“I am certain you forget how admittance into that building works.”
“Your brother was recently admitted; I am certain I can—” The man’s words broke off on a swift inhalation.
Nicholas followed his gaze and stiffened. “What the hell are you doing?”
“By God, man, have you ever seen a lady so radiant and sensual? I wonder if she is taken?”
“Yes,” he clipped icily.
Curious eyes swung to him and then his friend grimaced. “A previous lover of yours?”
“My sister,” he said flatly, coolly watching the viscount.
Barlow’s eyes widened, and he snapped his head back to Emma. “I have met your sisters.”
“You’ve met Fanny and Lizzy. I have eight.”
Barlow arched a brow. “I meant no offense. Her beauty is admirable.”
“If you are of a mind to marry and want to consider my sister, then…” Nicholas thought about that and growled, “On second thought, stay away from my damn sisters.”
“I only admire that one,” Barlow said drily, his expression shadowing.
Nicholas held his stare for a few seconds longer, before dipping his head in a courteous farewell and walking away.Hell. If he had thought the viscount a man given to love or marriage, he would not have warned him away from Emma. However, Nicholas knew all of his sisters and was intimately acquainted with their hopes and dreams. Of the triplets, Emma was the most romantic and did not deserve to be pursued by a jaded scoundrel like Barlow.
Nicholas blew out a breath as a sudden exhaustion bit at his bones. He’d hardly slept these past few days, and he had been working tirelessly at Lady Cressida’s portrait, filling in the background. He should perhaps leave and return home for a good night’s sleep or visit the Glendevons’s gambling den for a spot of fun. Perhaps tomorrow he could send her a discreet note to prepare for their next session.
His gaze sought her out, and his heart jerked in that primal fashion when he found her. She was laughing, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. An expression of yearning filled her delicate features, and she tapped her feet to the beat of the music.
Suddenly he wanted her in his arms, sweeping with him across the expanse of the dancefloor. Nicholas walked toward her, knowing that he could not leave tonight’s ball without holding her in his arms at least once.
Bloody hell. I am sliding too damn deep and too fast. Stop now you damn fool.
Yet his feet carried him through the crowded room as if they had a will of their own.
* * *
Cressida tooka sip of her champagne, peering down into the golden liquid, wishing she were anywhere but at the Countess Merriweather’s ball.I wish I were with Nicholas.
“Cressida, why do I have the feeling you are not listening to me?”
She winced. “Forgive me, mama. My thoughts wandered for a while.”
A long-suffering sigh came from her mother. “Lord Linfield and I spoke earlier in the card room,” she continued, waving her fan. “The marquess’s regard for you is admirable. It was not easy for him to confess he wishes to marry no one but you my dear.”
She considered her mother for several moments before replying, “It is best the marquess marries the lady who is pregnant with his child. If the marquess acts with honor, it will save her and the child from society’s cruelty, mama.”
Her mother sighed. “I am not talking about that woman. That is not our concern, and it should not be yours.”
“To think of another with kindness, Mama!”
Her mother’s lips flattened in a stubborn line. “I am speaking about your attachment with—”
“There is no attachment.”
“You are vexing my nerves, Cressida!”
“It is not my intention, mama.”