Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(59)

Emmaline followed Sophie’s focus. Why was Sophie staring at Sebastian? Her friend must have taken note of Sebastian’s lethal black stare.

The urge was even stronger to find Drake in the crowd, but Emmaline continued to resist. “I assure you Drake is merely annoyed by my presence.” Emmaline remembered his detachedness in Hyde Park earlier that day. He might as well have been one of the stone statues that graced her mother’s gardens. Anything else her friend read in his response was fanciful thinking.

“Are you certain of that?” Sophie’s question jerked Emmaline back to the moment.

“I couldn’t be more…”

“Because he is headed this way.”

Against better judgment, she sought him out. Drake cut a swath across the room, right to the seat she occupied.

Oh God, why is he doing this? Didn’t he know she was going to collapse in a heap of despair at the feet of Society?

She and Sophie scrambled to their feet and dipped matching curtsies.

Drake bowed. “Lady Emmaline,” he said without even the pretense of niceties for Sophie’s sake. “I would like to request the next set.”

Emmaline swallowed and attempted to muster her earlier indignation. “I’m afraid my card is full, my lord,” she lied. She clutched her card close so he couldn’t see the void of names.

He held out his arm, as if daring her to refuse. “I am certain some gentleman would be more than willing to forgive my boldness in stealing his set.”

What kind of weak ninny was she that she wanted to take his arm and grant his request? For in spite of what had come to pass, she wanted to be in his arms.

A booming voice laden with false sincerity interrupted Emmaline’s musings. “Lord Drake, so good to see you.”

Emmaline and Drake turned in unison.

Sophie jumped up.

Drake passed a black glare over her brother. “Mallen.”

Sophie shifted on her feet. “Your Grace.” She remembered to dip a curtsy.

Sebastian paused and then seemed to remember the years of gentlemanly behavior drilled into him. He bowed. “How are you this evening, Miss Winters?”

“I’m—.”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he slung an arm around Drake’s shoulder, neatly steering him from Emmaline.

“Well,” Sophie muttered in his wake.

Emmaline hurried after the two gentlemen, fearing they would come to blows.

Drake shrugged off Sebastian good-naturedly and spoke through his teeth. “If you put a hand on me again, Mallen, by God, I swear I will lay you out in front of this entire room.”

“Sebastian, do not cause a scene,” Emmaline hissed.

Sebastian hesitated momentarily, seeming to consider the measure of Drake’s threat and Emmaline’s words. “I want you to stay away from my sister.”

Drake’s jaw hardened. “She is no longer a girl. She hardly needs you to dictate her actions—”

For the tons benefit, she playfully tapped Sebastian on the arm with her fan. “I’m standing right here, gentlemen.”

Sebastian ignored her. “Ahh, but I’m not dictating her actions. I’m dictating yours. I said stay away from her.”

“Mallen, I faced down a squadron of soldiers firing at me. It will take a great deal more than you to intimidate me,” Drake drawled lazily. This time he thumped Sebastian between the shoulder blades. “I bid you good evening, Mallen.” He turned his attention to Emmaline as he favored her with a last, hot, lingering look.

Emmaline’s breath caught. She would always love him.

The moment was shattered by Sebastian. “Oh, Drake, one more thing?”

No, Emmaline screamed silently. She wanted to take back what she’d said to both Drake and Sebastian. She wanted to find a way to start again.

Drake raised a single, insolent golden brow.

“I’d like to request a meeting tomorrow morning, at nine o’clock. I’m sure you have an idea as to what it’s about.”

Emmaline’s eyes slid closed on a wave of pain and when she opened them, Drake had already left.





Chapter 27

My Dearest Drake,

I have begun to fear there was merit to my parents’ suspicions that you left because of our betrothal. My brother used to tell me such thoughts were foolish. He has since stopped protesting. Regardless…I hope you do not come to harm because of me.

Ever Yours,

Emmaline

Emmaline stood hidden by an enormous Doric column in her brother’s foyer. She rested her forehead against the hard, cool stone and trailed a finger over the ridges. How long had she been waiting? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years?

A loud resounding knock bounced off the front doors. Even though she’d been expecting it, she jumped. Her heart thumped wildly and she folded her arms to her chest, making herself as small as possible.

From her hiding spot, she peeked out from behind the structure.

The expressionless butler, Carmichael, opened the door and admitted an ever regal, handsome Lord Drake. The black flowing fabric of his elegant cloak swirled around his legs.

Drake handed the servant a card. “His Grace is expecting me.”

Carmichael assisted him out of his cloak and handed it to a nearby servant.

The butler motioned for Lord Drake to follow. “Right this way, my lord.” Emmaline watched him go. His boots tapped methodically on the marble floor. Then he froze, and suddenly whipped back around.