Ten Ways to Ruin

“Oh?” she innocently. “Should I not have spoken to Mr. Simpson? He seemed like a lovely gentleman with excellent manners. More a gentleman than you.”

“You know better than that. Why would you take such a chance with your reputation?”

“You mean the reputation my sisters ruined?” She moved away from him in lithe movements.

Thankfully, he would have one more chance to speak with her again before the dance ended. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited. She continued to glare over at him as if just as eager to finish the dance. He marched into the middle of the dance floor as the time came to complete their steps.

“Mr. Kingsley, I do wonder why you have taken such an interest in me and my reputation.”

“I am only concerned because your sister is my sister-in-law. I should hate to see you ruin your good name.”

“Half-sister-in-law to be precise.” She circled him. “And my good name?” she whispered harshly, close to his ear. “I have no good name any longer, thanks to my sisters.”

She returned to her position across from him. Once the rest of the line finished, she curtsied and walked away without another word.

Simon watched her in amazement. She had spurned him in the middle of the set. The perfect Miss Drake. Slowly his lips turned upward. The audacity of the woman astounded him. The few interactions he’d had with over the past year never alluded to such a fire in her. She normally blushed and stammered a quick greeting before leaving the room as if the sight of him irritated her.

After making his way toward the refreshments, he caught a glimpse of pale pink and golden hair. He turned to see Emma slip out the terrace door. Was she meeting Simpson?

Simon scanned the room for Louisa or Harry, or even Tessa or her husband. Not seeing of her Emma’s sisters, he took the matter into his own hands. In an odd, distant way, Emma could be considered family. Therefore, it was his duty to protect her.

He strode out to the terrace, ready to break up the amorous couple, only to find the dim terrace deserted. A light sneeze from the dark corner forced his attention there.

“Leave me alone, Kingsley.”

Slowly, he moved to the area from where her voice emanated. “You truly are out to ruin yourself tonight, are you not, Miss Drake?”

Chapter 3

“And if I am?” Emma replied, walking out of the shadows of the house with her hands on her hips. “It is truly no business of yours, Mr. Kingsley.”

He gave her a devilish smile. “I suppose it’s not. Unless you want me to do the job.”

Could he mean what she thought? She frowned in frustration. She was too innocent for trading barbs with him. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“Do not fret. I don’t involve myself with virtuous girls like you.”

Emma wanted to be insulted, but this man frightened her with their every encounter. Tonight was the first time she’d said more than a quick good day to him. But it was time to start facing him and speaking her mind...to him and everyone.

“Good, then stay out of my affairs.” She moved to return inside but stopped with his words.

“Of course, if you are truly attempting to ruin yourself, Simpson will do it with no remorse at all, and speak of the affair to everyone.”

He couldn’t possibly know that. Mr. Simpson acted like a perfect gentleman while they danced. They had discussed all things proper, the weather, the Season, and the possibility that the King might make an appearance at a ball next week. Absolutely nothing unsuitable had passed from Mr. Simpson’s lips.

She took another step toward the door and her security. “Mr. Simpson was a gentleman the entire time we danced.”

“Do you know he loves nothing more than to take an innocent lady’s virtue? And then speak of it to anyone who will consent to listen.” He strode to her and then turned her to face him. “Is that what you desire, angel? Do you want to know that your virtue means nothing to the man to whom you give it?”

Emma trembled from the shock of his words and his hot breath on her cheek. “How could you know what manner of man Simpson is?”

“Because he would boast without hesitation about his conquests in my gaming hell to anyone within hearing,” he whispered harshly. “He is only invited to these balls because he is the heir apparent to his uncle’s title and wealth. And some father will be so careless as to let his daughter marry the vile man for that title.”

She glanced down at his large hand, still clasped on her forearm. Her insides quaked, but she refused to let him see that his strength scared her. He caused her stomach to feel as if butterflies had taken up residence, and she didn’t like it or him. The only way to escape him seemed to be to agree with him.

“Very well, I shall take your words under consideration.” She broke free of his grip and raced back into the ballroom. Glancing around, she wondered where all the footmen with wine happened to go. Right now, she would love to start number three of her list.

“Emma, might I have a word?” Louisa asked.