Page 30 of The Forbidden Lord (Lord Trilogy #2)

When Mr. Phelps drew himself up in righteous indignation, she added hastily, “The woman is perfectly respectable these days, mind you. But before she married her husband, the earl, she was—” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “An actress. And I know how clergymen feel about such things.”

The young man’s eyes narrowed. “You packed your niece and my cousin off to the country estate of some unsavory woman without asking my uncle’s permission? Who is their chaperone? Why aren’t you with them?”

“I’ll be going there in a few days, but my brother is with them. They’re perfectly safe.” Pray heaven Randolph didn’t return from White’s before Mr. Phelps left.

The barrister settled back in his seat and eyed her with suspicion. “How odd that Lady Sophie should leave town in the midst of her coming out.”

“It’s not often done, I’ll admit, but in this case, it’s perfectly warranted.” She thought quickly. “You see, Sophie no longer has to make the rounds. She’s accepted an offer of marriage.” Thankfully, he wasn’t apt to move in any circles where he could learn she was lying.

He looked momentarily stunned. Then his pale blue eyes glittered beneath the dark, scowling brows. “Really? So soon after her arrival in London?”

Ophelia shrugged. “That’s to be expected for a girl with her attractions. In fact, her fiancé is one of the guests at our friend’s estate.”

He glanced away, staring off into the fire a moment as if considering her words. “I see.” Then his gaze swung back to her as he rose. “Thank you for clarifying matters, Lady Dundee.”

Ophelia rose as well. “You’re welcome. Be sure to visit when Miss Fairchild returns.”

“I certainly will.” He headed for the door with her a few paces behind, then stopped short. “Why don’t you give me the address of that estate where Emily is staying? Then I can write my cousin and ask her to pay me a visit upon her return.”

Really, this young man was growing troublesome. Did he have some other, deeper interest in Emily? Cousins sometimes did marry, after all.

How excessively inconvenient his interference would be now, when they were close to discovering the truth.

Ophelia mustered all the frosty dignity she could manage.

“I’m sure your cousin will have little time for letters in the country, nor would I wish to trouble her host with taking mail for her.

That’s why we’re holding her mail here.”

She stepped toward the door, and opened it for him. “I’ll tell her of your interest when I get there. I’m certain she’ll write you as soon as she has the chance.”

He glanced from her to the open door, looking as if he might say something else. Then he gave a sketchy bow. “Very well, Lady Dundee. Sorry to trouble you. I’ll await my cousin’s letter with eager anticipation.”

“You do that. Good day, Mr. Phelps.”

She watched as Carter showed him out, then sank onto the settee, her heart pounding in her chest. Pray heaven that was the last she saw of the impertinent creature. She was getting too old for these games.

Emily burst into the room. “Thank goodness he’s gone! You did that very well. I don’t think he suspected anything, do you?”

Privately Ophelia thought he suspected a good deal. But she couldn’t tell the poor girl that, not when Emily had so many other things on her mind. “I think we’re rid of him for the moment.”

“Yes.” The young woman forced a bright smile. “Well then, I suppose I’ll go rest for a while. My headache, you know.”

She had already turned toward the door when Ophelia said, “Wait one moment, my dear. Before you run off to hide, I wish to discuss what happened at the museum.”

The girl’s back went rigid as a poker. “Nothing happened. I told you, Lord St. Clair—”

“You know quite well that’s not what I’m referring to.”

Emily’s heart sank as she faced the countess. She’d hoped to avoid this, prayed that Lady Dundee wouldn’t question her too closely. She should have known better.

The countess patted the seat next to her on the settee. “Come here and tell me what happened with Blackmore.”

Emily nearly rebelled. Hadn’t she been through enough today?

Merely thinking of her encounter with Jordan made her want to cry.

The hungry glide of his hands over her body, the shocking things she’d let him do!

Every moment had been the sweetest torture.

And to know that it had meant absolutely nothing to him …

She could never reveal that shame to Lady Dundee.

On the other hand, she needed advice. What if Jordan did tell everyone? What was she to do? The only person who could help her with this was the countess. Heaven knows telling Lord Nesfield would be a disaster.

“Well?” Lady Dundee said, jolting Emily from her reverie.

Wearily, she took the seat next to the countess. Perhaps it was time she explained Jordan’s interest in her. She could tell the truth without revealing all of what happened this afternoon. “Lord Blackmore and I visited a ‘private’ part of the museum.”

