Chapter Two
“Meg, I’ve been looking for you,” the Duchess of Abernathe said, rather too loudly. She slugged down another gulp of her drink before she hiccupped.
Meg’s face had now lost all color, and she stepped forward. “Mother, I thought we talked about how much you would have to drink tonight,” she whispered with a quick look toward Emma.
Emma’s eyes went wide at this entirely unexpected development. Indeed, the duchess did look deep in her cups. Her eyes were bleary and her body swung.
“You aren’t my mother, Margaret Elizabeth Elinor Rylon,” the duchess slurred. “You can’t tell me what to do while you sit on that high horse of yours.”
A few in the crowd close to them were beginning to stare and Meg clutched at her mother’s arm. “Please lower your voice.”
“Embarrassed, are you?” the duchess hiccupped again.
Emma stared. No lady she knew would make such a scene at a ball, of all things. She had no idea what to do. She could turn away so that Meg wouldn’t have to be even more embarrassed, but then she’d leave the other woman to deal with the situation herself. She knew how horrible it could be to have others watch you, talk about you.
She shivered at the thought, and in that moment she made a decision.
“Your Grace,” she said with a bright smile. “You may not know me, but I’m Emma Liston, a friend of your daughter’s. We were about to go to the retiring room to rest a moment. Perhaps you would like to join us.”
Meg jerked her face toward Emma and she nodded slightly as if to encourage her. “Yes, Mother. The retiring room is just the place.”
The duchess looked entirely confused as Meg removed the glass from her mother’s hand, set it aside and then she and Emma each took one of her arms. They began to lead her through the crowd, holding her up as she stumbled in her growing stupor.
“Don’t fall,” Emma heard Meg whispering through clenched teeth. “Oh, please, don’t fall and let them see.”
Emma was flooded with a sense of empathy for the other woman. She understood what it was like to have a parent who humiliated her. She understood the fear that engrained, the anxiety. Only it was her father who did it to her, rather than her mother.
She caught a glimpse of a few in the crowd staring and cleared her throat. “Oh yes, Your Grace, it is dreadfully hot, isn’t it? The retiring room will be just the place to recover your senses.”
Meg shot her yet another grateful look as those in the crowd went back to what they were doing. But as they exited the room, Meg looked over her shoulder. Emma didn’t know what she was doing, so focused was she on keeping the duchess upright, but within moments of them exiting the ballroom and going into the hall toward the little chamber where the ladies went to rest, there were heavy footsteps behind them.
Emma glanced over her shoulder and her heart nearly stopped as she saw the Duke of Abernathe at her very heel. His usually bright and confident expression had been replaced with one of concern.
“Meg,” he said softly.
Emma’s heart skipped without her wishing it to have that reaction. He had such a deep, resonating voice, one that hit her in the stomach and then trailed little flutters even lower.
An entirely inappropriate reaction when she was dragging his drunken mother away from the eyes of Society. She pushed the reaction away and refocused.
“Yes,” Meg said, answering a question he hadn’t asked.
He frowned as he opened the retiring room door and allowed Meg, Emma and the dowager to enter. It was empty, thank goodness, and Emma and Meg helped the duchess to a settee where she collapsed, grinning up at them.
“I like your friend, Meg,” she slurred. “Gemma, you may not be a great beauty, but you have spark.”
Meg gasped. “Mother! Enough.” She turned to face Emma. “I’m so sorry.”
Emma reached out to take Meg’s hand, trying desperately to ignore Abernathe as he stood at the door to the room, arms folded, gaze focused on the little show before him. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I-I should leave you. But I hope your mother feels better.”
Meg blinked at tears and nodded. “Yes, thank you again for your help, your kindness, Emma.”
Emma squeezed her hand and then turned toward the door. Abernathe was staring at her now, his dark gaze focused on her face as she took a few hesitant steps toward him.
“Y-Your Grace,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
He nodded at her. “Thank you, Miss…”
He trailed off and she whispered, “Liston, Emma Liston.”
“Miss Liston,” he said.
Then his focus was gone, back to the family drama unfolding on the fainting couch across the room. Emma left them, shutting the door behind her and leaned against it, trying to catch her breath.
