“Is Lady Emily not at home?” Everton asked.

“She is feeling unwell,” Lord Falburton said, each word punctuated as if affirming there would be no more questions about it.

“I would like to speak to her.”

Lord Silverstone eyed him closely now, as he should. Lady Emily deserved a lot of qualities in her future husband, including not being old enough to be her father. Lord Silverstone should know what Lady Emily could have and should have if he weren’t in her way.

“An introduction, perhaps?” Lord Silverstone asked.

“Lord Silverstone,” said Lord Falburton, “this is Lord Bryant.” Lord Silverstone’s jaw clenched upon hearing his name. Good. His reputation had preceded him. “Lord Bryant, this is Lord Silverstone, Lady Emily’s newly betrothed.”

“So I have heard.”

Lord Silverstone’s expression, which had, up until now, looked as though he had been spun in a circle and dropped in a stream, now took on a harder edge. “What do you want with Lady Emily?”

Lord Bryant smiled. That was an easy question for any respectable rake to answer. “What do you think I want?”

Lord Silverstone leapt forward and stopped just shy of grabbing Everton’s lapels. “I know enough about you to know your intentions cannot be honorable. I would bid you not seek out my betrothed ever again.”

“And how honorable are your intentions?”

Lord Silverstone furrowed his eyebrows. “We are engaged to be married. How much more honorable could I be?”

“From where I stand, it would be much more honorable to marry a woman who isn’t less than half your age.” The blood drained from Lord Silverstone’s face. Everton had hit the mark. Good. “I would like to repeat my desire to see Lady Emily.”

Lord Falburton’s lips formed a hard line. “And I will repeat that she is feeling unwell.”

“I shall be the judge of that,” Everton said.

Lady Emily’s room would be upstairs, most likely the room with a view of the street, for he doubted anyone else in the house would have been moving the curtain about on the upper story of the home while he had been waiting outside. He spun on his heel.

“Lord Bryant!” It was as if the whole of the household decided to call his name at once. He ignored them all, dashing out of the drawing room door and shutting it behind him. They would be behind him instantly. Even Mrs. Cuthbert would likely chase him down for his foolishness. But waiting outside on the street had stirred a restlessness inside of him, and it wouldn’t settle until he had seen Lady Emily with his own two eyes.

This was a lamb he wouldn’t allow Society to lead to the slaughter.

He ran to the foot of the stairs only to find the same butler standing there.

“Move aside,” Everton commanded him. The drawing room door was already open. Rushed footsteps and shouts followed him out. He pushed the butler to the side but was surprised by the man’s reflexes and strength as he gripped Everton’s arm and twisted it behind his back. Taken aback, he shook off the butler but not fast enough. Just as he freed himself, two other arms grabbed him.