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CHAPTERSEVEN
The next afternoon, Emily stood near the entrance of Hyde Park, her footman stationed next to her as per her brother’s instructions.
She’d not been able to slip away and meet Mirabelle without a servant in attendance as she might have a week ago.
Lord Smith’s attention had her brother’s watchful gaze trained directly at Emily. Her brother had lectured her for a solid quarter hour the day before about accepting a ride from Lord Smith when their own carriage was on its way to the orphanage.
She’d nodded and said little.
Again, words failed her. She ought to have told him how she’d just made a mistake. Though, she hadn’t.
Or perhaps she should have stood up and declared her romantic feelings for Lord Smith. Feelings no man had matched. Should she have demanded her right to choose her future? Not that she wanted to choose Lord Smith. He’d hurt her yesterday with his declaration she ought to marry Somersworth.
But still. She should have some say in her own path. It was her right.
While she had a dowry that was under her brother’s control, she also had a significant inheritance from her mother, money that Emily could live off comfortably for the rest of her life.
But she hadn’t reminded him of that either. Instead, she’d listened attentively as he’d lectured her about the carriage ride and then he’d left with Upton and Somersworth to go who knows where.
Their gentleman’s club? Their boxing club? Somewhere even more interesting?
It all seemed unfair. She wasn’t even allowed to go to the park, for heaven’s sake.
Mirabelle’s family carriage came into sight, pulling off to the side to unload its passengers.
But Mirabelle wasn’t the first person to step from the vehicle. Lord Smith ducked out the door, large and imposing, and stealing her breath in an instant.
Emily cursed herself. She didn’t want to like him.
A second gentleman stepped out of the carriage looking a great deal like Lord Smith, albeit a younger version.
Same brown hair, same broad shoulders.
He handed out Mirabelle and the three of them started toward Emily as she reminded herself to breathe.
Mirabelle waved as the footman cleared his throat. “Did Baron Boxby know you were having an outing with mixed company?”
“I didn’t know,” she replied, in a whisper. She hadn’t. She’d expected this meeting to be with Mirabelle. Of course, she’d known that the family didn’t have servants, hence why Mirabelle’s brothers squired her everywhere. Why did one of them have to be Ace?
“Emily.” Mirabelle waved again. “You came.”
“Of course, I did.” Emily gave a falsely bright smile, nerves fluttering in her belly. Not only was Ace causing the riot in her stomach but she’d lied to Mirabelle yesterday, a falsehood her brother had uncovered when he’d called her out in front of their townhouse yesterday. Emily winced at the memory. Was Mirabelle upset?
As the tall brunette moved closer, she unhooked her hand from her escort’s arms and held out her hands to Emily. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“I’m glad too,” Emily replied, clasping Mirabelle’s hands.
“This is my brother, Lord Rushton,” Mirabelle said and then looked back. “Rush, this is Miss Boxby.”
“Pleasure,” he said with a quick jerk of his chin.
Mirabelle gave her fingers a squeeze and then linked her arm with Emily’s, starting down the wide path. It was early in the day, not yet two in the afternoon, and well before the fashionable time, so the paths were fairly clear of other people as they made their way through the park. Leaves rustled crisply in the breeze, the fall air crisp and cool as they walked.
She looked back to see Lord Smith, Lord Rush, and her footman trailing behind.
“Sorry I had to bring them,” Mirabelle whispered close to her ear. “Something happened yesterday that has all my brothers worried. They of course won’t tell me what the precise event was that has them so concerned. But when I told them I’d help they asked me how and then I told them about your promise and now…” Mirabelle looked back too. “I’m not sure why they’re here. But they insisted on coming. Both of them.”
Emily shook her head. “Please don’t apologize. It’s me who should be saying sorry to you. Yesterday, I didn’t tell you the truth—”
