Taking my eyes off her, I met the heated glare of my brother. He wasn’t happy to see me but then I couldn’t recall a time in our adult years that he was pleased by my presence. Once we had been rather close, but those years seemed a lifetime ago. Our childhood had changed that and I regretted it, but I would not let that regret carry any weight on my decision to follow through with my well-constructed plan.
I gave him a nod and smirked. Yes, dear brother, I am here to make sure you are humiliated far worse than what Miss Bathurst presented you with tonight. You should be nervous.
Shifting my focus to Lydia Ramsbury, I knew she’d be easy to lure away. There would be no true challenge with that one. My brother knew nothing of romance. He was too cold and indifferent to the desires of a woman. Lydia was a business transaction for him. Choosing his countess had nothing to do with true affection but then neither did it with his peers. They were all so mundanely boring.
I, on the other hand, hadn’t stayed in London’s confining society. Paris had taught me much about the allure of romance. Ashington had the title, of course, but he had no idea how to seduce a lady. If only he’d chosen a more interesting woman. Lydia wasn’t exciting in the least. She represented no challenge at all. If, in fact, I was correct in my estimation that Lydia Ramsbury was who my brother intended to make his bride.
When I looked back to the refreshment table, Miriam was gone. Scanning the ballroom, I found her easily enough, dancing yet again. I knew little of her, but that this was her first season. She was on the market for a husband. There would be no other reason for her being here. Yet, when one of the most eligible Earls in London approached her, she refused him. That made Miriam Bathurst so damn intriguing, I had a hard time thinking of anything else.
“Compton,” a familiar voice interrupted my musings.
I moved my gaze from Miriam Bathurst to the man beside me. “Radcliff,” I replied. “On the market for a wife, are you?”
He grunted in reply. “Perhaps and you?”
I chuckled at his question because it wasn’t meant to be serious. George Radcliff had known me far too long to believe I was here to find a wife. “I’m simply here to cause trouble,” I assured him.
“Indeed. I expected that was to be the case. I just wasn’t rude enough to state such,” he said as the corners of his mouth curved into an amused grin. “What mischief are you about tonight?”
Glancing once more in Miriam Bathurst’s direction, I found she was now dancing with another young dandy who wouldn’t suit her at all. Did the girl have no direction from a chaperone? For Christ’s sake, I could do a better job at choosing her partners.
“Ah, you have noticed Alfred Baxter’s niece, I see. She is a beauty, but I’ve heard her tongue is quite sharp and she’s appeared bored this evening more than anything. Word is Baxter is trying to marry her off for her mother was left with nothing but gambling debt by her deceased father.”
How did Radcliff know all of this already? He was as drawn to gossip as the old biddies huddled together. However, it did put some light on things. From what I had witnessed, it did not appear that Miss Bathurst was very keen on being her family’s saving grace.
“Tell me, Compton, why are you here tonight?” Radcliff asked.
I turned my attention in the direction of my brother. “Family business, one might say,” I replied, not intending to tell Radcliff anything he could share with anyone else. The man was too damn chatty.
“Be elusive then my friend. I have no time to draw it out of you, although my curiosity is peeked. My name is next on Miss Bathurst dance card and I don’t want to lose my place,” he said then beamed at me as if he had won an award. Radcliff would never be enough to interest one such as Miriam Bathurst but who was I to dampen his hopes.
Chapter Five
The Earl of Ashington
There was a time that I had simply taken breakfast in my office. I had forgotten just what a silent morning was like. Now when I was to take my morning meal, it was in the dining room seated at the table with Emma. My decision to spend this meal with her was because I had never been given this opportunity as a child. I felt it would be good for her development, and if I was being completely honest with myself, I enjoyed her chatter.
“Did you dance with a princess?” Emma asked before taking a sip of hot chocolate. Her eyes wide with curiosity stared up at me over the rim of her cup.
“There were no princesses in attendance, I am afraid,” I informed her, already knowing she would have many more questions for me before I finished my ham and eggs.
“Why can’t I have jam and a biscuit for breakfast? I love jam,” she said, frowning at the food placed in front of her. Then, instantly distracted, she looked back at me. “If there were no princesses then how was it a ball?”
“A princess is not required to attend in order to hold a ball,” I explained.
Emma scrunched her small nose in distaste as she looked back at her eggs and ham. “Don’t you like jam, Ashington?” she asked me then.
“Why yes, I do enjoy jam. I’m sure you will have a jam and biscuit during afternoon tea,” I assured her.
“I want jam all day,” she stated rather fiercely.
Grinning, I tried to hide my amusement behind my cup.
“Miss Emma, are you complaining over your breakfast again? I’ve told you countless times it is rude to complain about the meal placed before you. You are to be grateful for what you are given.” Alice was just entering the room as she spoke, but it was clear she had overheard the conversation.
Emma shrugged her shoulders as if Alice’s words meant little. “When I am a lady, I will eat jam and biscuits all day,” she announced primly.
“Then you will find much difficulty fitting into your gowns,” Alice replied without pause.
“There were no princesses at the ball, Alice,” Emma then stated, changing the subject once again.
“I explained to you last night there were to be no princesses in attendance,” Alice said with a nod.
Emma huffed in what I assumed was annoyance at Alice being correct and took another drink of her hot chocolate. “I bet princesses eat jam and biscuits when they want to,” she told no one in particular but scowled at the food on her plate.
“I will see if we can arrange for jam and biscuits for your breakfast tomorrow,” I finally said before Alice began to scold her again.
Alice then scowled at me in disapproval. “Miss Emma needs to learn she cannot demand things,” she said tightly.
I shrugged. “It is just jam and biscuits, Alice.”
“I understand that, my lord, however it starts with small things. Soon she will be demanding new gowns and jewels.”
“I will not! I don’t want more gowns or silly jewels. I am but four, Alice,” Emma stated with a pinched frown. “I would like more hot chocolate.”
I covered my mouth with my napkin and masked my laughter with a cough for fear Alice may strike me if I encouraged Emma’s way with words.
Alice let out a sigh of irritation and left the dining room with a whoosh of her skirts. Emma knew exactly how to set her governess off and at such a tender age, I found that to be a strong quality for the future. There would never be a man or woman that would break Emma’s spirit. It was something I was grateful for, considering the life she lived before she was brought to my doorstep.