What had just happened was certainly not what she expected as she entered the ball tonight. Somehow she had involved herself with one of the most powerful families in Society. Somehow she’d come to know a secret about them.
Now she could only hope it wouldn’t come back to haunt her.
James scowled as he watched his carriage pull away from the drive. Deep, abiding anger pulsed within him as he turned back toward Meg, who was standing in the foyer, face pale and pinched.
How he hated to see her that way. It brought back memories from their childhood. Memories of taking care of their mother on dozens of nights when she’d lost herself like this. Memories of Meg’s pained face when their father had ignored or chastised her. They’d only ever really had each other to rely on. When she was hurt, James felt as though he’d failed her somehow.
“I should have gone with her,” Meg said.
James shook his head. “Mother had Miss Watson with her,” he said, referring to their mother’s lady’s companion. “And she was so apologetic that she allowed Mother to drink too much, I’m certain she will take good care of her.”
“Your carriage may not survive the trip home,” Meg mused, though her tone was anything but humorous.
“It can be cleaned if she casts up her accounts,” he said with another frown. “Are you all right?”
“She hasn’t made a scene in public like that in years,” Meg whispered. “Thank God Miss Liston was there. She helped me enormously.”
James nodded as he thought of Emma Liston. He’d seen her before at these things, though he had to admit she’d never caught his eye. He generally turned his attention toward showy women, ones who played along with the games of Society.
Miss Liston was a wallflower. He knew that about her. Her brown hair and her slender frame weren’t the kind of physical attributes he normally swung toward when he felt like flirting. But there had been one thing about her that had stood out. She had blue-green eyes. He’d never seen a color quite like them before. Lovely eyes.
“Is she the kind who would talk?” he asked, drawing his mind back to the matter at hand. “That little scene Mother created could easily gain a woman like that some interest if she chose to share it.”
Meg wrinkled her brow. “I don’t think so. I admit, I don’t know her very well, but there was nothing but kindness in the way she handled it. She even took the attention off Mother as we were moving through the crowd.”
James nodded slowly. “Then we owe her our thanks. But please don’t let Mother ruin your night, Meg. Go dance with Graham.”
Meg stiffened ever so slightly. “Northfield doesn’t care to dance, you know that.”
James frowned. “Then dance with Simon. He’s always up for a turn.”
Meg turned her face away a moment. “Very well, I shall see if Simon will dance. But only if you make me a promise.”
“What is that?” he asked, smiling at her. “You know it is almost impossible for me to refuse you.”
“Almost,” she repeated with a small smile of her own. “Will you dance with Emma?”
“Meg—” he began.
She lifted her eyebrow in accusation. “After what she just did to help us, you would refuse her? Honestly, James, it’s a dance. You know if you do it, her card will likely fill for the night. We owe her that, don’t we?”
He nodded slowly. “Very well, I shall dance with Miss Emma Liston. At the very least, it will give me a chance to determine if she will say anything about Mother’s…state tonight.”
Meg frowned as they two of them fell into step back toward the ballroom. “If you need an ulterior motive, then by all means, James.”
He caught her arm before she moved into the crowd to find Simon. “Save one for me, too, will you?”
The tightness in his sister’s face faded and she leaned up to kiss his cheek lightly. “Always.”
She turned away and moved into the crowd, leaving James standing at the edge of the room. He looked into the milling group of people, all dressed in their finery. Right now, after that scene with his mother, he wanted nothing more than to go home to his bed.
But he had a part to play and a promise to keep to his sister. So he stepped out into the crowd to find Emma Liston. He did so quickly enough. She was standing in the corner, at the wall, her face taut with emotion. He set his shoulders back as he made his way across the room toward her.
The closer he got, the more he paid attention to her. It wasn’t just her eyes that were pretty. She had a fine mouth, as well, with full lips. Lips that parted when she turned her head to find him coming toward her.
She straightened up as he reached her. “Y-Your Grace,” she stammered.
“Miss Liston,” he said with a nod of his head. “I wondered if you’d like to have a dance with me, if your card is not already full.”
She stiffened at that statement and a guard lifted between them. Her tone became cool as she said, “This dance is open, yes.”
