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She cast her gaze down, her ridiculously long lashes casting over her cheeks that heated with a charming shade of pink. “Of course.” She bobbed a quick curtsy, her delicate hands lifting out her skirts as she did. “I just thought…” But then she stopped. “Forgive me. Enjoy your evening.”
And then she turned, her hair glimmering in the candlelight.
Which drew his eye to the slender column of her neck, the narrow set of her shoulders, and her tiny waist, highlighted by the band around her high-waisted gown. The pale pink silk caught the light as she began to retreat.
He’d never seen a woman who so immediately captured his attention. Both beautiful and vulnerable, he knew he should walk away as well. He’d started to…
“What’s your name?” He’d spent enough time with the ton to know he shouldn’t ask. A formal introduction was the only way to meet a woman like her. Though to be fair, she shouldn’t have spoken to him either. Which led him to the question why she had spoken to him at all, and perhaps even more puzzling, why he called her back again. The request was beyond foolish.
She stopped and spun back to him, the blush still infusing her cheeks. “Miss Emily Cross.”
“Miss Cross.” He arched a brow, stepping closer. “Pleasure.”
“And you, Lord Smith.”
That made him pause. While he occasionally socialized, he rarely stepped out in society. He’d purchased the title for the express purpose of conducting business, not indulging in social events. “How do you know my name?”
She flushed even pinker, her chest rising and falling rapidly, which honestly had its merits. But he focused instead on the woman who knew him when she shouldn’t. “I know your sister. Mirabelle.”
Mirabelle? The elder of his two sisters, she was generally shy and quiet. And a bastard. Which meant, there was very little reason for any woman who would be attending the Spencers’ Summer Soiree to know his sister. “How do you know my sister?”
She visibly swallowed, taking a half step back. “We volunteer together at the orphanage on Mondays.”
He took a step forward and then another. Because that did not explain what she knew and did not know about his family and its wealth of secrets. His sisters didn’t have friends outside each other and neither did his brothers. It was a rule they all adhered to in order to make the burden of such knowledge easier.
It had never been much trouble for him with so many brothers about, but he’d often wondered if it was harder for the girls. There were only two of them. Still, Mirabelle knew the rule and she’d clearly broken it. What had his dear sister shared with the lovely Miss Cross? Did the beautiful young lady know about his fake title and how he’d acquired it? Information like that would see him to the gallows. “Miss Cross, I’m afraid you’re going to have to give me more information than that.”
“I thought you didn’t wish to converse?” she said, then slid back a bit further.
“No. I said I didn’t care for idle conversation and this is anything but.” And then he closed the distance between them, placing a firm hand under her elbow. With a deft turn, he started skirting the dancers as though he were taking her out to the courtyard.
But at the last moment, instead of stepping outside with several other partygoers who enjoyed the crisp fall air, he ducked them down a quiet hall, likely used by the servants.
Which meant they’d not be alone for long.
He’d have to use his time very wisely to discover what the pretty Miss Cross understood about his family’s situation.
The secrets she might know could send him to the Tower, or worse, the gallows.
Emily swallowed down a lump as she stared up at the handsomely intimidating lord.
This was why she hardly spoke to anyone outside her family. Inevitably, the exact wrong words tumbled from her lips.
His dark eyes were narrowed as he stared back, his square jaw hard as granite. His hair was impeccably combed back from his face, his clothing equally perfect, which only added to his air of power and control.
She swallowed again. “My lord, we should not be here.”
Somehow, his jaw further hardened. “What has my sister said to you?”
Oh. That.
A great deal actually.
Emily should have known to keep her mouth closed. She had a habit of saying the very thing that might upset a person most.
She didn’t mean to, it just always came out that way.
And she’d heard so much about Lord Smith. Even seen him on a few occasions when he’d come to collect Mirabelle at the orphanage. Caught sight of his broad shoulders and strong stance through the window of the front room that the orphanage used for any visitors who might come calling.
