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Just then, he felt a delicate hand slither around his own arm. He looked down at a beaming Olivia, clutching onto his arm.

“I think they make a splendid couple, don’t you think?” Olivia’s gaze trailed Alex as he took Emma for a turn about the room while they waited for dinner.

George heard a grunt escape him in response as he too followed them with his displeased gaze. Emma was giggling at something Alex was saying now.The nerve of them!

“They look like the perfect pair,” Olivia added.

Just when George opened his mouth to dispute this, the butler appeared and announced their meal.

“Shall we?” he said to Olivia instead.

The guests paired up and began the slow procession toward the dining room. George trailed a little behind. He couldn’t take his gaze off of Emma and Alexander ahead of them.

“Do you think Alex is courting her?” Olivia whispered as they followed the other guests into the dining room.

“That is ridiculous!” George couldn’t help the sharpness in his tone.

“How is that ridiculous?” Olivia’s expression conveyed her perplexity.

“He is not courting her, Olivia,” George insisted, attempting to maintain composure.

“Well then, if Alexander isn’t courting her, are you?” Her voice held a playful yet probing note, her eyes glinting with both mischief and hope.

“No,” George responded, his words terser than he intended. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly out of place.

The thought of Alex showing any romantic interest in Emma was unsettling, and the idea of himself doing the same was inexplicably daunting. As they entered the dining room and found their seats, George’s mood darkened further. Emma was placed next to Alexander, far across from him. Throughout the dinner, her laughter reached his ears, light and frequent, as she chatted animatedly with Alexander. George’s grip on his fork tightened with each peal of laughter that floated across the room.

“Is all well, George?” The soft inquiry came from Jane, who noticed his discomfort as she sat beside him. Her hand rested gently on his, drawing his attention.

“As well as it can be, Aunt Jane,” George replied, managing only a strained smile as his gaze involuntarily flicked back to Emma. “As well as it can be,” he found himself repeating, the words echoing in his own ears.

Alexander leaned in and whispered something to Emma, causing a delicate blush to rise to her cheeks. Under the table, George’s hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles whitening with the effort. When he finally tore his gaze away to meet Jane’s, he caught a slight smile on her features—a smile he could not decipher.

After dinner, George followed Emma when he saw her excuse herself instead of going to the gardens with the others. She paused in one of the dimly lit halls, likely sensing him. George decided to reveal himself.

“Are you following me, Seymour?”

“What if I am?”

He heard footsteps and quickly took her hand, pulling her into a salon and closing the door. “What are you doing, George? This is scandalous!”

“Your attention on Firman is scandalous,” he said, allowing her to take a step from him. Her face was flushed, and he had to maintain his composure.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

“Answer me this question. What do you require in a suitor, Emma?”

“Why are you asking this?” George was not so much interested in the answer as he was in keeping her here with him, not out there smiling at Alexander.

“Am I not allowed to be curious about you?”

She looked at the door, seeming impatient. She had looked at it all evening, and he wondered why. Her happy demeanor from earlier had all but disappeared. “Why do you derive such pleasure from stepping on people’s toes?” she demanded, her voice low and intense.

“I do not recall us ever dancing. And by people, you mean yourself, Emma?” he returned insolently, keeping his voice smooth, almost teasing.

“I have to go,” she said, moving past him.

George took hold of her wrist. “What has you in a temper this evening, Emma?” He drew her toward him—unable to help himself.