Simply Voracious by Kate Pearce

color high, and briefly touched his cheek. “Oh, no, you are far too busy, and Seamus Kelly is waiting for me outside.”
    Ambrose bowed. “As you wish, Miss Ross. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”
    “I’m sure I won’t,” Emily groaned before switching her attention to Paul. “Aren’t you supposed to be escorting Lucky to the same ball?” Her eyes narrowed. “And by the way, I’m still not sure what is going on with this engagement, but I will find out.”
    Paul smiled innocently at her. “Lucky is indisposed this evening, so I came to see my old friend Ambrose. I don’t see him much now that I no longer participate in the games upstairs.”
    For a moment, Emily looked mutinous. “I wish I was allowed to participate in those games.”
    “You aren’t old enough, Miss Ross,” Ambrose said.
    “Why not? Lisette was allowed up there when she was my age.”
    “Lisette was brought up quite differently from you.”
    “That’s not an excuse.” Emily pouted. “Sometimes I wish Helene had brought me up instead of my own mother. She was afraid of her own shadow.”
    Ambrose didn’t say anything to that, and Paul decided to hold his tongue too.
    “All right, I’ll go.” Emily picked up her gloves and Ambrose draped her cloak around her shoulders. She looked up into his face. “You can keep the book. We can discuss it next time I’m here.”
    “You’re not supposed to be here, Miss Ross,” Ambrose replied. “You know that.”
    “And I don’t care what my father says. I have as much right to be here as everyone else in the family. Richard has even been allowed to become a member!”
    Paul walked over to the back door and opened it. The large bulk of Seamus Kelly leaned against the back wall, and Paul winked at him. “The lady is ready to be escorted home, Mr. Kelly.”
    Seamus straightened up. “At your service, Miss Ross.”
    Emily swept out of the kitchen, ignoring both Ambrose and Paul, and smiled up at Seamus. “Thank you.”
    Paul shut the door and turned to face Ambrose, who stood by the table looking down at the book. There was an expression on his face that Paul found hard to interpret.
    “Emily Ross is a handful,” Paul remarked as he took a seat and waited for Ambrose to join him.
    “She has a point though, doesn’t she? Everyone else in her family gets to do what they want here, except her.”
    “Would you like to see her up in the pleasure house, Ambrose?”
    “I would like . . .” Ambrose met Paul’s gaze and stopped speaking. “What I would like is immaterial. It is not my place to judge the Delornay-Ross family.”
    Paul studied Ambrose intently. “Are you fond of Emily, my friend?”
    “Of course I’m fond of her.” Ambrose fidgeted with the cover of the book. “I’ve known her for years, and her family has been very good to me.”
    “When I said ‘fond,’ perhaps I should have been more specific. You’re in love with the girl, aren’t you?”
    Ambrose’s gaze flew to Paul’s. “Don’t be absurd.”
    “I don’t think I am being absurd.” Paul searched his friend’s face. “But all’s well, as it appears that she is quite ‘fond’ of you too.”
    Ambrose abruptly rose. “As I said, she has known me for years. She sees me as some kind of brother.”
    “No, I don’t think she does. I think she comes here to see you.” Paul shook his head. “Why didn’t I notice it before?”
    “Because it is complete nonsense!” Ambrose snapped. “Now, why are you here tonight?”
    Paul opened his eyes wide. He’d never seen Ambrose close to losing his temper before. Was it worth pursuing a subject that his friend obviously found so uncomfortable? He of all people knew that unrequited love was a delicate subject at the best of times, even between good friends. He decided that in this case discretion was the better part of valor.
    “I’m here to see my affianced bride.”
    Ambrose stared at him. “Lady Lucinda Haymore, the person you just told Miss Emily was