Page 7 of To Have & To Hold

“That was before Louisa fell ill,” he replied, his tone as dismissive as his eyes. “Circumstances have changed.”

Emilia felt the room tilt. Surely he did not mean…

“Papa, no!” Louisa interjected. “Emilia does not need to take my place. I can meet Mr. Whitcombe another night.”

“He is expecting an introduction tonight.”

There was no arguing with him, but poor Louisa had yet to learn the warnings hidden in each of his different tones—or she simply didn’t fear him enough to heed them. She had never been given a reason to.

“He is expecting to meet me,” Louisa challenged. “Will he not be disappointed?”

“Lord Whitcombe is expecting to meetoneof my wards. I never specified which one, and it will be of no matter to him.”

Louisa slumped back into her chair, and Emilia saw the light slowly fading from her eyes.

Emilia was used to being overlooked, but Louisa actually believed that she had earned the earl’s pride and affection, only to be dismissed the moment she could no longer beuseful.

“I can not go to the ball tonight,” Emilia finally managed to say once she found her voice.

“What did you say?” Her uncle’s voice lowered, which only meant his rage was growing.

“What I mean is,” she quickly corrected, her mind searching for anything to redirect him. “I do not have anything to wear. All my gowns are from last season, and the new ones we commissioned are not to be completed for another few weeks.”

She held her breath, waiting for his response.

“Louisa will no longer be needing hers,” he replied, his eyes grazing over them both. “I am sure it will fit just fine.”

Louisa’s wails once again filled the room. Lord Moorfield simply turned and strode out the door without another word.

Emilia’s mind swarmed, and the room spun around her. Louisa’s voice sounded far away and hollow.

“You planned this!” She squeaked out between sobs.

Emilia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to slow the spinning, but it only went faster. Her chest tightened, and every breath that came required more and more force.

There was no hiding anymore. If her uncle had his way, she would be getting engaged tonight.

Chapter Three

Nathaniel adjusted the cuff of his evening jacket as he stepped into the aggressively bright ballroom. Crystal chandeliers caught the light of every candle and lantern, flooding the room in a golden glow. It clung to the silk and satin, and gleamed off of diamonds and pearls, reflecting the brilliance back tenfold.

It was too bright and far too warm—stifling, really—even though somewhere near the back of the room, the cold January wind bled in through a pair of open doors.

The heat in his chest didn’t come from the temperature of the room, but from the press of bodies pushing too close, eyes assessing him from every angle, and whispers that clung to him like a second skin hecould not shed.

His grip on his sister’s arm tightened as she tried to surge ahead for a better view. Her eyes were wide, sparkling brighter than every diamond in the room combined.

Every head had turned the moment they entered. Perhaps it was because Nathaniel stood a full head taller than nearly every other man present. Or because this was the first time he had shown his face in Society, beyond the House of Lords, since Sarah Elizabeth Weston had broken their engagement—and his heart.

Or perhaps it was the young woman practically bouncing with anticipation on his arm. Whatever the reason, Charlotte soaked up every whispered glance like air.

Nathaniel led her to the refreshment table, successfully navigating through the crowd without being stopped for feigned pleasantries and introductions he was not yet ready to make. He forced a glass of lemonade into his sister’s hand, just as she reached out for the champagne. Her eyes rose in challenge, but she accepted the drink with a dainty sip.

Nathaniel bowed his head towards her, lowering his voice. “Do I need to remind you of the rules?”

“No.” Charlotte gave a shake of her head, her black curls bouncing against her neck. “I will be on my best behavior.”

“That is what worries me,” Nathaniel murmured into his own drink. “I need you to be onmybest behavior.”