“You invitedhim? Why, Beatrice? You know about everything that happened.”
Beatrice sagged miserably. “It would be too pointed an insult for me to exclude him. I don’t want to start a feud. Besides, Anna said that things were peaceful between your family and him.”
“Anna is right,” Emily said quickly, shooting a look at her twin which she hoped meantbe quiet. “I hold no grudge against the duke. And this is your house, Beatrice. You can invite whoever you like.”
Beatrice smiled gratefully. “I’m glad everything was smoothed over.”
Daphne nibbled on her lower lip, catching Emily’s eye.
They hadn’t discussed what the duke had said to Emily, and Daphne had not pushed for answers. For her part, Emily only wanted to think over what he’d said. He’d proposed to heragain. The blackmail aspect was still there, but it was a little more palatable this time. And shedidwant to reveal herself as Anon, just in her own time.
A tingle of excitement rolled down her spine. Would marrying the duke be the worst thing in the world? She had five days—no, fivenights, he had said, whatever that meant—to think it over.
“He proposed to me again yesterday,” Emily burst out, before she could stop herself.
The three of them stopped what they were doing—Beatrice, pinning pearls into her hair; Anna, sewing up the new tear in Daphne’s robes; and Daphne, admiring her bronze owl figurine—and turned to stare at her.
“Thecheek,” Daphne gasped.
“I am surprised,” Beatrice remarked. “After the humiliation you two caused on what was meant to be your wedding day, I thought he’d never want to contemplate marriage again.”
Anna said nothing, only taking a pin out of her mouth and jabbing it viciously into the folds of fabric. Emily hoped that her sister would have no pins nearby the next time she encountered the Duke of Clapton.
For some reason, Emily did not mention the former Duke of Clapton’s will and its conditions. It explained his eagerness to marry and disinterest in finding love or anything beyond a like-minded woman, but somehow that did not feel right to discuss. It was his business.
“I hope you told himno,” Daphne muttered, quietly furious.
“I told him I would think about it,” Emily admitted.
“You could have done worse,” Beatrice allowed.
Anna cast a shrewd glance at her sister. “Do you find him attractive?”
Emily flinched. “What sort of question is that?”
“An entirely reasonable one.”
“It hardly matters.”
Yes.That was the answer. Emilydidfind him attractive. There was something thrillingly lupine about his features, and those mesmerizing dark green eyes had a tendency to transfix. Hewashandsome, and there was no sense in denying it. But she was determined that it would not influence her decision. Surely she was too clever for such a thing.
“How long do you have to think about it?” Beatrice enquired.
Emily breathed out. The nerves were coming back. She was never in her element at parties and balls and masquerades, not like her sisters.
“Five days,” she answered.
It seemed silly to explain that it was actually fivenights.
“That’s plenty of time to make a sound decision.” Beatrice nodded.
She tilted her head, and they all heard it then—the rumble of carriage wheels on gravel. She sighed, hurrying over to the window and peering out.
“It’ll be the first guests,” she murmured. “There’s always somebody who arrives early. Probably Lord and Lady Barrow. They like to leave early, so they arrive early. Or maybe Mrs—” she broke off abruptly. “No, it’s somebody else. It’s… No, I recognize that crest.”
She paused, glancing over her shoulder at Emily.
“Emmie, the Duke of Clapton is here.”