Instead she was a bloody royal princess!
Rich and pampered with a powerful, influential family from an independent foreign nation that counted among its relations half the crowned heads of Europe. Clearly she was spoiled and thoughtless, a proper little brat.
To think he’d believe her to be a governess!
My God, how she must have laughed.
His fingers tightened dangerously around the champagne flute in his grasp so fiercely he nearly shattered the glass. After tossing back the last of the wine, he set the glass down with a snap, unaware of the tiny crack left in the stem.
He watched her again where she stood across the room, conversing with a trio of gentlemen, each one vying more eagerly than the last to win her approbation.
She regarded them all with cool elegance and a royal condescension that looked exactly right for a princess.
But he’d seen her with passion blazing in her eyes, her hair a swirling mass of gold around her head, her mouth wet and red, swollen from his kisses.
He knew a side of her no one else had seen.
He knew what it was like to sheathe himself inside her body, to hear her gasps of ecstasy as she claimed the ultimate pleasure.
Had she taken some other man to her bed since she’d run away from him? he mused. His hand curled into a fist at his side at the idea. Was she seeking out her next conquest among the men assembled here tonight?
She’d certainly taken pains to avoid him since their introduction in the receiving line. She’d danced every dance with someone else, then strolled into supper on the arm of a royal duke from some obscure Austrian-Hungarian principality.
He could have gone to claim his dance, but he didn’t entirely trust himself where she was concerned. Besides, there would be scant opportunity for them to say anything of substance while they were completing the intricate movements of the quadrille, surrounded by any number of other couples who might be listening.
Is that why she’d agreed to stand up with him? Because she knew she would be safe? Because she realized she could pretend to placate him for a few minutes tonight, then turn her back and shut him out of her life once and for all?
He continued to watch her from his place against the pillar and was contemplating yet another drink—something with a bit more kick to it than champagne—when he saw her give a graceful nod and a slight smile to the group of gentlemen with whom she had been conversing.
Then she moved away.
Gliding through the crowd, she walked toward her sister. But rather than join her, she paused near the door to one of the anterooms. In the blink of an eye, she was gone, disappearing into the house beyond.
He stared, his jaw clenching so hard it was a wonder he didn’t crack one of his teeth.
Does she have an assignation?
Whomever she planned to meet could go on his merry way. The only assignation Emma would be having tonight was with him.
Chapter 17
What an absolutely disastrous evening, Emma thought, as she made her way through an empty anteroom on the far side of the Carlton House ballroom. She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to be alone, even if it was just for a few minutes.
She crossed the length of the room, barely glancing at the sumptuously appointed interior done in deep shades of blue with immense paintings lining both walls. Reaching the opposite end, she passed through the open side of a pair of tall, elaborately painted double doors, then continued on.
As she walked, the noise from the party began to recede, growing fainter and fainter until it was nothing more than a distant hum.
Still, a hum was not sufficient.
Continuing onward, she strode through yet another large, grandly appointed chamber, then into still another connecting chamber until she could hear nothing but silence.
Blessed, peaceful silence.
Coming to a halt at last, she paused to survey her surroundings, relieved to find herself inside a well-proportioned, almost intimate room lined with books rather than paintings. The walls were covered in emerald satin with gold-painted woodwork and touches of the chinoiserie style that was so favored by the British prince regent.
She frowned at a figurine of a serene little Asian man with long robes and an elegant trailing beard.
What does he have to look so pleased about? she wondered sourly. Although she supposed she ought not blame him since no one else in the world had problems quite like hers tonight.
Why, oh why, had Nick had to attend this evening’s ball? She guessed she ought to have known he might be among the invited guests. Even so, she had not expected to see him or to have all the feelings she’d worked so hard to suppress come crashing over her in a punishing, insurmountable wave.
Even now, she could scarcely catch her breath for thinking of him, her ribs aching from the misery of knowing he was so close, yet so utterly out of her reach.