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romantic and exciting…and so beyond
protocol. If our father had ever known…
    “You could,
of course, use this time to get ready!”
    “Ready for
what?” she shouted back at Nathaniel.
    “A ball, of
course. I will be escorting you fine ladies to Almack’s this evening.”
    Emily shook
her head. Almack’s ? Good Lord! What in heaven’s name am I
going to wear?
     
    * * * *
     
    “Oh, Lord Avonlea,
you are quite the dancer.” Lady Morton gushed all over him, her blush giving her
unladylike intentions away. “Do you think my mama would notice if we slipped
outside?”
    Her hand
wandered further down his chest. The Earl of Bridgeton cleared his throat as he
gently lifted it, holding it in his own for a moment. “My dear Miss Morton, while
you are making it abundantly clear you take me for some randy rogue, I will do
the honorable thing and depart once I have returned you to the company of your
mother. I assure you, your advances have not gone unnoticed. I do not have any
intention in misleading you to a courtship beyond this dance floor. Now, come
along, we should not tarry.”
    Your mother, after all, is potentially
waiting for us to be caught in some sort of moment of passion. And there is no
way in damnation I would entertain that thought in this lifetime, or the next.
    She started
to protest, but instead whimpered at his intentions made clear.
    He crossed
the floor and delivered the eager girl to her mother.
    “Did you
kids have a great dance?” her mother questioned the young Lady Morton, whilst
giving him a wary glance.
    “I did, Mama,
and he promised me another before the evening is out.”
    He opened
his mouth to correct Lady Morton when her mother cut the words from him. “Outstanding!
Lord Avonlea, you are beginning to exceed my expectations. Very well, you have
my permission to collect Elizabeth for the quadrille.”
    All Avonlea could
do was nod. He bowed and took his leave, heading in the direction of where the
other gentlemen waited for their ladies to finish chirping.
    That is when
he noticed the Marquess of Stoughton.
    Diverting
his course, he strode toward the seat next to Nathaniel. “It has been far too
long, Nathaniel. How are your marchioness and the offspring faring?”
    “It has. You
should stop by and see, or you can ask the marchioness yourself. I think I see
her heading this way with my sister. I am sure you remember Emily?”
    Avonlea gave
his chum a wry look. Nathaniel was not exactly known for his humor, but Avonlea
knew of his dry sense of fun. “Yes, I remember her. I was, after all, the one
who caught her in your library when she swooned, after the duke learned of his duchess’
fate.”
    “Ah! I hope
you do not plan on bringing up that business again?”
    “Absolutely
not, but I also hear he’s back in town. You would think he would have had
enough sensibility to leave London life behind. Do you think he’ll make an
appearance tonight?”
    The marquess snorted. “Here? At Almack’s ?
I think not. I am sure he would not dare set foot in here.”
    One could
not be too sure about that. The man had connections everywhere and would not
hesitate to pull out all the stops to get what he wanted. He did not possess an
ounce of scruples and did not give a farthing for the worth of a life. His
honor had come into question, too, after disappearing from the duel with
Nathaniel last year.
    Avonlea dreaded
the moment when he would have to address the duke the next time his grace was
present, and in his high opinion, he desperately hoped that would be no time
soon. As the ladies approached them, the singular, emerald vision before him
caught his breath.
    Fiery red
ringlets fell past Emily’s shoulders. Piercing blue eyes shimmered in the
candlelit ambiance of the room. Her gown accentuated her delicate size, and the
brilliant shade of green with a gold sash completed the heavenly image. Suddenly,
the earl longed to hold her again.
    Avonlea’s
blood rushed to his loins, need filling