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“My brother. Lord Boxby,” she muttered to Lord Smith under her breath meeting her brother’s gaze with a weak smile.
“Your brother is Baron Boxby?”
She didn’t have time to confirm his question before her brother was upon them, two of his friends just behind.
The Duke of Upton and the Earl of Somersworth. Both men had placed dances on her card, but neither were the least bit interested in her. They’d asked her as a favor to her brother. Was that how her brother intended to turn around her fortunes this season? She hated being the object of their pity.
“Emily,” her brother repeated, his gaze flitting to Lord Smith. “Where are you off to?”
Her mouth opened but no words came out. How did she even begin to explain?
Lord Smith, his hand slipping from her elbow, bowed. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Boxby. I am Lord Smith.”
Ken’s eyes narrowed. “Smith?” he repeated, his shoulders straightening as he looked Lord Smith up and down. “How do you know my sister?”
“My sister volunteers alongside your sister at the orphanage.”
Her brother visibly relaxed and Emily marveled at Lord Smith’s ability to tell the truth and get away with it.
Well, that was not exactly right. One didn’t get away with telling the truth. But he’d told the exact right amount of truth without revealing any of the unnecessary and unflattering details.
She glanced up at him, his face impassive and unreadable.
“How nice,” Ken said, gaze assessing as he studied her. “Why haven’t I met Lord Smith’s sister if you’re friends? You’ll have to introduce us.” Ken generally didn’t approve of her friendships. She had a few friends but none that her brother liked. They were either shy like herself or not well-connected. Mirabelle was sure to be no exception.
“Since you’re here.” Lord Smith took a step toward her brother and away from her. “I’ve something that I’d like to discuss with you.” Emily knew when she was being dismissed.
It was an experience she’d had often enough.
She wished she could grumble in dissatisfaction the way Lord Smith had. It was a lovely sound that commanded notice, and she didn’t wish for her time with Smith to end. She’d been having fun. He’d dragged her to a private hall and then across the floor to another potentially illicit meeting. This might be the best ball she’d ever attended.
She’d like to marry someday. If she were being honest, she’d like to marry a man like Lord Smith. Strong. Commanding. How could she get a man like him to propose without some measure of experience?
Which was the only explanation for what she did next. “Lord Smith has asked me to dance.”
All four men turned to her, her outburst clearly catching them by surprise.
Likely because they’d already forgotten her.
Lord Smith’s eyes were wide as she slipped her hand into his elbow despite the fact that he hadn’t offered it. “If you’ll excuse us.”
And then it was her turn to drag him across the floor.
