The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(13)

“Oh, your grace, I didn’t think you’d remember!” She swatted him playfully with her fan and chuckled again. “She’s fine, out exploring in France, I’m afraid. She’ll be sad to have missed you.”

“Pity.” He shook his head longingly. “I should have liked to discuss her recent art work. Does she have anymore I could take off her hands, by chance?”

Lady Walters beamed. “His grace is too kind. Yes, I will have it sent to you straight away.”

“Excellent. Shall we?” He turned toward Emma and grasped her gloved hand again.

****

Each time they stopped by another couple, Emma felt more and more at ease. Her original assumption of the duke’s character was sound. He was an angel. Albeit a fallen-looking one. Nonetheless he treated everyone with respect and in return he was adored.

Her stomach did a tiny flip-flop as she noticed him pick up a tiny girl and swing her in his arms.

“Your grace! Your grace!” she squealed, throwing her head back. “Again!”

Her mother stepped forward. “I’m sure his grace has many more things to get to tonight, Laura.” The girl pouted then pulled Sebastian’s face down to hers and kissed it.

Was that envy Emma felt in the pit of her stomach or something much worse? Flares of attraction continued to invade her as she looked for the quickest escape route. The man was charming, attractive, and sinfully charismatic. She needed to get away and fast, before she started begging like Laura.

“Dance with me,” he said next to her.

She had just turned to walk away from him. But it was too late. Now she was caught. Her chest tightened. Oh, how she wanted to dance. She hadn’t danced since the incident, unable to bring herself to relive it again. Best she keep the desire and memories locked away forever then deal with what had happened so long ago.

“I do not dance, your grace.”

Breaking free of his hand, she quickly moved through the crowd. Spying her prey by the refreshment table, a smile formed on her lips.

“Sara!”

Her cousin whirled around. “Goodness, Emma, you gave me a fright. Where’s Sebastian.”

A masculine laughter shook behind her. “Oh, preying on young women as usual. Only this one managed to run away from me without an explanation of why she rejected my offer to dance.”

Sara’s punch shook in her hand as she struggled for composure. “You see, your grace, Emma hasn’t yet been introduced to Lady Fenton, it has been years since they have seen one another.”

“That’s right!” Emma cut in. “I hope she won’t be put out that I have waited this long to say hello. Of course you understand, don’t you your grace? One simply cannot greet family members when in Town.” She winked and again walked off, leaving a confused duke behind.

That was close, she thought then promptly bumped into a man.

“I’m so sorry, my lord.” She met his eyes and froze.

It was like looking into the face of a predator. A large, menacing predator. The air whooshed out of her lungs in one fast heave. Staring back at her was Lord Phillip Rawlings, the sole heir of the deceased Lord Rawlings and the only other person besides Emma’s family who knew of the incident that had happened so long ago.

Memories of that night came flooding back. Rawlings had torn the marriage contract in half, and with it every last shred of hope Emma had left. He was a few years older than Emma and had been not only her friend, but her future husband. But that was before the incident. Afterwards, his father had told him he could never pursue someone with such a soiled reputation or wanton ideas. Emma hadn’t cared much for marriage at the time. After all, she was still so young, as was Rawlings. But the devastation that a once loyal friend would also turn on her had been heartbreaking.

Breathtakingly handsome, his whole attitude toward her downfall had been rather selfish. Never once did he ask for her side or care to hear it. The day after she’d been ruined, he took off for London, but not before publicly denouncing their association and friendship.

Rawlings’ reputation was anything but spotless. Last she heard, he had been after Sara himself before Nicholas beat him to it. Yet another reason Emma envied men. They had no consequences for their actions. Rakes were to be praised, yet if a woman was caught in a compromising position, she was thrown out without a trial, with nothing except the job of picking up the broken pieces.

No, the only thing men worried about was money. Something Rawlings definitely had loads of, unless he had gambled away his entire fortune, which was highly unlikely.

“Ah, Miss Gates, it has been a long time, hasn’t it? Might I say you look positively delightful.” Lord Rawlings bowed over her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. The touch of his lips threatened to send her into hysterics. Rawlings had the power to destroy her with one word. The gentry had no idea the real story or her background. Her parents, with the help of the Rawlings family, had spun a tale about her wanting to spend time with her ailing grandmother before having a season. Never mind that her grandmother was as healthy as an ox.

Playing calm, her lips managed a smile, though speech would be impossible, given her inability to string any sort of thought together.

“Allow me to introduce my half brother John.”

Emma’s eyes fluttered to the man on Rawlings’ left. There was something vaguely familiar about his large hands and square nose. His eyes held no brightness. Naturally a woman interested in predatory men would find him handsome. Emma found him frightening and not at all safe. In fact both men seemed like they were spawns of the devil himself. Rawlings had changed, and not for the better. His gaze rested again on Emma. It seemed he wanted to say something, when he suddenly froze and, in place of his smile, a cool mask of indifference formed across his face.