“What a place this is?” Charity murmured at her side as she joined her, accompanying Emily as her chaperone.
“Grand indeed.”
“Invited to teas such as this, soon the whole of the ton will know of your courtship.”
She is right. This courtship cannot be a secret, can it? That would be impossible! Whoever wrote that letter would know of it soon, even if they do not already.
Since Emily’s last letter, she had been trying her best to cover up her unease and fear. She did not want to be driven away from Lord Tattershall, not by someone who could merely be jealous of the two of them. She was happy at last! Falling in love with a man like Lord Tattershall, how could she not be? Yet the longer she tried to ignore the letter, the more she felt it was burning a hole in a reticule back at her house. She had stuffed all the remnants of her Pomona green reticule into the other one, hoping to hide it there from view.
Today, those fears were harder to hide than usual. Perhaps it was time, thinking more and more on the letter as time passed, or perhaps it was the house before her, impressing her with its grandness and making her feel very small indeed.
“Are you here to see my father or my brother?” The voice made Emily whip her head round to see Lord Hugh stepping out of a nearby room. There were no pleasantries, not even a smile or a bobbed bow. He accosted her at once with a suspicious glare and did not seem to remember that they had met before.
Charity moved forward and Lord Hugh’s eyes flicked to her, as if seeing her for the first time.
“Lord Hugh,” she hurried to curtsy. “It is good to see you again.” She hoped her gentle reminder would handle matters, but it didn’t. He merely seemed to frown again. “Lady Emily Bolton,” she explained herself, gesturing to her chest. “This is my mother, the Countess of Dowding. We are here to see your brother and mother.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” He nodded, though he still stared at her, with something of confusion in him. “You are not quite what I expected.”
The words made Emily freeze, with her fingers clenching over the reticule in front of her.
“What were you expecting?” she said after a minute when she realized he was not going to look away, only keep glaring.
“Someone a little different,” Lord Hugh said with a shrug. “When I heard my brother was to court a young lady, you are just not what I pictured. I pictured someone more like…” He trailed off. Emily did not need to ask him who, for they both knew who he meant.
Miss Jane Drew. The woman Lord Tattershall thought he would marry.
The sentiment was all so similar to what had been written in her letters, that Emily wasn’t good enough, she couldn’t help wondering if Lord Hugh had something to do with them, but she dismissed the idea the next moment. Lord Hugh would have no cause to write such letters to her.
“Perhaps you would be kind enough to take me to your brother?” Emily asked, decidedly having had enough of this moment. She was there to see Lord Tattershall, not to be insulted by his brother.
Charity was bristling at Emily’s side, clearly startled by the conversation that was passing.
In the distance of the house, a door closed, and footsteps followed, signifying someone was on their way.
“It sounds like he is coming for you himself.” Lord Hugh turned away, disappearing through the doorway where he had first appeared. He had not bothered bowing in parting or uttering any pleasantries at all.
Emily breathed heavily, glancing down at her attire, and suddenly feeling so self-conscious that she hurried to straighten the dress, more than a few times over.
“What was that about?” Charity asked her in a whisper.
“I am not sure I could explain it.”
“Lady Emily.” That familiar voice made her stop and look up, feeling a smile break through her sadness momentarily as her eyes met Lord Tattershall’s once he appeared on the staircase. “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” she whispered, feeling warmth spread through her body as he hurried forward, taking her hand. He greeted Charity before he turned his focus on Emily once again.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his perception breaking through her barriers instantly.
“No, it does not matter,” she whispered, glancing toward the doorway through which Lord Hugh had left.
“Something is wrong. Emily, what is it?”
Emily was saved from answering as the Duchess of Parson hurried down the staircase next.
* * *
“I will escort Lady Emily home, mother.” Aaron took his mother’s hand in a goodbye before he climbed into the carriage to follow Lady Emily, where she perched there with her maid sat opposite.
