Her heart sank.I would ask that you do the same.Luke was going to avoid her. He was going to let whatever was growing between them die and sputter out.
She thought she would feel despair. After all, had she not just been rejected? Except, that it did not feel like the others. Something about this felt different.
“Because I want him.” Emily whispered to herself.I want him. And he wants me, but what if that is all it is?
“Pardon?” Natalie asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
Emily shook herself. “I was just saying I would like some ham, please, Natalie.”
“Oh of course.” Natalie handed her a slice of ham. “I hope that Duke Warren is not too poorly. It would be a shame if he missed the ball.”
“It would indeed.” Emily agreed, not trusting herself to say any more.
She lapsed into silence, trying to puzzle at her feelings. Luke wanted her, he had admitted that. She had felt it in the passion of their kiss. She wanted him.It feels so strange to admit.
“I know you said that Lord Baine was your last chance, but you must not put such pressure on yourself.” Natalie’s voice jerked Emily to the present. “And even if nothing comes of this, it will not be through any fault of yours.”
“You are too kind, my dearest Natalie.”
“And if he has been a silly enough sausage to let his brother influence him away from you, then I say you should show them both just what they are missing.” Natalie grinned at her.
An idea sprang into her mind, her friend’s words cutting through the fog of Emily’s emotions.So what if he does not want me?She was not as helpless as she had been. She could read now. She was clever. And the scavenger hunt had seen her seven guineas richer.
She thought of the fabric she had chosen, the dress that was waiting for her at the dressmakers. All of the men who had told her she had not been enough flashed in her mind. Ending with a certain, blue-eyed Duke.
He had said he wanted her, and then he had left. No doubt, if she made a fuss or someone discovered what had happened, he would do the honourable thing.
I want to be chosen.The thought seared into her, embedding itself into her very skin. Luke would not choose her. He seemed determined to ignore her. But if she continued on this path of sadness, he would pity her.
“Show them all you have to offer, and they will regret all the chances they never took.” Her mother’s voice filled her mind – it was one of the first things she had said to Emily when she had first entered society.
“Tomorrow, you and I are going to visit the modiste.” Emily smiled conspiratorially at Natalie. “I think there are some last minute additions I would like to make, and now, I have the funds to do so.”
Luke would never choose her, but at the very least, she would show him just what he would be missing.
It will be his loss in the end.
If she thought it often enough, perhaps it would be true.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Another drink, your Grace?” a servant asked, offering a tray of champagne to Luke.
He hesitated a moment, and then took one of the flutes. All around him, people seemed engaged in conversation, at least those people who were not dancing.That is the very nature of balls.
Even Rodger seemed to be enjoying himself, standing in a corner with Lady Marie and Lord Peter. Luke took a swig of his drink, careful not to finish it.
“I should really make some attempt at socialising.” Luke muttered, but made no effort to join any of the groups around him. “Besides, she will no doubt seek out Rodger, and I have no wish to see her again.”
He refused to look towards the staircase. Emily had not yet been announced, but he knew she would be here. His chest squeezedand he took another drink.I will not see her, not again.Ever since their… moment… in the forest, he had been true to his word and avoided her.
He had taken to calling it their moment, even in his mind, hoping the euphemism would somehow calm the torrent of emotions that stirred within him. He felt prickles spread across his skin, and he turned his thoughts away from Emily.
“All I have to do is get through tonight, by this time tomorrow, I will be back in my own home, and all of this will be behind me.” He muttered to himself.
Unless she marries Rodger.The treacherous voice inside him whispered. A wave of nausea washed over him, mingled with a cold and confusing anger. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.
“Perhaps I should not have had another drink. Maybe a little air would do me good.” He began to walk towards the veranda, carefully weaving his way through the crowd, pausing every so often to give a polite greeting.
