really must go greet them.” Alex gave his friend a nod and made his way through the crowd to his family.
Eugenia Ridgely, the dowager Duchess of Ashbourne, was not an imposing figure. Indeed, she couldn’t have been an imposing figure if she tried. Her green eyes sparkled warmly, and her lips always seemed to form a vibrant smile. Accompanying this friendly demeanor was a dry sense of humor which had made her one of the most well loved members of the ton for years. She’d been born the daughter of an earl and been exalted to the rank of duchess when she married Alex’s and Sophie’s father, but she had never developed the snobbery that was so rampant among most of society. Her eyes lit up as she saw her son crossing the ballroom in her direction.
“Hello, Mother,” Alex said fondly, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Ah, Alex,” Eugenia said dryly. “What a pleasure it is to attend a function and actually see you in person.” She held out her cheek, dutifully waiting for his kiss.
It was easy to see where Alex had gotten his caustic tongue.
“Always a pleasure, Mother.”
“I know it is, dear. Now where is that darling girl who has pulled you out of hiding?” She craned her neck, looking for Emma’s familiar red hair.
“Actually, I haven’t seen her since I danced with her a half an hour ago.”
“I saw her go out into the garden,” Sophie said pointedly.
Alex shot her a dirty look. “I thought you were planning to retire from society.”
Sophie beamed, smoothing her hands along her still-svelte figure. “Four months along, and I’m not showing yet. Isn’t that lucky?”
“For you, perhaps. As for myself, I’m breathless in anticipation for the day you balloon to the size of a small heifer.”
“You beast!” Sophie stomped on his foot.
Alex smiled wickedly. “Ah, my sweet bovine sister.”
“Well, it is a pity that Emma isn’t here,” Eugenia said, pointedly ignoring her children’s squabble. “I do so enjoy her company. When did you say you were going to ask her to marry you, Alex?”
“I didn’t.”
“Hmmm, I could have sworn you mentioned something to me about it.”
“That would have been my evil twin brother,” Alex said
flatly.
Eugenia chose to ignore his sarcasm. “Really, dear, you are simply an idiot if you let her get away.”
“So you’ve mentioned.”
“I’m still your mother, you know.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“You should listen to me. I know what is best for you.”
Alex cracked a smile. “I believe that you believe you know what’s best for me.”
Eugenia scowled. “You are so difficult.”
Sophie, who had been uncharacteristically silent, suddenly piped up. “I think you should leave him alone, Mother.”
“Thank you,” Alex said gratefully.
“After all, I don’t think she’d have him even if he asked.”
Alex bristled. Of course she’d— He smiled sweetly at his sister. “You’re trying to goad me.”
“Yes, I guess I am. Sisters are supposed to do that, you know.”
“It’s not working.”
“Really? I rather thought it worked beautifully. Your jaw clenched magnificently when I said she didn’t want you.”
“Ah, I do so adore my family,” Alex sighed.
“Cheer up, dear,” the dowager smiled. “We’re better than most, you know. Take my word for it.”
“I shall,” Alex said, leaning down to give her another affectionate peck on the cheek.
“Oh, look!” the dowager suddenly exclaimed, motioning toward the dance floor. “There is your friend Dunford dancing with Belle Blydon. Perhaps you should claim the next dance with her. She’s a sweet girl, and I wouldn’t want her to get upset if she’s left alone for the next dance.”
Alex eyed his mother suspiciously. “Lady Arabella rarely lacks admirers.”
“Yes, well, er, there’s always a first time, and I would so hate to see her feelings hurt.”
“You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you, Mother?”
“Yes, I am, and you’re making it exceedingly difficult.”
Alex sighed as he prepared to claim a dance with Belle. “Pray try not to plot my downfall in my absence.”
When Alex was safely out of earshot, Eugenia turned to her daughter and said, “Sophie, we must act decisively.”
“I agree completely,” Sophie replied. “Except that I’m not exactly sure what kind of decisive move we need to make.”
“I’ve given this matter considerable thought.”
“I’m sure you have,” Sophie murmured, her lips hinting at a smile.
Eugenia shot her a sharp look but ignored her statement. “I have concluded that what we need is a weekend in the country.”
“What are you going to do? Force Alex to accompany you to Westonbirt and torture him until he agrees to ask Emma to marry him?”
“Nonsense. We’ll ask the Blydons to join us. And of course we will insist that they bring their darling niece.”
“It’s brilliant!” Sophie exclaimed.
“And then we’ll contrive to leave them alone on every possible occasion.”
“Exactly. We’ll encourage them to go on picnics together, take rides in the woods—that sort of thing.” Sophie paused for a moment, pursing her lips in thought. “Alex will see through it, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But I don’t think it will matter. He’s so besotted with her, he’ll do anything to get her alone—even if that means going along with your less-than-subtle schemes.”
“Maybe he will just take the initiative and compromise her.” Eugenia clapped her hands together in glee over that possibility.
“Mother!” Sophie exclaimed. “I cannot believe you said that. I can’t believe you even thought it.”
Eugenia sighed the sigh of weary mothers. “In my advanced years I find less and less of a need for scruples of any kind. Besides, for all his rakish ways, Alex is a man of honor.”
“Yes, of course. He’s only nine and twenty. I would imagine he still has a few scruples left.”
