Chapter Thirty-One
Emily
The ball was in full swing when Emily finally came down the stairs.
Her heart was a thousand times heavier than she could have ever thought possible. Smoothing a gloved hand down the front of her violet shade, silk ballgown, Emily blew out a steadying breath in hopes of calming her jangled nerves.
Her lady’s maid, Mary, had returned from London only two hours before bearing news which was far from ideal.
Although Penelope was now safely hidden away in the Curzon Street town home, it was now a solution fraught with danger.
It seemed Simon was purchasing the town home from her parents.
As Mary understood it from the Curzon Street butler’s explanation, the funds from the sale would be relayed into Emily’s dowry accounts.
It was not yet final, as Lord Blackthorne still had not signed off on the transaction, but the sale was progressing rapidly.
In fact, Simon was already planning some minor renovations to the residence with a renowned architect on standby to oversee the project.
Which meant Penelope could only stay there until Simon took possession. Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting off the headache threatening to take over. She wondered if Wylder knew of the sale, then realized her father must have surely informed him of it during the marriage negotiations.
And Simon was likely paying a pretty bit of coin for the property. Those funds would become part of Emily’s dowry, which Wylder could certainly use to restore his own estates. No, none of that truly concerned her. The real problem lay in the fact that Penelope would soon require a new hiding spot.
“I’ll worry about it later,” Emily muttered to herself. “Once Wylder and I are wed, I shall convince him that he must help Penelope. She’ll be out of that house before Simon ever takes up residency there.”
Entering the ballroom, Emily found her mother standing with Lady Bashear. Gritting her teeth, she approached the two women with a sweet smile plastered on her face.
“There you are, my darling.” Lady Blackthorne smiled at her daughter. “With your gloves on, no one can even notice the bandaging.”
“Yes, Mother,” Emily replied. “It doesn’t even really hurt anymore. Just a slight ache now and then. Mary helped with applying some cold compresses before wrapping it tonight.”
“Very good, dear,” her mother said, examining Emily’s features for any sign of discomfort.
“I’m glad she made it back from London in time to assist you tonight.
” She tsked suddenly, her mouth forming a moue of disappointment.
“I do wish Penelope had not taken ill and was forced to miss the ball. Poor dear.”
Emily simply nodded before addressing Lady Bashear. “My lady, are you enjoying the ball to honor Lord and Lady Ashcroft? Mother has certainly done an excellent job arranging it all. I’m sure it will be the social event of the season.”
“Oh, certainly,” the lady said, waving an ornate fan to stir the air around her face. “Lord and Lady Ashcroft are to dance the first waltz of the evening. Is that right, Lady Blackthorne?”
“Yes, the first waltz.” Lady Blackthorne sighed, holding a hand to her heart. “They are such a lovely couple. It’s a shame Lord Ashcroft’s parents could not attend, but apparently Her Grace was feeling poorly and could not make the trip.”
“I’m sure Lady Ashcroft is disappointed by their absence. It’s said the duke and duchess are quite fond of their new daughter-in-law and she of them,” Lady Bashear commented.
Lady Blackthorne clapped her hands as the musicians in the balcony began strumming the beginning strains of the evening’s first waltz. “Oh, it’s time for the evening’s highlight!”
The entire ballroom fell into a reverent hush as Simon led Charlotte into the middle of the gleaming ballroom floor. Great, crystal-laden chandeliers illuminated the space in an ethereal glow as the evening’s honorees faced each other.
Simon bent at the waist in an elegant bow as Charlotte sank into a perfect, gracefully executed curtsey.
Then, taking his wife’s hand, Simon swung her into the intricate steps of the dance.
Their movements were perfectly in tune with one another as guests murmured amongst themselves how lovely the new couple was and how attentive the earl was to his new bride.
Emily watched wistfully, her heart aching at the beauty of the scene. It truly resembled something out of a fairytale, and she eagerly anticipated her own waltz with Wylder once they were wed.
Glancing about the ballroom, Emily let out a sigh of exasperation when her eyes landed on her brother.
He stood off to the side of the ballroom near the open terrace doors, and his handsome features were screwed into a scowl.
When he noticed her, his scowl deepened as Emily’s hands curled into twin balls of frustration.
