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“I would, but may we go after my morning ride?”
Betty gave her an indulgent look. “That will be perfectly acceptable. I know how much you enjoy riding.”
“Thank you.” Emmeline walked over to her bed and sat down.
Her aunt walked to the door. “Would you like for me to send Mary back in?”
“Yes, please.”
Betty opened the door and said over her shoulder, “Goodnight, Emmeline.”
“Goodnight, Aunt Betty.”
Emmeline dropped back onto her bed, her head resting on her pillow. She knew what she wanted to do but was she strong enough to put herself in a vulnerable situation? It would be horrifying if Lord Oliver refused her. But what choice did she have? She truly did not want to marry the duke, and she didn’t want to enter a life of servitude either.
Lord Oliver may be a rake, but he could make her laugh. She might not have love in her life, but she would have friendship. Which was more than what the duke was offering.
The door opened, and her lady’s maid stepped into the room. “Are you ready to undress for bed, Miss?”
“I have come to a decision,” Emmeline announced.
“You have?”
Emmeline sat up on her bed. “I am going to speak to Lord Oliver tomorrow.”
Mary clasped her hands together. “I think that is a brilliant choice.”
“We shall see.”
Walking closer to the bed, Mary asked, “When will you go speak to him?”
“On my morning ride,” Emmeline replied. “I can ride over to Hawthorne House and no one would be the wiser.”
“Aren’t you supposed to take grooms along on your rides?”
Emmeline smiled mischievously. “Not tomorrow.”
Oliver adjusted hiswhite cravat as he descended the stairs. The smell of food wafted out of the dining room and into the entry hall.
“Good morning, milord,” Pratt greeted from the base of the stairs.
Oliver stopped in front of the butler. “Good morning, Pratt,” he replied. “Will you ensure my horse is brought out front?”
“As you wish.”
“Thank you,” Oliver said before he headed towards the dining room.
As he stepped into the rectangular room, he saw his brother sitting at the head of the table.
Baldwin lowered the newspaper in his hand. “You don’t look entirely awful this morning,” he commented.
Oliver chuckled. “I didn’t stay out all evening, if that is what you are referring to.”
“That is good.”
Stepping over to the buffet table, Oliver picked up a plate and piled food onto it. “I must admit that it feels good to have a good night’s sleep.” He sat down at the table. “Anything interesting in the newspaper?”
“The debate about workhouses continues to rage on,” Baldwin shared, “and everyone is of the consensus that the Poor Laws need to be updated.”
