Page 42 of Vanquishing the Viscount

Emma took the proffered paper in trembling fingers and broke the seal.

My dear Miss d’Ibert,

I am writing to thank you for your recent care of me. You will be pleased to hear that I am now quite well recovered and able to put in place a scheme which I expect will be pleasing to your family. I have acquired a new townhouse in Daniel Street in Bath on behalf of your parents. There will be sufficient funds left over from my purchase of the Tresham estate to provide a modest annual allowance which will, if expenditure is moderate, secure your parents’ comfort in their declining years. As for yourself, I have interceded with my mother, and she is willing to sponsor you for the Season in Bath. You will reside at the Rossbury house in Great Pulteney Street. All your expenses while there will be borne by them. All I ask, my dear Miss d’Ibert, is that you conceal from the countess the nature of your association with my friend Charles and his family, as I have done. I think she will not understand that you have had to earn your own living.

With sincere affection,

Yours,

Tidworth

The letter slid from her fingers as the air whooshed out of her lungs.

Sponsored for a Season in Bath? This could change everything!

She blinked. But did she want a Season in Bath?

“What is it?” Mama asked. “Shall I fetch the salts? Oh dear. I had hoped it would be news that was pleasing to you.”

Swallowing hard, Emma pushed the letter at her mother. “Read it yourself, and make up your own mind. I hardly know what to think.”

She went back to the window and gazed out across the complex network of gardens, seeking comfort in the familiar sight. For a while, there was nothing but the sound of her mother’s indrawn breath as she read the letter and the loud trickling song of a dunnock in the box hedge outside.

Suddenly Mama was beside her, enfolding her in her arms. “My darling girl, what a wonderful opportunity for you. To be sponsored by the Countess of Rossbury—such an honor!”

Emma submitted to her mother’s rapturous embrace for a moment, then gently disentangled herself. “But it won’t advance me, at all. What’s the point in my dressing up and going to assemblies when I’ve not a penny to my name?”

Mama clicked her tongue. “The patronage of the Rossburys is more valuable than gold. Doors will open for you, and you’ll be able to visit the very best families.”

“And when the Season’s over? What then? Back to live in a townhouse in Bath on a moderate income. What’s the point of making new friends when we can’t afford to entertain them? What’s the point of visiting the best families if I can’t afford the latest fashions to wear or to keep a carriage? No. Enjoyable as a Season in Bath might be, I’d better refuse the offer and return to obscurity at Figheldene.”

Mama looked shocked. “Refuse? You cannot refuse an offer like this! Your father would never permit it. Do you truly wish to offer insult to one of the most ancient names in the land just because the offer is of short duration? Why, as a girl I’d have given my right arm to be so indulged. What matter if you return to live with us at the end of the Season? At least you’ll have lived like a lady again, if only for a little while.” Her mother’s expression became mulish. “No, I’ll not have you going back to Figheldene. That governess idea was a bad one. I don’t know why I ever agreed to it.”

Mama was going to stop her returning to Willie and Mary? But they’d been getting on so well under her tutelage! Was she going to be forced to reinvent herself—again?

“And what will happen when Bath Society finds out I worked as a governess? Everyone will laugh at me for having pretensions above my station.” The last thing she wanted was to live a lie. She already had too much to conceal.

Her mother shook her head. “How will anyone find out?”

“The Keanes will tell them.” And that would raise a scandal. Inevitably, the grim summer when she was toyed with by the Earl of Overcrich would be remembered by everyone, and the gossip mills would spin at staggering speed.

This was a bad idea.

“They’ll keep quiet if the Rossburys ask them to,” Mama countered confidently.

“But the Rossburys won’t do that, will they? Because they don’t know.” She was feeling close to panic now. Why couldn’t Mama see all the risks in accepting this offer? Holding the paper out, she said, “Read the end of the letter again. The viscount has not told his parents of my employment.”

Mama scanned the letter once more, and her face grew grave. “Hmm, I see what you mean. Oh well. Your papa shall write to Tidworth, entreating him to swear the Keanes to secrecy.”

Emma thought about the mischievous Charles and Philippa Keane. She could already see several reasons why they wouldn’t comply with James’s wishes.

“Do you think I want to live a lie? I’ll be tripping over myself trying not to say anything amiss. It will be the worst kind of ordeal—”

Her mother drew herself up and pronounced, “Nonsense! You’ll be the Countess of Rossbury’s protégé. Who would dare utter a word against whomever she decides to prefer? And who’s to say that she won’t take to you and want to keep you as a companion? You are very knowledgable and useful, you know. And maybe one day, Tidworth, too, will recognize your worth.”

Emma gritted her teeth. The last thing she needed was for her family to have expectations in that direction. They would be sorely disappointed.

“Mama, I beg you not to have hopes of Tidworth. He’d never stoop so low.”