Lord Trotten had danced with Emilia twice more, eagerly listening to her tips on winning games of whist and spotting the best gossip in the ton (Madame Mischief of Mischief in Mayfair was her favorite). But upon the final chord of her third dance, Lady Worthington was there to whisk Emilia away.

Honestly, Emilia was surprised that Theo had not stepped in before that, but then Lady Worthington had informed her that the duke left sometime earlier. As an informant for the marriage-minded ladies of the ton, it was vital for her to know such things, after all.

It would seem that the matron had finally decided to step up to the task of chaperoning. But it was all rather too late, anyway. Emilia could hear the hushed whispers spread throughout the room while Lady Worthington chastised her for dancing so many times with a single partner.

Because doing so in a London ballroom was practically a declaration of courtship, if not marriage.

Emilia admitted to Lady Worthington that she hadn't been thinking about that when she had agreed to continue dancing with Lord Trotten. He was simply so lovely.

Lovely to look at, with those dancing blue eyes. Lovely to talk to, with that cunningly smooth voice. Lovely to dance with, with his sleek, lean figure.

"You had better hope that he calls upon you tomorrow, dear!" Lady Worthington had said as they gathered themselves within her carriage. "Or you shall find yourself in a scandalous situation indeed."

Emilia had not been able to sleep that night, fretting over what she would do if he should call upon her in the morning. And then she had switched to fretting over what she would do if he did not.

However, Lord Trotten called on her at an alarmingly early hour and put her worries to rest.

"Good morning, Lady Emilia," he said as he practically waltzed into the parlor, his eyes twinkling just as they had the previous night. She offered him her hand, and he bowed over it. Emilia saw him hesitate. In her rush to greet him, she had forgotten her gloves.

She always forgot those damn things.

But Lord Trotten seemed not to care and shocked her by brushing his lips against her bare hand. Emilia flushed at the feeling as his flesh graced her own. She might have even gasped, though she dearly hoped she hadn't.

It was resolved right then and there: Emilia would have to forget her gloves more often.

When Lord Trotten straightened, the corners of his mouth were stretched in a smirk.

It was possible that she had actually gasped and that he had heard it. Oh, dear.

Emilia busied herself with ringing for tea and tried to tame the blush that was overcoming her face. It was so very hard when he looked at her like that--like she was the first woman he had ever met.

She searched for something to say and decided to ask him about his time on the continent. "What was your favorite place that you visited while you were abroad, my lord?"

Lord Trotten considered the question as he arranged himself comfortably in the chair across from her.

"I would have to say that Italy was my favorite," he answered. Emilia admired his deep, smooth voice.

"Why was that?" she asked, genuinely curious. She had never traveled outside of England. Travel was yet another thing that daughters of dukes generally did not get to partake in.

"The people there are so...lively and interesting. It never grew dull. Plus, it is simply stunning." He tilted his head and smiled. "Are you certain you are not Italian, Lady Emilia?"

"She's English, through and through," a new voice cut in. Theo walked toward them after barging between the doors, saving Emilia from having to speak. Her tongue had been tied in knots anyway. It wasn't often that happened.

"Your Grace," Lord Trotten said, standing and bowing.

Theo stuck his hand out instead, offering a handshake. "Lord Trotten, it is rather early for a call, is it not?"

Emilia was worried that Theo might be annoyed that he had to entertain guests so early. Unfortunately, without a chaperone or companion living with them, the duty of being present to watch over Emilia during social visits with gentlemen was left upon her brother. Typically, it was not a problem, as Emilia had very few callers.

However, Theo did not appear bothered. Actually, he was acting genial toward Lord Trotten. The two of them were already chatting about their respective trips to the continent. Son of dukes, of course, could travel all they wanted.

Emilia nearly sighed as she watched her brother and Lord Trotten exchange stories. This was precisely what she had always wanted: to find someone who would fit so flawlessly into her life, someone she wouldn't have to change for.

