Emily raced down the corridor. Devon had betrayed her. How could he? Pain knifed through her. Light from the ballroom spilled into the hallway up ahead. She halted, vision blurred by tears and forced back gasping inhalations. Heaven help her if her crying transformed into sobs. With trembling hands, she smoothed down her skirt, fluffed her ruffles, and patted errant strands of hair. At last, she took a fortifying breath, then slipped into the crowded ballroom to retake her place in the emptiness near her mother.

Mother didn’t appear to have noticed her absence, so intent was she on her conversation with the viscountess. Tears threatened again. Emily squeezed her eyes shut. How could Devon have gone from a young man who wouldn’t kiss her without declaring his intentions to her father, to a rake who lurked in libraries waiting for unsuspecting young women?

“So?” Prudence’s smug demand brought Emily’s eyes open.

Fury swept through her. “How dare you send me there to be…” Emily halted, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “To be kissed? What sort of cruel game is that, Prudence?”

Gathered close on either side of them, Fanny and Liza exchanged startled looks.

Prudence frowned. “Kissed? I have no idea what you mean. You were to go and come back, likely getting in trouble with your mama.” Prudence gestured toward Emily’s mother. “But she didn’t even notice.”

“I was set upon,” Emily hissed.

“By whom? Who would dare enter the Viscount Millview’s library?”

“The viscount.” Emily frothed with anger. Prudence played a cruel game, even for a schoolmate prank.

Fanny gasped.

Liza’s hands flew to her mouth.

Prudence’s jaw fell open. “The viscount was in the library?”

Emily took in the three shocked faces. Her anger started to cool under their incredulity. “You didn’t know he would be?”

Prudence shook her head, vexation twisting her pinched features.

Fanny snorted. “If she’d known, she would have gone there to be kissed.”

“Did you really kiss him?” Liza asked.

“Did Fanny really kiss a duke to learn some secret words?” Emily countered.

All three shook their heads.

“It was all a lie?”

They nodded.

“Do you...” Emily wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but her lingering anger drove her on. “Do you send everyone who’s new off to the library?”

Prudence’s lips pressed into a firm line, her expression darkening.

“She plays some trick on them,” Liza offered. “Spills punch on their hem, starts rumors about them being foolish enough to kiss a frog in hopes they’ll get a prince. Sends them off into the house so they get in trouble with their mamas.”

“Not the library before, though,” Fanny added. She held up a hand, ticking off on her fingers as she continued, “The veranda, the garden, the fountain, the conservatory, the—”

“Enough,” Prudence broke in.

Emily pressed fingers to her suddenly aching forehead. Devon didn’t wait in the library to kiss women. How could she think he would? He was right, she did know him. She knew him nearly as well as she knew herself, and right now, she liked him even better.

How could she not see his sincerity? The joy in his eyes when he beheld her, the pain when he spoke of disappointing her? Those weren’t lies.

But she knew how. She’d thought to forgive him his years of bandying about. She knew most men did the same. To hear him confess it, though, even without detail, hurt. She loved him so much, she’d never been tempted by another man, and he’d been out…out…

“Emily?” Prudence’s tone held worry now. “Are you unwell?”

“She’s gone white as a bedsheet,” Liza said.

“Maybe we should bring her some punch?”

“No.” Emily tried to draw in a steadying breath, but agony squeezed her lungs. “No, I’m perfectly well.” Her chest rose and fell with her rapid gasps. Dizziness assailed her. Her rejection of Devon rang in her ears.

“You don’t look well,” Fanny said.

Emily shook her head, wishing they would leave her be. She’d turned Devon away, for what? Because he’d been young and foolish? Wasn’t she being foolish, holding his mistakes against him when he was all she’d ever wanted? He said he’d given up his rakish ways. All evidence pointed to such. She hadn’t seen his name in the scandal sheets since coming to London, and he’d been throwing balls. What sort of rake threw balls?

Emily covered her face with her hands. He must hate her now. What if she’d driven him away, back to his evil friends? He bared his heart, said they would marry, and she called him a devil and ran off. Could that be undone?

She’d squandered her one chance of happiness because of fear and jealousy. All she wanted to do was sink down onto the hard marble floor and weep.

Liza gasped. The room seemed almost to ripple with interest. Emily lowered her hands. The other young women’s attentions focused on something behind her. Dread filling her, Emily turned.

Devon stalked across the ballroom, followed by both of their mothers. Emily spared only a glance for their beaming smiles. Her world centered on Devon.

He wore his tailcoat now, the shimmering green vest a bright splash under the black. His cravat was tied, impeccably, and somehow she knew he’d seen to it himself. His face was a cold mask, but his hazel eyes burned into her.

Devon’s long strides quickly outdistanced the women following him. The three surrounding her melted back, Liza with an audible gulp. Devon stopped abruptly before Emily. His eyes flicked to the other women, then back to her.

“Sending your friends away from the devil, Miss Green?” he grated out, bowing.

Emily shook her head. Her throat was dry. She swallowed convulsively and dropped a curtsey, agonizingly aware of the pain behind his hard exterior. She’d caused that pain and it lanced through her like a living thing. “Devon, I—”

“It’s Viscount Millview. We are in public. Not that we shall ever be otherwise.”

Emily opened her mouth, shocked by the hollow coldness in his voice. She drew her trembling lips closed. Despair bloomed under his glare.

“My mother has ordered me to dance with you,” Devon said. He extended a hand.

“The first dance?” Emily’s voice came out a squeak.

“She doesn’t realize, I imagine, that you have a strong aversion to my company.”

He glowered down at her, his features clouded with pain, his long form taut. She’d done this to him. She’d changed him from the warm, loving companion of their youth into the devil she accused him of being. She had to bring her Devon back before the pain of it killed her and ruined him.

She managed to whisper, “I don’t have an aversion to your company.”

Devon blinked. He dropped his hand to his side. A murmur rippled through the ballroom. Even Emily wasn’t small enough to avoid notice when standing beside the towering viscount.

“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing the words out when he didn’t speak. “I behaved like a fool. I was jealous, and resentful, and…and a fool.”

Still, he stared at her, unmoving, unspeaking, his gaze hooded.

Was she wrong? Was he a rogue after all? Her knees felt weak. The pain of losing him made her faint. The room tilted.

He held out his hand again, his expression softening. “Emily, I didn’t mean to hurt you. My intention was to apologize. Perhaps I am not as clever with words as I ought to be.”

“You were clear and honest, and I was petty and silly.” She placed an unsteady hand in his.

“You were hurt.”

“I was.” She looked down at his strong hand, encompassing hers. Her face heated with the memory of his long fingers wrapped about her waist.

“Are you still hurt?” he asked, his voice pitched low.

“I won’t lie, I may be. I don’t like to think of you ever touching another woman the way I dream of you touching me.” Her face grew even hotter. She cursed her fair skin, for the whole room must see her blushing and wonder what they said to each other.

Indeed, the murmuring about them swelled. She dared to look up at him, worried she’d shocked him, but she didn’t regret speaking the truth. This was likely her final chance with Devon. Her heart would break if she lost him.

“I could never touch another woman the way I would you,” he murmured. “No other woman is like you, Emily Green, and no other has ever, will ever, know my love.”

Emily’s breath caught. She hadn’t ruined everything. She took a step closer, reached for his other hand, and ignored the gasps in the crowd. “Devon, if you kiss me right now, I’ll know all is forgiven. I’ll know you love me and will marry me.”

A slow smile curved his lips.