she knew he had no proper claim to these forms of address.
‘Tis Lady Charlotte,’ the blond man—Lord Ferriston—said.
‘My daughter? What of her?’ Emery responded, his face darkening with concern.
‘She has left the ball to take the air outside with some gentleman I do not recognize, and they have left the terrace. ’Tis most unseemly.’
Oh no, thought Emilia. This Lord Ferriston will make a muddle of everything.
‘The devil, you say!’ Emery barked, his cheeks reddening. He turned to look out the window but from where they stood, they saw nothing of Lady Charlotte without. ‘Come along, Ferriston, let’s set this situation to rights, shall we?’
Emilia gasped as Emery and Ferriston began to navigate the tight crowd, making for the archway to the great drawing room, where they would surely exit to the terrace and garden beyond. She pulled Alice with her as she moved through the press of people, seeking to find Maximilian to warn him.
There he was, waltzing with Miss d’Este.
Despite her knowledge of his plan, the sight gave Emilia a horrid pang of jealousy.
You forget yourself, Emilia. Miss d’Este is just the sort of lady he should court and marry. A noble, like himself, and a very sweet girl, as well.
But she could not bring herself to wish for it.
The music ended, and Miss d’Este curtseyed to the handsome true earl as he bowed in return.
With a little mental shake, Emilia cast aside her feelings and raised herself on her toes, angling to catch the earl’s eye. At last he looked her way, and she gestured to Emery and Ferriston, just now disappearing through the door to the drawing room.
***
Confound it, Max thought with frustration as he followed Miss Whitmore’s motion.
A gentleman he could not fail to recognize, although he had aged, was pushing through the crowd of guests to the archway leading to the next room. The gentleman was wearing a powdered wig and an elaborately embroidered court suit-coat. It was Uncle Edward, accompanied by a younger gentleman, and unless Max was mistaken, they would soon leave the house, no doubt in search of Charlotte. Why else would Miss Whitmore have gone out of her way to warn him?
If they interrupt Roberts now, we are unlikely to have another opportunity to provoke a confession.
There was nothing for it. He must stop his uncle. Digging his nails into his palms he forced a smile at Miss d’Este. ‘Thank you ever so much, Miss d’Este. I do hope we shall have another opportunity before the night is through,’ he said to the lady, who giggled at him.
Catching Miss Whitmore’s eye again, Max tilted his head to indicate Miss d’Este to her. He was not at all certain what Miss Whitmore could do, however. It seemed the scheme, like a horse given its head, had left his intended path for it, and now Max was not at all certain his goals would be reached at all.
Anxious and out of temper, he hurried after his uncle.
The cool night air was a relief despite his distress at having to abandon his intended witness. Max took a deep breath as he stepped on the terrace, casting about to spy where his uncle had gone.
There, by the entrance to the garden path.
Max rushed down the terrace stairs. ‘If you please, Lord Ceastre!’ he called.
His heart skipped as his uncle hesitated in his steps and turned back to face him.
As Edward Emery faced Maximilian Emery for the first time since the announcement of the latter’s death three years before, the colour drained from his face and he forgot to breathe.
Max was conscious of the shock seeing him must have given his uncle. He straightened his shoulders and gave a short nod.
‘Yes, it is I, my lord. Your nephew, Maximilian Emery.’
Uncle Edward lifted a hand and waved it at the man beside him. ‘See to my daughter, if you please, Ferriston.’
The gentleman hurried off into a garden allée, and Max bit his lip. Would Ferriston still manage to interrupt Roberts in his efforts?
Hell and damnation.
There was no avoiding this confrontation now, however.
‘Maximilian,’ his uncle said. ‘You are here?’
‘Indeed,’ Max said. ‘It would seem I have been gone a very long time, judging by the way the place has changed in my absence.’
‘We thought you—’ Uncle Edward stopped.
‘Did you?’ Max said shrewdly. He narrowed his eyes at Edward. ‘Tell me true, my lord. Were you ever convinced of my demise?’
Edward scoffed and looked away, then pressed a hand to his mouth.
‘I hazard to say you did not,’ Max