through him. Damn his brother for putting images in his head that don’t belong there.
Simon counted to ten before he spoke. “Enough, Harry. I am not selling Hell, and I am not marrying Emma.”
“Then you should stay away from her.” Harry tilted his head and gave him an inquiring glance. “Are you in love with her?”
“No. And the only time I’m in her company is at family functions and the occasional ball I attend.”
He could not tell his brother about the other times she had come to Hell. Harry would be furious to discover she’d been there without Simon immediately sending her home and then informing him. And then there was this afternoon and what he’d almost done to her.
He was tired of everyone presuming he was the black sheep, the bad seed. The worst he’d done was almost seduce the lady. Well, that wasn’t terribly good. But he hadn’t completely ruined her, even if that had been the plan before Albert interrupted them.
“Please try to stay away from her, then. For both your sakes,” Harry implored before opening the door for them to go upstairs with the others.
If only I could. Simon had never met a woman who entranced him as Emma did. As he walked up the stairs, he wondered what had kept her from the dinner. Him, he supposed. Still, he imagined if she were here, a rosy blush would brighten her delicate cheeks. How he longed to see that.
And kiss her again.
Everywhere.
Bloody hell, he was in too deep.
EMMA GLANCED ONE LAST time in the mirror before heading to the door. She could do this. He would not even be at the Lancasters’ ball tonight. But Bolton would, and she’d promised him a dance. If this ball weren’t at Susan’s home, Emma might have begged off. After everything that happened yesterday, she had no desire to dance with Bolton or any other man.
She had almost crossed off number nine.
Number nine.
It should be the most frightening thing on her list. Except, she hadn’t been scared at the idea of giving herself to Simon. She had wanted it far more than she thought possible.
Reaching the bottom step, she noticed her mother had not descended yet. As she sat on the small hall chair, her thoughts returned to yesterday afternoon. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment when she realized Simon had seen her naked, had touched her so intimately. If they had not been interrupted, she would have let him do so much more.
How would she face him again?
Now, she doubted he would attempt to make love to her again. Common sense must have returned, and he would remember all the reasons they should never kiss, much less make love.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she glanced up to see her mother descending in a lovely blue silk. Emma didn’t remember seeing that gown before tonight. Another gift from Hammond, she supposed.
“Are you well, Emma?” her mother asked as a footman opened the door for them. “You look quite flushed.”
She blinked. “Excitement over the ball, I suppose.”
“Hmm,” her mother said with a shrug. “I expect you on the dance floor tonight.”
With a promised set to Bolton, she had no choice. “Of course, Mamma.”
“Excellent. Louisa and Harry should be here momentarily to escort you.” Her mother gave her a nod.
“What do you mean? Are you not attending?”
“No, dear. I have other plans this evening.”
Emma stared in disbelief as her mother walked to the waiting carriage. Glancing past her, Emma noticed Lord Hammond waiting to assist her into the coach.
As their coach drove away, Harry’s barouche slowed to a stop. Instead of waiting for her brother-in-law, she grabbed her shawl and met him as he disembarked. “Good evening, Harry.”
Harry turned with a smile. “Ah, Emma, you look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you.” She took his hand to climb up into the empty coach. “Where is Louisa?”
“George was feeling poorly.” He settled himself into his seat. “So, you must suffer with me as your escort.”
“That is not necessary, Harry. You should be home with Louisa and George.”
He shook his head. “My wife will have my head if I do not escort you.”
Emma felt dreadful that Harry had been coerced into playing chaperone. “Very well, then. I shall dance no more than two sets, and then we will take our leave.”
Harry chuckled. “This is Louisa we are talking about, Emma. She will be furious if you do not stay for the entire ball.”
“I shall plead a headache,” Emma replied with a smile as they reached the Lancaster home.
Once