Prince of Dreams (Stokehurst #2)(19)

An elderly gentleman near the front of the room spoke up. “Would Lady Stokehurst care to describe the nature of the revisions?”

Emma gave him a brisk nod, her shoulders relaxing a little. “Yes, sir. The manual gives a more detailed explanation of the procedures for making complaints about animal abuse. Certain evidence must be gathered at the time of an offense in order to conduct a successful prosecution. The public is well aware of the animals being abused in the streets…we've all seen horses beaten with whips, cudgels, or shovels; livestock mistreated on the way to market; stray dogs and cats being tormented. Many people are distressed by the cruelty they witness, but they don't know what they can do to stop it. The manual contains guidelines for recognizing an offense, and procedures for reporting criminals to the proper authorities.”

To Emma's surprise, Mr. Dowling asked a question. “Lady Stokehurst, what about the area of scientific experimentation? Does the manual mention the practice of vivisection?”

Emma shook her head regretfully. “The medical and scientific communities claim that they need to perform vivisections—the procedure of dissecting live animals—in order to further their knowledge. But they have no proof that it accomplishes anything, except to cause thousands of animals a cruel and painful death. I would have made mention of this subject in the manual, but there are no guidelines at present. We have no way of knowing which scientific practices are necessary and which ones are merely experiments in torture. Perhaps the members of the R.S.H.T.A. might consider it worthwhile to appoint a committee to study the situation…”

Emma would have continued, but something drew her eyes to the back of the room, a familiar flash of gold, a man's form swathed in dark clothes. It was Nikolas Angelovsky. Even at this distance, the amber shade of his eyes and hair was vivid. Confusion seized her. She was barely conscious of Lord Crowles's agreeable response to her previous suggestion, the motion being made and seconded. Somehow she managed to rip her gaze away from Nikolas. She handed the manuscript to the secretary of the club, who was waiting nearby. The men in her row stood politely as she made her way back to her seat.

The meeting lasted another hour. Emma kept her gaze pinned on the back of the chair in front of her, unable to concentrate. Somehow she resisted the temptation to glance back at Nikolas. He was here because he wanted something from her. That was the only explanation for this deliberate pursuit. Unease and anger tangled inside her. But…was it possible she also felt a flicker of pleasure? Nikolas was a handsome and powerful man. Many women would do anything to capture his attention just for a few minutes…and here he was, waiting for her.

As Lord Crowles's concluding remarks signaled the end of the meeting, the assemblage rose to leave. Emma made her way to the end of the row and found herself in the company of Mr. Dowling. A smile lurked in the depths of his dark eyes.

“Lady Stokehurst, I'm going to suggest to Lord Crowles that your name be included in the manual as recognition of the splendid work you've done.”

“Oh, no,” Emma said earnestly. “Thank you, but I haven't done all that much. And I don't want any sort of recognition. I just want the animals to be helped.”

“If I may say so, you're as modest as you are attractive, Lady Stokehurst.”

Confused and pleased, Emma lowered her gaze.

Mr. Dowling spoke again, this time on a more tentative note. “Lady Stokehurst, I was wondering if you would consider—”

“Cousin.” A soft Russian accent cut through the conversation. “How nice to find you here. But you seem to have lost your chaperone. You must allow me to see you back home safely.”

Emma's head snapped up, and she scowled at Nikolas, who knew perfectly well that she often discarded the basic etiquette of chaperones. It was one of the benefits of being eccentric. Realizing introductions were in order, she crossed her arms over her chest and gruffly did the honors. “Prince Nikolas Angelovsky, may I present Mr. Dowling.”

The men shook hands briefly. Nikolas turned a shoulder to Dowling, rudely indicating that the meeting was over. “You look very fine today, Emelia.”

Mr. Dowling hovered nearby, his eyes meeting with Emma's. She smiled apologetically. “Good day, Lady Stokehurst,” he said hesitantly. “My best wishes to you and your…family.” He eyed Nikolas uncertainly, clearly wondering if the blond Russian fit in that category. As he left, he seemed to fade away like a puff of smoke.

Emma glared at Nikolas. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm concerned about animal protection,” he said mildly.

“Like hell you are. This was a closed meeting. How did you get in?”

“I purchased a membership.”

“You can't buy a membership, you have to fill out papers and go through interviews, and then there's a committee vote—” She stopped abruptly. “You bribed your way in.”

“I made a donation,” he corrected.

Emma gave an exasperated laugh. “Is there anything your money can't get for you? What do you want now?”

“I intend to escort you home, cousin.”

“Thank you, but I have a carriage waiting outside.”

“I took the liberty of dismissing it.”

“Presumptuous man,” she said without heat, sliding her hand into the crook of his proffered arm. “Do you always get your way?”