On the opposite side of the ballroom near the refreshment table was Patrick Bashear.
The gentleman’s brown eyes lit up with anticipation when he spied Emily, his grin widening.
He immediately had a second cup of ratafia poured and began strolling in Emily’s direction.
With a groan of dread, Emily turned to her mother with a bright smile.
“I have spied Simon, Mother, by the terrace doors. I must speak with him. If you will both excuse me?”
“Be kind to him, dear,” Lady Blackthorne murmured.
Leaning forward to embrace her daughter, her words were for Emily’s ears only.
“He had made it very clear that he does not sanction a marriage between you and Wyldewood. His reasons, however, are his own and have no bearing on the decision your father and I have made.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Emily gratefully nodded. Dipping a slight curtsey to Lady Bashear, she hurried away, eager to confront her brother and avoid the attentions of Patrick.
In addition to the guests staying at Thorne Park, local gentry were also in attendance, as well as many of the ton with their own country houses nearby.
There were easily close to two hundred guests enjoying the evening’s festivities.
The sheer number of people helped her evade Patrick and she sighed with relief when she finally reached Simon.
“Simon Blackthorne,” Emily scolded as he took a sip of champagne. He steadfastly refused to look at her. “You’ve avoided me since I was deposited safely in my bed. Why on earth have you done that? What’s gotten into you?”
Simon’s dark-blue eyes swept the ballroom as if looking for someone before settling on her. His jaw tightened, a muscle clenching there as his gaze flicked to her injured wrist.
“Why have you not checked on me yourself?” Emily demanded in exasperation. “Are you so angry that Wyldewood came to my rescue that you ignored my well-being?”
“I’m glad to see you are feeling well, Emily.
But yes, I am furious that Father granted Wyldewood permission to marry you, despite my numerous objections.
And you have capitulated to the earl’s demands,” he muttered, his expression stony and unforgiving.
Dark hair tumbled over his brow as though he’d raked his hands through it numerous times.
It pained Emily’s heart to see her brother in such a state of distress when there was no cause for it.
Looking about to ensure no one overheard their conversation, Emily admitted, “It’s true.
I have accepted Wylder’s offer of marriage.
I love him very much, Simon. I always have.
” She rested a gloved hand on his arm, her smile beseeching.
“This is what I’ve always wanted. Why can you not accept the fact that Wylder and I belong together? ”
“You have no idea what kind of man he is, Emily.”
Taking hold of Simon’s coat sleeve, she quickly dragged him out onto the open terrace. He followed without protest, but Emily suspected that no matter her arguments on the subject, he would not be swayed from his position. He truly believed Wylder was wrong for her.
“You are wrong, Simon.” Emily glared at him.
Simon had always possessed a stubborn nature.
She felt a twinge of pity for whoever his future wife might be.
The woman was sure to face her brother’s obstinate nature on a regular basis.
The sounds of the ballroom drifted on the cool evening breeze.
It was only a matter of time before other guests began using the terrace, and this momentary privacy was lost. She sighed heavily, determined to convince him she knew what she was doing.
“I do know, and I love Wylder for who he is. He is intelligent and strong. Surprisingly kind, and even gentle at times. Honorable. Loyal. So loyal, in fact, that rather than betray you, he did as you asked and ignored his own heart. That’s the type of man he is.
A man that you should be glad your sister will marry. ”
“There are things about him that you do not know. Things I hope you never do,” Simon snapped, his face turning red as he broached this sensitive subject. “His… sexual appetites…”
“They do not frighten me,” Emily stated firmly.
“And those intimate moments between me and Wylder are none of your concern.” Her head cocked as she regarded Simon with such solemness that he finally looked away from her intense stare.
“Oh, Simon. Do you honestly believe I’m unaware of what Wylder desires of a woman?
Of course, I know because I asked him and he explained in great detail just what he expects of me.
So, while you may be embarrassed by this rather frank discussion, you must understand that Wylder and I are compatible in such matters.
Simon, my dearest brother, please be happy for me and your best friend.
Because we will marry regardless of your feelings on the subject. ”
Simon blew out a frustrated breath and said from between clenched teeth, “He’s bewitched you.”