Page 29 of The Marquess and the Wallflower
“I am.” Yet she did not have time to say anymore. They were all shown upstairs where one by one they were shown to their rooms. Lord Tattershall’s room was one of the first, urging him to take his hand out of Emily’s quickly, and leaving her longing for that touch again.
Emily was one of the last to be shown to her room and once she was inside with her lady’s maid hurrying to her task of unpacking her clothes, Emily retreated to a window seat. She spent a minute or so looking out at the seaside and the people gathered there, smiling with joy, before she turned her attention back to the letter in her hand.
She broke a blank red wax seal, bearing no hint to its sender, before unfurling the paper and lifting it into the sunlight that streamed through the window, to read it carefully.
‘Lady Emily,
I warned you to stay away from Lord Tattershall. Consider it a warning, from a silent friend of yours. Lord Tattershall’s heart rests elsewhere and your association with him can only end in heartbreak for you. Remember, he is destined to be a Duke one day. A handsome man such as he will have to marry one of the finest debutantes in the ton to be the next duchess. The plain youngest daughter of an earl, with a little dowry and not much charm to her, cannot capture his heart. He will choose wealth as well as beauty, someone who strikes a crowd when they walk into the room, not someone who disappears into the shadows.
I mean this in the kindest way possible. Stay away from Lord Tattershall. There is nothing but pain for you there.
Yours etcetera,
A friend.’
Emily felt her fingers begin to tremble around the letter. She did not know whether anger or sadness swelled within her more. Either way, the letter before her was crushing. She read scraps of it again, with her eyes lingering on the most painful parts.
‘…plain youngest daughter of an earl…’
‘…he will choose wealth as well as beauty…not someone who disappears into the shadows…’
“Emily? Are you in here?” There was a soft tap on the door that was ajar.
Emily hurried to hide the letter. She thrust it behind a cushion in the window seat and plastered a fake smile on her cheeks as she turned to see Julia and Grace walk in.
“We are going for a walk,” Grace said excitedly. “Arthur and Lord Tattershall are to come too. Would you like to accompany us?”
“Y-yes, of course.” Emily stood to her feet, stammering with the words. Her mind was reeling too much in shock from what she had read. Who was the letter writer? How did they know to write to her here? How could they label themselves a friend in that letter when they said such hurtful things?
“Excellent! Let us be quick though,” Grace said, beckoning Emily to follow as she stepped out of the door. “Mama and Papa will want us back for dinner.” As Grace disappeared, Emily felt Julia’s keen gaze turn toward her.
“What has happened?” Julia asked as she looped her arm through Emily’s own.
“I am not sure I could explain it if I tried.” Emily shook her head. How could she speak of what she had read to anyone?
* * *
Emily could not stop looking at the reflection. She was standing on the promenade now that the tide had come in, staring down at the waves that bobbed the water softly back and forth. A wavy reflection of her face and figure stared back at her. Occasionally, the wave made her look even bigger than she was. The mere sight of it made her clutch her reticule in front of her, as if she could mask some of the reflection.
She was so busy staring at it, that she could just about hear Arthur, Julia and Grace talking some distance in front of her. They were all walking down the promenade, laughing about something together. Emily was so attentive to marking everything that was wrong in her face, all the lines she wished were different, that she jumped when a figure appeared beside her.
Lord Tattershall’s reflection stepped beside her own. He was wearing a long frock coat today with a dress cane in his grasp and a top hat on his head, with the long coat that finished around his knees buffeting in the wind. In that reflection, Emily thought he could have been the captain on the deck of the ship in the book she was reading. The hero destined to capture the heart of the heroine.
Then her eyes flicked back to her own reflection.I am not that woman.
“You are staring at the ocean so avidly, I wonder what you are really staring at,” he said softly, his voice muffled due to the wind and the waves. “Are there particularly interesting fish to capture your attention?”
“I am not staring at anything so interesting,” she said with a sigh, thinking on what the letter had said about her. “I am staring at myself.”
“Then I’d say you are looking at something very interesting indeed.”
“Do not tease me, my lord, not now,” Emily said with a sad smile, finding any temptation she had to jest, and laugh was completely gone.
“You are worrying me, Lady Emily. You are always in the mood to laugh about something.” He stepped closer toward her, nudging her arm with his and staring down at the reflections too. “Tell me, what do you see when you look at that reflection?”
“I see…” Emily paused, thinking on the letter. “Plainness. I see someone who has unfortunately not inherited their family’s beauty.” She whispered the words, knowing she was revealing some of her inner most thoughts to Lord Tattershall.
“This is maddening.” Lord Tattershall’s voice was surprisingly fierce. It managed to make her look up from the water at last, turning her eyes to him.
