Midnight Angel (Stokehurst #1)(44)

“Stop it,” she muttered, trying to banish the vain thoughts. “‘Wisdom is more precious than rubies.’” When that didn't work, she struggled to recall other helpful verses. “‘Better is the poor that walketh in his uprightness.’ ‘Favor is deceitful and beauty is vain—’”

“Miss Billings?” Emma interrupted, staring at her quizzically. “Why are you talking to yourself?”

Tasia sighed. “I'm reminding myself of some important things. Here, one of your curls is escaping. Hold still.” She reached out to tuck Emma's rebellious locks back into place.

“Does it look all right now?”

“Perfect.” Tasia stood back and smiled in satisfaction. She and one of her housemaids had spent an hour on Emma's hair, pulling it in a loose sweep from her face, braiding the thick curls and pinning the ends underneath. Emma wore an ankle-length dress of pale green satin and white lace, trimmed at the waist with a dark green sash. After a laborious search, the gardener had brought what he declared to be the finest roses he had ever produced, with lush pink blossoms and an intoxicating fragrance. Mrs. Knaggs had helped to pin one at Emma's shoulder, one in her hair, and one at the waist of her dress. By the time they finished, Emma had glowed with pleasure, claiming she felt like a princess.

Emma's blue eyes sparkled as she hunted for a glimpse of her father through the window. “Papa said he would come here after he opened the ball with Lady Harcourt. He promised that next year I can have a children's ball, right here, while the adults dance in the big room.”

A new voice entered the conversation. “It won't be long before you're in the big room with the rest of us.”

Emma whirled around at her father's approach and posed extravagantly. “Look at me, Papa!”

Luke grinned, stopping to admire her. “My God. You're beautiful, Emma. You've turned into a young lady. A fine thing to do to your poor old father.” He reached out and caught her close for a moment. “You look like your mother tonight,” he murmured.

“Do I?” Emma asked, beaming. “Good.”

Tasia watched Stokehurst with his daughter. She steeled her spine against a sudden tremor as she remembered the moonlight on his black hair, and the warmth of his mouth. His body was elegant and powerful in the tailored black coat and white waistcoat. As if he sensed her keen interest, he glanced at her. Hastily Tasia looked away, a blush rising from her high collar.

“Good evening, Miss Billings,” he said blandly.

She didn't need to look at him to know there was a mocking gleam in his eyes. “My lord,” she replied under her breath.

Emma was in no mood to dally. “I've been waiting for hours to dance with you, Papa!”

He laughed at his daughter's impatience. “You have? Well, I'm going to waltz you back and forth until you complain about your aching feet.”

“Never,” Emma exclaimed. She placed one hand on his leather-bound wrist, just below the flashing hook, and rested the other on his shoulder. At first he whirled her in a vigorous romp, making Emma laugh. Then they settled into a smooth, graceful waltz. Stokehurst had obviously seen to it that his daughter had lessons, and had practiced with her.

A smile twitched at Tasia's lips, and she withdrew to the doorway, enjoying the sight.

“They're a remarkable pair, aren't they?” came Lady Harcourt's soft voice.

Tasia gave a start. Lady Harcourt was standing a few feet away. She wore a gown of pale yellow satin covered with tiny gold beads. The scooped neckline showed a hint of her deep cle**age, while the waist came to a scalloped point low on her hips. Several diamond and topaz combs glittered in her auburn hair, holding her loose braided chignon in place. Most spectacular of all was the necklace around her throat, a web of jeweled flowers with diamonds in the center.

“Good evening, Lady Harcourt,” Tasia murmured. “The ball seems to be a great success.”

“I haven't sought you out in order to talk about the ball. I'm sure you know exactly what I intend to say.”

Tasia shook her head. “I'm sure I don't, my lady.”

“Fine, then.” Iris fidgeted with the tassel that hung from her fan. “I don't mind being blunt. I've always believed in approaching a problem directly.”

“My lady, I would never wish to cause you the slightest problem.”

“Well, you have.” Iris stepped closer, staring at the distant figures of the Stokehursts as they waltzed at the far end of the gallery. “You are the problem, Miss Billings. Ultimately your presence here will bring pain and trouble for everyone: me, Emma, and especially Luke.”

Dismayed, Tasia stared at her without blinking. “I don't see how that's possible.”

“You're distracting Luke. You're leading him away from the thing that would bring him true happiness—companionship with one of his own kind. I understand him. I've known him for years, you see. I knew him back when Mary was alive. The relationship they shared was special—and I can give him something very close to that. I'm actually a rather nice woman, Miss Billings, in spite of what you may think.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I'm asking you to leave, for his sake. If you give a fig about him, you'll do as I ask. Leave Southgate Hall, and don't look back. I'll reward you well for it. Perhaps you would like to have this necklace I'm wearing.” Iris lifted the fall of jewels away from her skin, making them sparkle. “You never thought to have such riches, did you? Every gem is real. You'll be comfortable for the rest of your life with the money it will bring. You could buy a little cottage in the country, even hire a cook maid for yourself.”