By the end of Lord Trotten's visit, they had agreed upon a date where they might go for an afternoon ride in Hyde Park. Emilia was going to ascertain whether Lady Worthington was available to chaperone so that Theo would not be required to come.

Bowing over her hand again, Lord Trotten brushed not one but two light kisses across her skin.

Emilia was able to keep herself from gasping, but she had not been able to keep her heart from beating just a little faster.

Her heart then continued at that pace for the next month or so as Lord Trotten courted her. He positively doted upon her. Emilia was constantly on the receiving end of heated smiles and surprise bouquets of flowers.

The only falter in Emilia's heart came when Lord Trotten had invited her and Theo to his home to have dinner with his mother. Emilia had grown up with two warm and loving parents, and even though they had both passed away early in life, that was what she was used to.

As it turned out, Lady Trotten was not warm and loving.

Well, she might have been at some point in her life, or maybe she was different with her son when others were not around. But throughout their dinner together, the woman was curt and disagreeable. Lord Trotten had seemed annoyed with his mother's attitude, which led Emilia to believe that she wasn't like that all the time. And it also led her to believe that the reason for the woman's displeasure...was her.

After the evening was over, Will had apologized profusely for his mother, and they had put it all behind them. He continued to court Emilia, and she continued to relish in his attention.

It was all so comfortable and so easy that Emilia wasn't exactly sure when she fell in love with Will. She imagined it was somewhere between their first game of whist and her first loss at cards. She believed it mingled between the light kisses and heavy gazes he had rained upon her whenever they caught a private moment. She thought it was mixed in between the deep laughter and the deep desire he had brought from her belly.

However, Emilia was confident it was before he had asked for her hand in marriage and then passionately brought her to her knees. She was sure it was before the night he had made love to her beneath her sheets.

She wasn't precisely sure when she had started to love Lord Trotten, but she found it didn't matter.

A week after Theo had granted Will permission for her hand in marriage, her betrothed had shown up at her door. He had been impeccably dressed, wearing an indigo, double-breasted waistcoat with sparkling buttons. But his usually casual smile had been tight, and Emilia had immediately known that something was wrong.

He had looked awkward standing in the doorway, so Emilia had invited him in. Will appeared hesitant, and she'd almost thought he was going to refuse.

But he had walked briskly into the sitting room at Kingfield House and pulled her next to him on the settee. He gripped her ungloved fingers in his. It was then that Will had explained that Emilia's exuberant nature was not suitable for someone going into the serious and respectable life of politics. He had formed regrets about asking her to marry him. He had doubts that she would be a good wife for a man in Parliament.

Emilia could still remember reading Mischief in Mayfair the next day, large drops of tears drenching the gossip rag.

It would seem that Lord Trotten, usually so refined and polished, finally came to his senses about the hot-headed Lady Emilia. A smoking pistol, she is, and he dodged that bullet. It was a hopeless match, anyway, for him to be with a lady as hopeless as her.

"I am not hot-headed!" Emilia had shouted at a bewildered, sympathy-filled Theo. "I have only ever scolded one gentleman in the ballroom, and only after he became too grabby with his filthy little hands! What was I supposed to do, Theo?"

Her poor brother had merely shaken his head and hugged her tightly. He had also prepared himself for a duel, but Emilia, as much as she hated Will, could not say that she had wanted him dead. Her brother undoubtedly would have won.

Ultimately, Emilia decided to withdraw to the Kingfield country estate to content herself with days tending to her horses and books. She sat there, choosing to fill her head with stories that had lovely, happy endings, quite unlike her life. Emilia sat there, talking to horses who never had anything bad to say back. They did not mind her exuberant nature, though she didn't feel very exuberant anymore.

Lady Emilia hid in the country as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months.

Because what else was a ruined woman supposed to do?

Emilia wasn't sure when she had begun to love Will.

But she knew precisely when she had begun to hate him.

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