Page 12 of Loving an Earl
“Is that all?” Lilly’s heart thrummed inside her chest. She could count the beats. “What about the rogues?”
“If I see any rogues heading your way, I’ll warn you.” Emmeline patted her hand. “You’ll be fine.” Her steps faltered, forcing Lilly to stop. Emmeline recovered quickly, and they continued.
“What is it?”
“Quincy... Blackstone. Dressed in navy. Staring daggers at me.”
Lilly looked around and saw two handsome gentlemen looking their way. One looked vaguely familiar and very nearly took her breath away. “Who is the man with him with the dark wavy hair and dressed in charcoal and black?”
Emmeline led them off to the side of the room, looking puzzled. “Do you need spectacles?”
Lilly giggled. “No. I see perfectly. Why?”
“That, my dear Lilly, is Langford.”
If she hadn’t been standing still, she would have tripped over her own feet. All the color drained from her face. She didn’t need to see it—she physically felt it slide down her neck. And she swallowed to keep from casting up her accounts. “Henry’s nephew? The new earl? That’s impossible. I met him. Surely I would remember what he looked like.” She refused to believe that was him. That the handsome-as-sin gentleman regarding her intently was her nemesis. Oh, how cruel fate could be sometimes.
“Don’t panic, but here they come.” Emmeline squeezed her hand, causing Lilly to wince.
“Please let go of me.” Lilly squeaked out.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“They’re almost to us. Is it too late to hitch up our skirts and run for the exit?” Lilly’s eyes darted around, looking for the quickest escape route.
“Surely you jest?”
“Not at all.” It was too late. They were upon them, and Lilly willed her body to stop trembling.
“Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” the duke’s intense, unwelcome gaze never left Emmeline’s face. She didn’t offer her hand, but he reached out and took it nonetheless and bowed most gallantly. At least Lilly thought so.
When he dropped her hand, Emmeline curtsied, her eyes downcast. “Your Grace.”
“Will you please introduce me to this lovely lady?”
“Your Grace, may I present Lilliana Weston, the Countess of Langford.”
Blackstone grinned, and Langford’s eyes widened. Langford hadn’t recognized her, either. Just then, she realized how odd it was that she was the Countess of Langford and he was the Earl of Langford. She curtsied. “Your Grace. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She rose and Blackstone took Lilly’s offered hand and bowed, staring inquisitively into her eyes. “Countess, the pleasure is all mine.” Blackstone glanced at Langford, his eyes mischievous. “You remember your uncle’s widow?”
“Yes. How could I forget?” Langford bowed, his face grave as he briefly made eye contact. “Countess.”
Somehow, Lilly managed to move and curtsy. “Langford.” She couldn’t get over the shock that this was the beast she’d met a couple months after Henry’s death. Where had the ogre gone? No doubt lurking just below the surface. His hair had been closely cropped then. Now he sported it on the long side and it had curls.
Surely that must be what had thrown her off as to his identity.
*
Edmund was goingto kill Blackstone—he was still getting used to calling him that instead of Quincy. His friend had received news of his father’s passing the same day Edmund had learned about his uncle. It had been quite a homecoming for all of them.
Edmund hadn’t heard the ladies’ names being called when they’d entered the ballroom. All he knew was that he looked at the mysterious woman with Emmeline and his heart stopped. She had appeared familiar, yet not. He’d asked Blackstone if he knew the lady’s name, and he’d looked at him like Edmund belonged in Bedlam, shook his head, and grinned. Now he knew why. Edmund had known his uncle’s widow lived with Emmeline now, but not in a thousand years had he thought that was her.
As the four of them stood in their intimate circle, Blackstone entertained the ladies while Edmund studied the countess with new eyes. Young, petite, thin, but not so thin that she didn’t have ample curves where it mattered. Her features were delicate, which complemented her light hair and green eyes. Her white teeth had the tiniest gap between her front teeth. How had he never noticed it before?
When he’d met her at Langford Manor all those months ago, he’d been so shocked at her young age that he’d hardly taken in her looks. No, that was a lie. He had noticed, just not noticed enough. His insides cringed at the memory when he thought back to his accusations. What a bloody arse he’d been. No wonder she’d run off mere weeks later without a word to him. The following months spent at Langford Manor had been tainted. The servants, while treating him with respect due to his station, didn’t befriend him. They kept their distance. Obviously, they favored Lilly and saw him as the enemy—the new nasty earl who’d run off their beloved widow of the previous earl.
A fortnight ago, he arrived in London, taking up residence in Langford House in Mayfair. He had visited his clubs and spent much time at his warehouse office, dealing with the affairs of his business. Thankfully, James Caldwell, his and Blackstone’s other partner in their enterprise, had everything under control.
