Talk of the Ton (Free Fellows League 5)

Emily slowly opened her eyes—he was kneeling before her, looking terribly concerned. She had not imagined a moment such as this could be so unbearably romantic and chastised herself for not thinking of it weeks earlier than this. What if she’d fainted at the church social? That would have sped things along quite well.

“Dear God, Miss Forsythe, are you quite all right? Do you feel ill?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” she said weakly.

“Stand aside, son—I’m a physician,” an old man said and leaned down before Emily. Dr. Hamblen’s face loomed so large as he peered into her eyes that she could no longer see Lord Montgomery. Blast it all, Dr. Hamblen was ruining everything! Even worse, several people had gathered round her and were staring at her with fright and concern. All but Tabitha, that was, who appeared on Emily’s left and gazed down at her with complete disdain.

Emily ignored Tabitha and strained to see around Dr. Hamblen—who was now holding two fingers against the pulse in her neck—to see Montgomery.

He was standing back, his hands on his hips, his legs braced apart, watching intently as Dr. Hamblen examined her.

“Her heart is racing a bit, but I think it nothing to fret about,” the doctor proclaimed, straightening, and turning to Montgomery. “She’s a healthy young lady. I’ve seen this sort of thing more than once—young ladies just out become caught up in the sights and sounds of a ball, you see, but their tender constitutions are not mature enough to endure all the excitement.”

“Thank God it’s nothing serious,” Montgomery said and looked at Emily. “My dear Miss Forsythe, you gave me quite a fright,” he said kindly. “I should not have stayed with you so long on the dance floor.”

“Oh, no!” she insisted weakly. “It is not your fault, my lord! I am certain it’s the heat—I find it rather warm in here.”

“A spot of punch will cool her down,” Dr. Hamblen said.

“I’ll fetch it,” Tabitha sighed wearily.

Dr. Hamblen looked at Montgomery and smiled. “You need not fret, my lord. I suggest you go about your evening. I shall keep a close eye on her for a few moments and ensure she is suitably recovered.”

“You’re quite certain?”

“Absolutely,” he said, and Emily imagined kicking the good doctor in the arse.

Montgomery nodded, stepped forward, and lifted Emily’s limp hand to his lips. “Thank you for the honor of your dance,” he said. “And promise me that you will be more careful of vigorous dancing in the future.”

“It wasn’t the dance,” she said again. “I felt perfectly fine. More than fine, really.”

He chuckled as he stepped aside so that Dr. Hamblen might put his hand to her forehead.

A few moments later, when Tabitha returned with the punch, most of the onlookers had wandered off, including Dr. Hamblen, who had peered at her closely and proclaimed her quite recovered. Only two debutantes remained behind, their backs to her, but whispering to one another as they stole glimpses of Emily over their shoulder.

Tabitha sat on the edge of a chair beside Emily and handed her the punch. “How do you feel?” she asked with a bit of sarcasm in her voice that Emily did not care for.

“I am improved, but not fully recovered.” She sipped the punch.

“I’ll stay until you are,” Tabitha said with a sigh, and leaned back in her seat, to have had a look around the room. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Look who’s come, will you? It’s that scoundrel, Lord Connery!”

Emily looked to where Tabitha indicated. “The scoundrel?”

“Have you not heard the rumors about him?” Tabitha asked, lighting up. “Do you recall that we were speaking of the vicar’s widow?” she asked excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Well.” Tabitha paused, glanced around them to make sure no one was too close. “I attended a tea at Lady Southbridge’s just two days past and overheard her remark to Mrs. Bledsoe that Widow Becket would do well to have a care for her reputation, for more than one trustworthy person had seen her traipsing carelessly about Mayfair, unescorted, in the company of Lord Connery!”

“The devil you say!” Emily whispered harshly.

“It’s quite true!” Tabitha insisted. “Lady Southbridge said that they had been seen together in some scandalously disreputable locations and that honestly, it was not the first time since her husband’s tragic death Widow Becket had demonstrated a lack of care in either her whereabouts or the company which she keeps!”

Ah, for the love of God! Emily closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. Lady Southbridge’s atrocious lack of hearing was to blame for this mess. Not Lord Connery! Lord Montgomery! And now what was she to do?

“I really had never thought of her at all until you mentioned it,” Tabitha said.

“Widow Becket is quite free with her affections, you may be sure,” Emily muttered irrit