Eugenia’s green eyes narrowed. “Are you poking fun at me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Hmmph. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
Sophie nodded enthusiastically.
“What I was trying to say,” Eugenia continued; “is that if Alex happened to compromise our Miss Dunster in some way—”
“Ravish her, you mean,” Sophie interrupted.
“Whatever you want to call it, but if such an event were to happen in the, er, heat of passion— you must agree that he would feel honor-bound to marry her afterward.”
“Isn’t this a rather drastic way of getting your son married off?” Sophie asked, still unable to believe that she was discussing such delicate matters with her mother. “And what about Emma? She might not be exactly thrilled about getting compromised, you know.”
Eugenia looked her daughter straight in the eye. “Do you like Emma?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you want Alex to marry her?”
“Of course I do. I would love to have Emma as a sister-in-law.”
“Can you think of a woman who would make your brother happier?”
“Well, no, not really.”
Eugenia shrugged her shoulders. “The end justifies the means, my dear, the end justifies the means.”
“I cannot believe what a strategist you’ve become,” Sophie said in a hushed whisper. “And furthermore, you can’t even be certain that he’ll compromise her!”
Eugenia’s expression was smug. “He will certainly try.”
“Mother!”
“Well, he will. I’m sure of it. I know a rake when I see one, even if he is my own son. Especially if he’s my own son.” Eugenia turned to Sophie with a knowing smile. “He’s a lot like his father, you know.”
“Mother!”
Her smile widened as she lost herself in memories. “Alex was born only seven months after our wedding. Your father was quite a lover.”
Sophie clapped her hand to her forehead. “Don’t say another word, Mother. I really do not want to know anything about the intimate details of my parents’ lives.” She sighed deeply. “I would really prefer to think of both of you as completely chaste beings.”
“If we were completely chaste, my dear”— Eugenia chuckled and unceremoniously poked her finger at her daughter—“you would not be around now to talk about it.”
Sophie flushed. “All the same, I’d rather not hear about it.”
Eugenia patted her daughter comfortingly on her upper arm. “If it makes you feel better, my dear.”
“It does, believe me. I simply cannot believe you’re telling me this.”
Eugenia smiled and shook her head. “Propriety, I’m afraid, has gone the way of scruples.” With that, she wandered off into the crowd, in search of Lady Worth.
Belle and Dunford, meanwhile, were having a marvelous time waltzing around the ballroom. The waltz was still a rather new dance, and some considered it scandalous, but Belle and Dunford rather enjoyed it, and not just because it annoyed the more staid members of society. Their love of the dance stemmed mostly from the fact that the waltz allowed a couple to actually carry on a conversation without one or the other having to continuously turn his back. They were taking advantage of this feature, rather heatedly debating an opera they had both recently seen when Dunford abruptly changed the subject.
“He’s in love with your cousin, you know.”
Belle was widely regarded as one of the most graceful dancers among the ton, but this time she didn’t just miss a step, she missed three. “He told you that?” she asked, agape.
Dunford gave her a little tug to get her back into the rhythm of the dance. “Well, not in so many words,” he admitted, “but I’ve known Ashbourne for ten years, and believe me, he’s never been so silly about a female before.”
“I’d hardly call falling in love silly.”
“That’s not the point and you know it, Arabella dear.” Dunford paused for a moment as he smiled innocently at Alex, who had just spotted him from acro
ss the ballroom. Turning back to Belle, he added, “The fact is he’s absolutely crazy over your cousin, but I fear he’s got it so firm in his head that he’s not going to marry until he’s nearly forty, that he won’t do anything about it.”
“But why is he so dead-set against marrying now?”
“When Ashbourne first made his appearance into society, he had already inherited his title, and he was also fabulously wealthy.”
“And quite handsome.”
Dunford smiled wryly. “It was a veritable feeding frenzy. Every unmarried lady—and quite a few of the married ones—set her cap for him.”
“I should think he’d find the attention flattering,” Belle surmised.
“Quite the opposite, actually. Ashbourne isn’t blind, you know. It was excruciatingly apparent that most of the women who were fawning over him were more interested in becoming a wealthy duchess than they were in getting to know Alex himself. The whole experience quite turned him off the social scene. He left to fight on the Peninsula soon after, and I don’t think his desire to go was entirely due to patriotic fervor. He doesn’t exactly hold most women in the highest regard.” Dunford paused and looked Belle straight in the eye. “Even you must admit that most ton ladies are really quite ridiculous.”
“Of course, but Emma’s not like that, and he knows it. I would think he’d be thrilled to find someone like her.”
“That would be the sensible thing, wouldn’t it?” The music came to a stop, and Dunford took Belle’s arm and led her to the edge of the dance floor. “But somewhere along the way, this mistrust of women got translated into a decision to avoid marriage as long as humanly possible, and I imagine he’s quite forgotten why he became so dead-set against getting married in the first place.”
“If that isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”
Before Dunford could answer, they heard a deep voice chuckle. “I have heard a lot of stupid things in my life, Belle. I’m intensely curious to hear the stupidest.”
Belle looked up in horror at Alex, who was standing before her to ask her to dance. “Um,” she improvised wildly, “Dunford here seems to think that, um, in operas, um, that people should sing less.”
