The Harlow Hoyden Read Online Free PDF Page B

my dear.”
    Emma chose to ignore the slight. It was not that she didn’t have a sense of propriety; it was simply that she so rarely heeded it. Doing things the proper way was dreadful dull. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve done your duty and warned me off. You can go home to Roger with a clear conscience.”
    Sarah knew better than to protest. Her concern for Emma was indeedtied to her concern for her husband. “It’s just that we care about you, dear, and want to see you happy. That’s all anybody wants, dear.”
    Emma seriously doubted that. Her mother, Margaret, never concerned herself with her daughters’ happiness. She was too selfish for that. All she wanted was to get her progeny out of her hair, and if the match happened to lead to happiness, well, she hoped herdaughters weren’t ninnyhammers enough to believe that it would last. Her own marriage had been a disaster, and for some reason she held everyone but herself responsible. “I am happy,” Emma said, smiling as the duke approached with glasses of ratafia. At least she was now that she had a plan for extricating her sister from that awful Sir Windbag.
    A blond boy with long limbs accompanied Lord Trentand instantly annoyed Emma with his very presence. They seemed embroiled in a conversation and despite the duke’s frequent head shakes, the boy persisted in the unwelcomed topic. Excellent, thought Miss Harlow, now when I get him alone and present my scheme he will be too cross to listen. She sent the young boy a scathing look, but he misinterpreted it as friendly and introduced himself.
    “MissHarlow, I cannot tell you what an honor it is to meet you. Surely it is,” he said, standing a shade too close and talking loudly into her ear. “I am Philip Keswick, Trent’s cousin.” He didn’t bow or kiss her hand or do anything ingratiating. “I’m from Yorkshire, but I know who you are. You are famous, after all. Three hours and fifty-seven minutes! There is nothing like it and from a woman, noless. I heard Sir Leopold didn’t go out into society for a whole year. Is that true, do you think? ”
    Unable to remember just how long Sir Leopold had sequestered himself—it was more than six months but certainly not as long as a whole year—Emma looked from the duke to young Philip and raised an eyebrow. She was hard pressed not to laugh. To think that she had mistaken the duke for this cawker.One could not compliment this country cousin on his town bronze.
    “I say, Philip, it’s rude not to wait for an introduction,” the duke observed before handing Emma her ratafia.
    “Introduction, bah!” he dismissed. “An out-and-outer like Miss Harlow don’t stand on ceremony.”
    “She may not but I do.”
    His voice was strict, and Emma observed a blush creeping up the boy’s neck. She instantlyfelt sorry for him. “A thing easily remedied, your grace. Mr. Keswick, allow me to introduce my sister-in-law to you, Sarah Harlow.”
    Philip fell in line reluctantly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he muttered before performing a less than graceful bow over her hand. “How d’you do?”
    Sarah’s lips twitched. “I’m well, sir, and yourself?”
    It was clear from the look in the boy’s eyes that therewere many answers to that question, but he reined himself in in time and said only, “Enjoying my first season, ma’am.”
    “Are you?” asked Emma, some imp urging her on. “Then you’re very lucky, Mr. Keswick. I found my first season to be dreadful dull.”
    “Did you? This is my very first ball, and I have to say that it isn’t at all what I was expecting.” He tugged again at his cravat. “To be completelyhonest, I have found doing the society rounds very constr—” He seemed in the verge of giving spleen to a great many complaints, but the duke interceded.
    “Isn’t that a waltz I hear?” he asked, interrupting his charge.
    “Is it?” Philip cocked an ear. He didn’t know the difference between the tempo of a waltz and a