Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“I question that and her certificate of birth, my lord. She’s much too… advanced and difficult to be so young.”
I had no question of her age. I knew full well the timeline in which her mother must have conceived her. Solange Bisset had once been my mistress for well over a year when we ended our agreement. Emma’s eyes had been the only proof I’d required when she’d arrived on my doorstep a year ago. Seeing them staring up at me, I had known she was a Compton.
“Emma, it’s time you go with Alice to the nursery. I will tell you all about the ball tomorrow over breakfast. How does that sound?”
Her mood brightened and she nodded her head with enthusiasm. I doubted Alice would manage to convince Emma to take a nap today. She was full of energy. Emma turned and headed to the door quickly. “Make haste Alice, I must take a nap.”
Alice glanced at me and the weariness in her eyes was amusing. Emma could keep one on their toes. She needed a mother and of that I was certain. Solange hadn’t been much of a one to her before she left her in the hands of a stranger. I would not allow another Compton child to be treated as I had been in this house. Her illegitimacy, I was working hard to cover up, although I wasn’t certain my lie would hold solid. Not with Emma’s ability to use the English language so well at such a tender age. The child’s memory was incredible and that I regretted simply because there were things I wished she could forget.
The door closed with a soft click and I reached for my drink once more. Emma had changed everything for me. My future especially. There was no longer time for me to waste. The grudge I once harbored for my stepmother was forgotten. The riding accident that had taken her life last year ended any untoward feelings I had toward the woman. The hatred I received from my brother, however, especially after his mother’s death, as if that had been my fault, was of no consequence. Not when I had Emma to consider. When Emma arrived here, I had planned on finding her a good home with a distant relative in the country. A place where she could grow and be trained to be something as ambitious as a Governess.
Within a fortnight of her arrival, I had known she would stay here. There was no sending her away when she could be given the life she deserved. I had a chance to give her a good home, to be raised properly, and I fully intended to do just that. My plan would begin with a proper wife that was willing to accept Emma as my child. Lydia appeared fit for the position. I did hope I was not wrong.
Chapter Three
Miss Miriam Bathurst
I had often read the word “lavishness” and I understood it well enough, but I had not, until this moment, experienced it. The word was an intriguing one that I liked to say aloud for the way it rolled off my tongue, yet being placed in the center of such a description was surreal. My books hadn’t given adequate description to a ball being held at the home of nobility. I realized now that Whitney’s fanciful ideas may hold more truth than I had believed. I was already writing her letter in my head as I took in the entire experience. She would need all the details I could give her. The society balls were something I was determined to give her one day, but for now, I would describe them in a way that she felt as if she were here herself.
Aunt Harriet was beside me and I glanced at her to see if she too were in awe by our surroundings. Her expression didn’t appear to be anything other than typical. She turned her head to smile at me. “And so it begins,” she said then did a small gesture with her hand as if she were offering me a buffet of food to choose from. In truth, I had no idea what we were to do, and this might have been why my mother requested I had a proper chaperone. I was sure Aunt Harriet had no idea what was to happen next either.
“Lady Wellington, I presume?” We both turned at the use of my aunt’s proper title. That was something that often caused her to chuckle and I was thankful she hadn’t done so tonight. The woman in front of us was the Duchess of Rothesborne and tonight’s hostess. Although I had never met her, I had done my studies in preparation for the season.
“Yes, hello,” my aunt began, and I quickly curtsied before she could mess this up. “Your Grace,” I said and my aunt realized her mistake and followed my greeting.