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“She is.”
“Will you see if she is accepting callers?”
Drew gave her a look that could only be construed as compassion. “I have no doubt that she will agree to meet with you.”
“I am not so sure.”
The butler gestured towards the drawing room. “Would you care to wait in the drawing room while I inform your aunt that you are here?”
“I would be happy to,” she replied.
As she crossed the tiled entry hall, she couldn’t help but wonder if her aunt would refuse to see her. She truly hoped not, but she wouldn’t be entirely surprised.
Emmeline walked over to the pianoforte and ran her hands over the ivory keys. She closed her eyes, remembering her mother sitting next to her as she taught her how to play. Her mother was always so patient, even though reading the sheet music hadn’t come naturally to her.
Her mother.
She wondered if her mother would have approved of what she had done.
Her aunt’s voice broke through her musings. “You have some nerve showing up here like this.”
Emmeline opened her eyes and met her aunt’s gaze. “I wanted to come and apologize to you and—”
Betty cut her off. “I don’t want your apology,” she spat. “You betrayed us.”
“That was not my intention,” she argued.
“No?” Betty asked. “You were set to be married to the Duke of Billingham tomorrow. A duke!” She tossed her hands in the air. “But instead, you married the lowly second son of a marquess.”
“I know my reasons may be confusing—”
Speaking over her, Betty pressed, “You gave up the chance to be a duchess.”
“I didn’t want to be a duchess!”
Betty looked at her like she was a simpleton. “What a foolish thing to say.”
Clasping her hands in front of her, Emmeline tried again. “I did not come to argue with you, Aunt Betty.”
“No?” she asked. “Then what did you expect would happen?”
“I was hoping to explain why I chose Oliver.”
Aunt Betty walked over to the settee and sat down. “I know perfectly well why you chose Lord Oliver.”
“You do?”
“You did so out of spite.”
Emmeline shook her head. “I did not,” she replied. “Oliver and I have always remained friends, despite what happened with him and Charlotte.”
“You married a rakehell!” Betty exclaimed. “You willingly chose a rakehell over a duke. I shall never understand your reasons.”
“Oliver is more than what he appears,” she attempted.
“Then he has fooled you,” Betty argued. “I hope you realize that all of Society is laughing at your foolhardy decision.”
“I don’t believe that to be true.”
