Emma forced herself to study the vision in the mirror. Her high-waist, white satin ball gown with its low, square neckline sparkled in the candle’s light. The wide ribbon tied under her bosom accentuated the fullness of her breasts and was a contrast to the seed pearls embroidered at the neckline. The dress cascaded perfectly to the floor, just covering her white satin slippers. Emma fingered her mama’s pearls.
Her coiffure looked as though her blond hair would tumble down at any time, though Rosie had secured it with numerous pins. The white miniature roses tucked into her hair added to the allure. Where was the girl from Miss Beauregard’s Finishing School? What she glimpsed, standing in the mirror, was a young lady worthy of meeting her prince charming.
At the appointed time, Emma joined Amelia and Bella at the top of the stairs. They exclaimed over each other’s gowns and coiffures, then linked their gloved hands and descended the sweeping staircase together.
Emma shivered when she saw Thomas waiting at the bottom of the staircase with Sebastian and his mother.
***
When Thomas looked up his heart stopped. His two sisters looked beautiful and grown up, but his eyes drank Emma in, and that sent heat pooling in his loins. Damn his formal black tailcoat as it would not hide his lust from his mother if she looked. It would not do to have his mother see him in such a state. She would think him a degenerate of the vilest kind.
That worry was forgotten when, with one look at his brother, Thomas knew Sebastian lusted after Emma as well.
Bloody hell, he so did not want to negotiate a marriage between his brother and his ward.
Thomas promised himself, right then and there, their mutual interest would never come to fruition. Oh, it was terribly selfish of him, but how could he survive seeing the two of them together, day after day, knowing he wanted what they shared behind the closed doors to their bedchamber?
How could he look at Emma’s flushed face every morning, knowing his brother was the cause of her satisfied glow? Oh, yes, he was a selfish bastard. Thomas could not have her, but his brother would not have her either.
His eyes moved back to Emma, in her virginal white satin gown. She looked good enough to take behind a large potted plant to plunder her mouth and cup her generous breasts that swelled over the top of her chaste gown… Damn it. Thomas, control yourself.
Even in his aroused state, Thomas bowed a perfectly turned out bow, complete with hand sweep. “Ladies, you three are a vision. Every gentleman’s eyes will be upon you this evening.”
All three ladies curtsied in sequence. Had they practiced that? Sebastian nudged Thomas aside and stepped toward his ward.
“Emma.” He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed. “Be still, my heart. It beats for you alone. May I?” He held out his arm.
Thomas felt a low growl rise up his throat, and before he could stop it…it escaped, causing all eyes to turn to him. His mother narrowed her eyes, searching for the cause.
“Excuse me; stomach troubles.” He mumbled this through the hand covering his mouth––which brought another inquisitive look from his mother.
Thomas shrugged, held out his arm to his mother, and said, “Shall we?”
The others might be ready––he was anything but. He didn’t lie when he said he had stomach troubles. It did in fact toss, turn, and churn with a kind of pain. Too many things worried him. One would think it was his first ball.
First priority…he had to watch Emma, Amelia and Bella to make sure they never left the ballroom alone with a gentleman. And then he and Sebastian had to pay homage to all the mamas and keep themselves from being led astray by their virginal daughters.
Easy––nothing to it.
Yes, well, tell that to my insides.
They arrived at the Duke and Duchess Caulfield’s estate and found dozens of carriages already waiting in the queue. Everyone’s livery colors were bright and crisp, as none wanted to be outdone by another at the first ball of the season.
***
Thomas escorted his mother and Emma inside the front entrance while Sebastian led Amelia and Bella. As they ascended the grand staircase Emma tripped.
“Steady,” he murmured into her ear. “You’re doing fine.”
“Am I?” Her terrified blue eyes met his, and she lowered her gaze to her feet.
“Keep your chin up, shoulders back. Remember your posture,” his mother spoke up. “And stop looking as though you are going to the gallows. It is a ball. Enjoy yourself while you are young and unmarried.”
Thomas shot his mother a reproachful look. “Don’t encourage her. Before we know it, she’ll be the center of a scandal because she enjoyed herself overly much.”