Page 98 of An Alleged Rogue

Sincerely,

Phoebe

He smiled ruefully. The pasties had been marvelous—and had indeed made up for missing luncheon that day.

That she had come to know him so well in such a short period of time was somewhat unnerving; that he had missed her so acutely this week was even more telling. He glanced at his pocket watch again. Never before had he wished to attend a ball so badly, and never before had he been so delayed.

The clatter of running feet reached him from the passageway. Seconds later, Emily burst into the study.

“Forgive me, Adam.” She was out of breath. “I had not anticipated how long it would take to dress my hair without Lucy’s assistance.”

Like a relentless thorn, guilt that Emily had gone without so much these past five years pricked his heart. Thankfully, the Charwell Park apples had placed his cider production back on track, which meant that in the not-too-distant future, he could acquire Emily a lady’s maid. And a few more gowns.

He smiled at her and offered her his arm. “It was worth the wait. You look lovely.” Her thick dark hair was pulled up in a simple twist, with a few ringlets hanging around her face. She was wearing her second new gown. “I believe Mother would be very proud of you tonight.”

She slid her arm through his. “Just as Father would be immensely proud of you,” she said.

Adam glanced at the painting of his father over the fireplace, and for the first time since the former Lord Dunsbourne’s death, he felt peace regarding the past and optimism for the future.

“I pray you are right,” he said.

She smiled. “I am sure of it.”

Thompson handed them their outerwear as soon as they stepped into the main hall, and when the butler opened the front door, Oliver was standing beside the readied carriage. The groom’s forehead was a deep-purple color, but he greeted Adam with a deferential nod and a smile.

“No double vision tonight, I hope,” Adam said.

“No, m’ lord. I’ll be seein’ apples spinnin’ ’round the mill in my dreams for some time yet, but I can manage a drive to Bloxley Hall without difficulty.”

Oliver was right. The journey was blissfully uneventful, and it was not long before they were pulling up in front of the Earl of Bloxley’s stately home. Lights shone from each of the many windows, and lanterns illuminated the grand portico.

“Oh my!” Emily gazed out of the window with wide eyes.

Sensing his sister’s mounting apprehension, Adam reached out and patted her hand. “Bloxley Hall is a large house, Em. Nothing more. You will know many of the attendees already.”

She nodded. “Will Phoebe be here?”

“I hope so.”

She looked at him then, a slow smile replacing her worried expression. “I believe you are rather taken with Miss Hadford, Lord Dunsbourne.”

Grateful that the darkness hid the color creeping up his neck, he assumed her formal tone. “Is that so, Miss Norton?”

“Yes.” The carriage stopped. “Not that you need or desire it, of course, but should you choose to act upon those leanings, you have my wholehearted approval.”

He chuckled. “I am glad to hear it. I appreciate your candor and shall take your opinion under consideration.”

Oliver opened the door. Adam exited the carriage and extended his arm to his sister.

She stepped out and smiled at him. “Shall we go and find her together?”

Although most of her guests had already arrived, Lady Bloxley was still receiving people at the entrance of the enormous ballroom.

“Ah, Lord Dunsbourne and Miss Norton,” she said, greeting them warmly. “I was so hoping you would come. It is lovely to see you.”

Adam blinked. He had expected Lady Bloxley to be polite, but he had not expected effusion. He bowed, and Emily curtsied.

“Thank you, my lady. We are honored to be here,” he said.