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“Mary, please send a footman to Lady Huntley’s with a note for my mother stating my intention to attend Almack’s tonight. I will need her to chaperone me.”
“Of course, miss.”
Mary relayed the message to a footman before returning with a towel. “You never told me if you had an enjoyable trip to your sister’s home.”
Enjoyable? Her time there with Kingsley had been enlightening in so many ways. “Yes, I did, but more company than expected arrived, and I decided to cut my time short.”
“Well, that’s too bad, miss. Was that handsome devil there too?”
Handsome devil? “If you mean Lord Ainsley, then yes.”
Mary laughed as she dried Emma off. “I meant Mr. Kingsley, miss. He’s been so good to my cousin. Taking her off the streets and all.”
“What do you mean?”
“My cousin Melissa was, pardon my saying, a soiled dove, miss. Mr. Kingsley took her in and let her work in the gaming room, running drinks for the gents. He made sure she had a place to let that she could afford so she wouldn’t have to go back to her previous position. Because of him, she doesn’t have to send her little boy off to sweep chimneys. He’s a good man if you ask me.”
Simon Kingsley, a good man? She had never imagined anyone saying such a thing. Usually, the words associated with him were rake, scoundrel, and on occasion, murderer. Although, everyone knew he hadn’t killed that man in the duel seven years ago. He shot him in the right shoulder. It wasn’t Kingsley’s fault that the surgeon didn’t get all the clothing bits out of the wound, and infection set in.
Emma thought back to that night at Hell. The other wench had told her Melissa was watching the hats. Emma couldn’t help but wonder if Melissa did other things for Kingsley, like one with the red hair. For Mary’s sake, Emma hoped not.
“Was he there, miss?”
“Yes, he was there.” And kissed me senseless, she added to herself, not that she needed a reminder.
“Oh.” Mary tossed a shift over her. “There we are, miss.”
After dressing in a shift and dressing gown, Emma sat at her dressing table while Mary worked on her hair.
“Thank you, Mary. I feel so much better now.”
“Will you be seeing Lord Ainsley at Almack’s tonight? Now there’s a good catch if you don’t mind me saying.”
Except he kissed like the brother she never had. “I doubt it. He was at Worth Hall when I left.”
Mary gasped. “You left Worth Hall while he was there? Oh, miss, I must tell you that your mother assumes there will be a match.”
Of course, her mother assumed it. Ainsley was an impoverished earl, thereby perfect for Emma. “There will be no match.”
A commotion from the hall indicated her mother’s return. She entered the room like a blast of cold air. “Emma, how wonderful that you have decided to attend Almack’s this evening. I heard Mr. Stanton shall be in attendance tonight. You should stay near me until he comes by, and Lady Huntley will introduce us. I hear he has fifteen a year. Imagine that!”
“And yet, no title.”
“Hush and be happy with whatever you can get at this point.”
Emma wanted to shake her head, but Mary was in the middle of pinning up her hair. “Mamma, why would Mr. Stanton be interested in me if he already has a fortune?”
“Even though you’re nearly a spinster at the age of two and twenty, you still have your looks, and that is enough for some men. Mary, as soon as you finish with Emma, come help me dress,” her mother said before leaving.
Emma sighed. At some point, she would have to admit to her mother that she had no intention of marrying. Mamma would nod be happy with that news. But Emma had far too many things left on her list before her mother needed to learn of her decision.
Chapter 13
Emma glanced out the carriage window as they slowed to a stop on King Street in front of the hallowed institution of Almack’s. Her nerves tingled as she disembarked. She’d never thought she would be nervous about getting banned from this dreadful place finally. While she’d endured the balls over the years, Almack’s was about as dull as a conversation with a rock. The patronesses were the most demanding group of ladies Emma had ever met.
“Come along, Emma.” Her mother clasped her elbow and tugged her toward the door.
“Of course, Mamma.” She still wondered how her mother managed to secure these exclusive vouchers each year. Mamma was the niece of Baron Greyson, but he hadn’t moved about in Society for over a decade. Emma assumed Lady Huntley's influence had something to do with it.