He held out an arm and she hesitated slightly before she slid her slender hand into the crook of his elbow. He was surprised by the shock of awareness that crackled through him at the action. He felt every single one of her fingers against his body, smelled a faint scent of lilac from her hair, heard the swish of her skirt as it brushed his leg.
He blinked. He was on edge if he was noticing such things. He pushed them away and guided her to the dancefloor for the first waltz of the evening. Immediately, he felt dozens of pairs of eyes swing toward them and a ripple went through the crowd.
Miss Liston seemed to notice it, too, for she stumbled in the first step and he tightened his grip of her to keep her from falling.
She looked up apologetically. “I don’t often waltz,” she explained.
He ignored the statement as they turned through the crowd. “You were a great help with the…situation with my mother tonight,” he said softly.
Her lips parted again in surprise and he had a flash of a moment where he wondered what they would taste like. He shook his head again to clear his mind. Damn, but he was rattled by his mother’s actions.
“Everyone gets overheated from time to time at a ball,” Miss Liston said carefully. “I was happy to be of assistance. I hope she is feeling better.”
“She is going home,” he said. “And we both know she wasn’t merely overheated.”
She swallowed hard and looked up to meet his gaze. Once again he was struck by how stunning her eyes were. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such a combination of blue and green before.
“If anyone asked me,” she said slowly, “that would be what I would tell them. It is all I recall, at any rate.”
He wrinkled his brow at her reassurance, kindly made and somehow unexpected. “If you said something else, it might bring you a little renown.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Please don’t presume you know me well enough to believe I would trade renown for someone else’s reputation, Your Grace. I didn’t help your sister or your mother in order to gain something from the act. There is decency without price in this world. If you do not know that, I am sorry for you.”
James arched a brow at her heated response. When she was emotional, she was far more animated and a blush crept into her cheeks and down her neck, disappearing into the bust of her gown.
“I apologize, Miss Liston,” he said, inclining his head. “I did not mean to imply that you would be mercenary. Truly.”
Her expression softened a touch. “I’m sure there are some who might be. I’m simply not one of them.”
“Then we are lucky you were the friend my sister was with,” he said. “And once again, I thank you.”
“Your sister is lovely,” Miss Liston said, looking over his shoulder into the crowd of other dancers.
When he turned her, he saw that Meg was dancing with Simon. She was smiling and laughing, and his heart got lighter seeing it.
“She is, indeed,” he said. “She likes you.”
The music had begun to slow and Miss Liston looked up at him with wide eyes. “Does she? I cannot imagine why. We do not have anything in common.”
He laughed at her candor, even if he didn’t believe her words. “You are both clever. And clearly you are both kind. That is the foundation of many a friendship, Miss Liston.”
The music stopped and he bowed to her, then offered her a hand to escort her from the floor. When they reached the edge, he swept the cloak of his personality around him and said, “It was a great pleasure to dance with you, Miss Liston. I hope you will allow me the pleasure again.”
To his surprise, she didn’t titter as other women might have. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest like a shield and pressed those surprisingly full lips together until they were a tight line.
“Your Grace, we both know this was a pity dance, thrown at me as some kind of reward for my help. And clearly it was also a way to determine if I would use whatever I saw tonight against you. Please don’t pretend it was something more. I understand the way the world works.”
He drew back. “You are direct.”
Panic flooded her face and she shifted with discomfort. “Well, a woman of my position must be practical and not allow herself to get swept away by foolish notions.”
“Like that I could have actually enjoyed dancing with you?” he asked with a slight smile. “It is so hard for you to believe.”
She shrugged. “I’m not exactly in your sphere, Your Grace.”
“Miss Liston, whether you believe it or not, I did truly enjoy my time with you,” he said, and was surprised to find he actually meant those words. Normally when he danced with ladies, he went through the motions, trying to be polite while he awaited escape. This dance had been different. Emma Liston was…interesting.
She bent her head. “Well, I…I…thank you. Now I should go find my mother. Good night, Your Grace.”
He inclined his head. “Good night, Emma.”
She stiffened at the use of her given name, but she didn’t correct him before she turned away and rushed off through the crowd, leaving James alone to watch her. And watch her he did, until she vanished into the crowd and left him entirely confused by their encounter.