“Does she have any family?”

Belle arched her brows at Emma’s interest.

“I just want to know how many people are going to know about my little escapade,” Emma said hastily.

“One mother. One brother.”

“Really?” Emma tried to sound casual, but her voice came out breathy and excited.

“Yes, I think he must be about nine-and-twenty now. He’s absolutely beautiful, with thick black hair and the greenest eyes you’ll ever see.”

Emma felt pangs of jealousy but quickly suppressed them. The man was an arrogant, overbearing boor, and she was sure she wasn’t interested in him in the least. It didn’t matter if his kiss had been the most exciting thing that had happened since she’d arrived in London. “You sound quite interested in him, Belle,” she said cautiously.

“The Duke of Ashbourne? You must be joking. He’s a handsome rascal, but he is positively dangerous. He never consorts with ladies, only women, if you know what I mean. Actually, I barely know him at all, but”—Belle leaned forward conspiratorially—“I’ve heard that he’s left broken hearts all over England. And the Continent.”

“He sounds quite interesting.”

“Interesting, yes. Suitable, not at all. Mama and Papa would have a fit if I set my cap after him. He’s a confirmed bachelor. He won’t marry for years. I’d bet my pearls on it. And when he does, it will be to some stupid little chit who can be easily managed and then ignored once she produces an heir.”

“Oh.” Emma wondered why she suddenly felt so depressed.

“He won’t even come tonight. I’m sure of it. He’s invited, of course. He gets invited to everything, but he never attends unless his family absolutely forces him to. He’s probably got scores of fancy mistresses tucked away all over London. Besides, I’m sure you won’t want to meet him. He wears a perpetual frown on his face and would probably bite your head off if you said two words to him.”

“Goodness, he’s beginning to sound most unpleasant.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call him exactly ‘unpleasant.’ Ned has only praise for him. They belong to the same club, you know. He says that all of his friends look up to him. More likely they want to be him.” Belle shrugged. “He’s sinfully rich, you know, and even more sinfully handsome. I think it’s just that he so hates the social whirl—hasn’t got the patience to pretend otherwise, so he just scowls at anyone who doesn’t interest him. Most of my friends are terrified of him—when they’re not plotting out how to get him to the marriage altar.”

“He must be quite remarkable to wield such power,” Emma commented.

“Oh, yes, it’s really quite disgusting how he always gets his way. It seems that everyone panders to him.”

“Why?”

“Well, there’s his title for one thing; he is a duke, you know. And as I mentioned, he is exceedingly wealthy. But if you saw him for yourself, you’d know what I meant. He positively exudes power. He’s quite a specimen.”

“Belle!” Emma laughed. “Your mama would swoon if she heard you talk this way.”

“Mama swoons about as often as you do.”

“Then she’s due for a good fainting spell any minute now,” Emma joked. But inside, she breathed a sigh of relief at Belle’s assurance that Alex wouldn’t attend her ball. Her head still ached, and she felt utterly exhausted. There was no way that she’d pander to the arrogant duke, but with her injury, she just wasn’t up for another round with him.

Chapter 4

“Ashbourne! This is a surprise. I can’t believe I’m seeing your ugly face here.”

William Dunford, one of Alex’s closest chums since his Oxford days, strode across the Blydon ballroom and slapped the duke affectionately on the back. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d categorically sworn off all such gatherings.”

“Believe me, I have no intention of remaining at this little soiree for more than another ten minutes.” Alex kept his tone light, but underneath his temper was starting to flare. The moment he’d entered the ballroom, a hush had fallen over the crowd. Everyone had been utterly shocked to see the Duke of Ashbourne walk through the door in his elegant evening attire. Nervous mamas forced their daughters to swear they’d steer a wide path around the notorious rake (all the while secretly hoping he’d single their charges out for attention), while everyone who wasn’t in some way connected with a marriageable female immediately made his way to Alex, preening at the rich, titled gentleman.

Alex sighed. He had no patience for the insipid chatter of the ton. All he really wanted was to find Meg, assure himself of her welfare, and leave. His latest mistress was tucked away in a cozy townhouse, and Alex was looking forward to a long, lazy night with her. An evening with Charisse would surely rid him of this strange obsession with the Blydon’s kitchen maid.

Alex almost went weak with relief when he saw Dunford striding across the ballroom toward him. At last, some decent conversation.

Dunford was not quite the rake that Alex was, but he came damn close. Most of the ton, however, were more than willing to forgive him his tarnished reputation because he was insufferably charming. Alex had never quite learned to follow his friend’s example. His cronies praised him as an eminently affable fellow but had to allow that the Duke of Ashbourne bore little tolerance for most of society. He rarely hid his boredom when he was forced into conversation with anyone he found dull, and he gave the most icy stares to those who caused him displeasure. Rumor had it that more than one young lady had been sent scurrying in terror across a room at one of his scowls.