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)
“Hello,” Emma said in a cheerful voice as she walked into the dining room, her head held high as if she were the lady of the house.
Standing, I glanced at the door, expecting Alice to appear, but she had not yet caught up with Emma it would seem. “Where is Alice?” I asked, unsure how to explain her appearance.
Emma gazed up at me with a challenge in her eyes. “I am not quite sure,” she told me.
That response could mean many things. However, asking her questions in front of company was going to get me nowhere with Emma. “Let’s go to the kitchen,” I told her, but she did not move.
“The sweets are in here, Ashington,” she said, walking toward the table.
She wasn’t going to obey without a scene and it was past the point that I could usher her out without an introduction. Sighing in defeat of the situation, I turned back to my guests. “This is Emma. Emma, this is Lord and Lady Wellington.”
Emma gave them her brightest of smiles. “It is very nice to meet you,” she said then climbed into a chair closest to the pastries and leaned over to pluck one from the tray. “I believe this is jam. What do you think?” she asked Lady Wellington as she held it in her small hand.
“It does look like strawberry jam,” Lady Wellington agreed, watching Emma with curiosity on her face.
“I do love strawberry jam,” Emma said then lowered herself into the chair she had used as a stool before taking a large bite.
“There are few things tastier than a tart filled with strawberry jam,” Lady Wellington agreed.
Emma nodded her head enthusiastically.
“Oh,” Miriam’s surprised tone as she entered the room only made this situation more dire. I had not prepared for this. Emma’s introduction to Miriam was to be something well planned and organized. Throwing her in the face of my company such as this and expecting them to not only accept her but keep her existence a secret was asking too much, I was afraid. Yet it was what I must do. Emma had left me no other choice in the matter.
“Please, have a seat, honey. There are a delicious array of pastries and we have a lovely guest to enjoy them with,” Lady Wellington beamed brightly at her niece.
Miriam walked slowly into the room, casting a gaze my way that wasn’t questioning or confused like one would expect, but more…concerned. Who was it she was concerned for? Me? Herself? Emma?
“Good morning, Emma,” Miriam said, taking the seat beside her and silencing the entire room. One could hear a pin drop, and in that moment, I realized Miriam Bathurst had been keeping her own secret.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Miriam Bathurst
Seeing Emma in the dining room wasn’t what I had expected to see this morning. My walk from the bedchamber to here had been torturous because I was sure my aunt would see the guilt on my face from what had taken place last night between Ashington and me. However, I still could not make myself regret it. I wasn’t sure a girl could regret something such as that. She could, however, fear her family finding out.
Emma sitting at the table as my aunt smiled brightly at her and my uncle gaped at her had not been what I thought I’d walk into this morning. I could tell by the look of panic on Ashington’s face that Emma’s appearance had been one orchestrated by Emma alone. I did feel sympathy for Ashington, for I knew he did not plan on introducing Emma to us this way if at all. Something I should remember when my thoughts wanted to trust him and believe we might have a future.
Emma turned in her seat at my greeting and she smiled at me mischievously with her mouth full of sweet pastry. “Did you have to come searching for the sweets this morning?” I asked her. “Tis a good thing you came here then. There seems to be an abundance,” I said as I took the seat beside her.
She managed to swallow her mouth full. “It will be worth it even after Alice finds me,” she said with such passion I chuckled.
“I believe you are right. Have they brought you hot chocolate yet?” I asked her.
She shook her head no and frowned, looking around toward the doorway where a servant stood looking as panicked as Ashington had seemed. “I do so hope they bring it soon before I choke,” she told me.
“Indeed,” I agreed then smiled at the young server. “Might Lady Emma and I have some hot chocolate?” I asked her.
The server glanced warily toward Ashington, who nodded once, and then scurried out of the room back toward the kitchen, where I was sure she would tell everyone of who had come to the dining room.