Page 16 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
Chapter 7
“...and some pearls here, my lady?” Rebecca’s voice was loud in Emmeline’s ear. Emmeline looked up at where her maid was gesturing and saw, in the mirror, the pearl pins positioned on the left side of her hair.
“Yes. Yes,” she said without much thought. Inside, she was numb and cold, like winter had visited her heart. What her hair looked like or how many pearl pins she wore was meaningless to her.
In four or five hours, she would be wed.
“Emmeline. We could still ask Papa,” Amelia said from where she sat on the bed. Amelia was wearing a pale blue gown, a beautiful one of muslin that brought out the colour of her big dark eyes and made them soulful pools. Emmeline swallowed.
“I have decided, Amelia,” she said gently. “I shall not change my mind.”
“But Emmeline, you place yourself in such peril—and all on my account,” Amelia whispered. She was close to tears and Emmeline glanced up at Rebecca, who was still adding some touches to her hair.
“It is good like it is,” she told her maid kindly. “Could you go and fetch Mama?”
“Of course. Of course, my lady.” Her maid tucked a pin into place and turned, going to the door. When Rebecca had hurried to Lady Radley’s chamber, Emmeline turned to Amelia.
“It is not your fault,” she said firmly. “The choice is mine alone, and there are certain... conveniences to it. For one, I shall never again be obliged to endure the torments of Almack’s Assembly.”
Amelia stared at her in disbelief. Emmeline made herself smile.
“Imagine,” she continued, “enduring an entire afternoon standing about, listening to idle chatter and nibbling on those insipid sandwiches.”
“Yes!” Amelia was laughing too, now, though her eyes were still sorrowful. “And their horrid lemonade. It is most unbearable. Every soul in London agrees upon it.”
Emmeline smiled. She was pleased to be able to make her cousin laugh. It helped her to forget her own numb emptiness.
“I daresay I could not endure having to go there again,” Emmeline admitted.
“No. Me neither,” Amelia said seriously. “I hated it. So much noise, so many people staring. And one just knew that the scandal sheets would be full of something or other the next day. It was horrible.”
“Yes,” Emmeline agreed. They both hated balls in London. Going to events like that together had made it easier, but still, they both found it hard to bear. And this was a way out of all of that.
“You must let me visit you,” Amelia said slowly. “I shan’t be able to stop worrying unless I can see you often.”
“Of course,” Emmeline said softly.
“And you must write once a week,” Amelia continued. “As for me, I shall pen you every week, without fail. I shall make a nuisance of myself.”
Emmeline chuckled. “You will never be a nuisance,” she said gently. Her heart twisted with fondness. Amelia was her best friend and contacting her would help a great deal. They had both been trying to laugh and make light of things, but Emmeline knew it was an effort for them both. The pain hit her again as she saw Amelia’s gaze flooded with tears.
“I am so very fearful for you,” Amelia admitted. “If I were the one doing this, I would die of fear.” Her limpid brown eyes were pools of terror.
Emmeline took a deep breath. “I shall be quite all right,” she promised. “I don’t see why he would want to murder me. But if I had to go to Almack’s for another Season, I might murder someone.” She made herself laugh, turning the conversation back to an amusing topic to lift their spirits.
Amelia laughed. “I know! Probably that footman who always loses things.”
Emmeline chuckled. “No, it would be one of those frightful patronesses, I assure you.”
They were both laughing when Rebecca knocked at the door. Sudden fear flooded in, clutching at Emmeline’s stomach like cold fingers were twisting it. Laughing with Amelia had distracted her, but now that Mama and Rebecca were arriving, she had to think about what was really happening. She did not wish to recall any of it.
“Emmeline, my dear?” Lady Radley called from the doorway. Her eyes showed recent tears and Emmeline swallowed hard. It was difficult enough to say farewell to Mama without thinking about how hard it must be for her as well.
“Mama. I just wanted to ask you if I need anything else,” Emmeline said. She had sent for her without really thinking about it, simply wantingher to be there. Mama frowned, studying her appearance. Mama herself was wearing a soft lavender gown, her long hair with its grey streaks arranged in curls about her face and covered with a brief turban headdress.
“I think you lack nothing, my dear. You look lovely.”
Emmeline swallowed hard. “I just need the flowers,” she said lightly.