“I knew it! All that nonsense about the carriage … Did he try to make advances? I swear, I’ll strangle the scoundrel if—”

“It wasn’t about that.” She paused, swallowing hard. “You see, he knows who I really am.”

The countess gaped at her. “What? But how?”

Unable to look at Lady Dundee, she explained.

How she’d met Jordan. What had happened.

How he’d recognized her later, then spent his time trying to prove who she was.

Without revealing what else they’d done, she told Lady Dundee that he’d finally trapped her into revealing her identity in the museum.

“So you see,” she finished, her gaze dropping to her hands, “his interest in me is motivated only by a desire to unmask me. And today, thanks to my blundering, he succeeded.”

She waited in utter fear for the countess’s reaction. Would Lady Dundee lecture her for not revealing this before? Or, God forbid, would she head straight to Lord Nesfield with the news?

When the countess said nothing, Emily couldn’t bear it any longer. She glanced up, fully expecting the woman to be wearing a look of censure. But the countess was smiling. Smiling, for goodness sake!

“This is interesting indeed. So he’s known your true identity all along? And he hasn’t said anything to anyone? How very strange.”

“Not ‘known.’ Suspected. I don’t think he would have said anything without being sure.”

“Hmmm. But today he learned he was right. You say you asked him not to tell anyone?”

“Yes. I don’t know if he will.”

“He kept quiet this afternoon, didn’t he?”

“That’s true.” Emily considered that, then shook her head. “On the other hand, he’s not the kind to make public pronouncements. If he tells Lord St. Clair, he’ll do it in private. We must watch the viscount carefully. His behavior will indicate if he knows.”

Lady Dundee straightened. “Oh, dear, I forgot—this afternoon while you and Blackmore were gone in the museum, St. Clair invited us to join him at the opera this evening. He’s taken a box. I thought it might be a good idea, so I accepted. What do you think? Are you up for it?”

“Yes, of course. Then we can determine what Jordan—I-I mean, Lord Blackmore—has told Lord St. Clair. I’d rather go and learn where we stand.”

“What if Blackmore is there?”

Emily lifted her chin. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not afraid of him, you know.”

But she was afraid of him. She was afraid of the sinful urges he roused in her, afraid that she was slipping into an infatuation that would wreck her life.

And terrified that he would reveal her secret.

He’d said he cared, but what did that mean?

He’d made it quite clear he wasn’t the sort of man influenced by something so silly as pity.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Lady Dundee said softly.

Emily’s eyes widened. “In love? Certainly not! How could I be in love with a man so far above me? He would never marry me. For goodness sake, even when he thought I was Lady Emma, he wasn’t interested in me beyond—” She stopped short, reddening.

“Beyond the physical attraction, you mean?” Lady Dundee settled her feet on the footstool. “You think not? Trust me, a man of his sort doesn’t follow a woman about town simply because he’s randy. He can fill those needs anywhere.”

“He followed me about town because he wanted to expose me,” she said bitterly.

“Did he? Seems like an awful lot of trouble merely to prove that some nobody is an impostor. What would he gain by it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself why he’s so persistent. I can only assume it offends his moral sensibilities to have me impose on his friends with this masquerade.”

“Moral sensibilities? Blackmore? From what I hear, he reserves his moral sensibilities for his reform efforts in Parliament. In private, he seems no more nor less moral than his peers. No, he’s interested in you—I’d stake my honor on it.”

“Then your honor would be ruined,” Emily bit out.

“We’ll see. Tonight. And remember, if he has told his friend, it’s not your fault.”

“I only wish your brother felt the same.” A sudden terror struck her heart. “You won’t tell Lord Nesfield all this, will you?”

“Of course not. Randolph will overreact, as he always does. And you mustn’t worry about it anymore, do you hear?” Lady Dundee regarded her intently for a moment. “Now run along, dear, and get some rest. You’ll need it for tonight. You and I will see this through, never you mind.”

A sudden surge of gratitude made Emily grab the countess’s plump hand and kiss it. “Thank you, Lady Dundee, for not revealing my secret to your brother. And for not insisting that I stop the masquerade.”

Amusement lit the countess’s eyes. “Stop the masquerade? Now that it’s become interesting? Certainly not.” Emily rose to walk off, and Lady Dundee added, “Oh, and dear? Wear the red velvet tonight.”

Emily blushed. She’d sworn never to wear that particular gown. “But it’s so … so revealing. Don’t you think it’s much too low in the front for a girl at her coming out?”