Page 86 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
“I’m so sorry.” Emma’s cheeks were hot as she walked to her sister. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Nonsense.” Violet beamed. “I hope we didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Not at all,” Emma lied. After all, it wasn’t their affection that had bothered her, exactly. More like the lack of it in her own life. And that was very much a private issue.
Violet held her arms out and spun in a circle, her face tipped up to the gray sky as if the sun shone down on her. “I’m just so happy to be in love.”
Envy flared in Emma’s chest, but she quickly squashed it. She’d certainly experienced envy plenty of times before when it came to Violet, but it was such an ugly emotion. She ought not to indulge in it.
Violet dropped her arms to her sides and met Emma’s gaze. “I can’t believe I used to scorn the idea of a love match. Thank you for always being so certain that love was what you wanted. Your attitude made me realize that love was an option.”
Emma didn’t know what to say to that, so instead she focused on the reason she’d come looking for Violet in the first place.
“The carriage is ready for our trip to Beecham,” she said.
“Wonderful.” Violet looped their arms together. “I’m looking forward to seeing what they have to offer.”
Emma silently questioned whether Violet’s hopes might soon be dashed. Beecham was a charming town, but it was only small. There were a handful of shops at most. Not what Violet was used to in London. But then, she had recently spent a lot of time traveling, so perhaps she knew what to expect.
They strolled through the house together, moving slowly so as not to strain Emma’s ankle. Emma waited in the foyer while Violet fetched her pelisse, and then they left in the waiting carriage. Daisy had offered to go with them, but Emma declined. She knew her maid didn’t like shopping with Violet. Her sister tended to buy far too much and expect others to carry it.
“It’s a nice part of the country,” Violet said, looking out the window. “Quite scenic.”
“It is.” Personally, Emma would have no difficulty spending long periods of time here. “Will you be all right in the country until the beginning of next season?”
Violet turned to face Emma, wincing. “I’d rather not, but I will simply have to exercise forbearance. Lord Mayhew has made it clear that he will not countenance us returning to London sooner. If we were to flout his order, we would not be welcome in Mayhew House.”
Emma experienced a pang of sympathy. That must be difficult for Violet, who’d always preferred the city.
“I hope the time passes quickly,” she said.
“From your mouth to God’s ears.” Violet tugged on one of the curls surrounding her face. “I don’t imagine you will have the same problem. You must be ecstatic to be living in the country.”
“I do rather like it,” Emma admitted. “I like my new home, but I will miss our family.”
She intentionally did not mention also missing Vaughan. Nobody—least of all Violet—needed to know that her husband intended to leave her behind. The longer before Violet heard of his impending defection, the better.
The carriage trundled into Beecham, and Emma peered out the window, watching as they passed quaint houses on the roadside. A few minutes after they came within the village boundaries, the carriage stopped outside a block of shops on their high street.
“There’s not a lot of it, is there?” Violet remarked.
“But it is charming,” Emma said loyally. This was going to be her new home, after all.
A footman opened the carriage door and helped Violet down. Emma followed. No sooner had she stepped onto the pavement than a shrill voice called for her.
“Duchess!”
She spun around and barely swallowed a groan. Miss Snowe was making her way out of the nearest shop, her maid walking behind her, laden with paper bags.
“How lovely to see you, Miss Snowe,” Emma said, wishing she could get back into the carriage and leave. Beside her, Violet hovered, obviously waiting for an introduction.
Miss Snowe turned to Violet, and her eyebrows arched higher.
“Miss Snowe, please allow me to introduce my sister, Mrs. Mayhew. Violet, this is Miss Snowe of the local gentry.”
They exchanged pleasantries, each watching the other with interest. Emma supposed that Miss Snowe knew exactly who Violet was, given the gossip she’d mentioned when she and her mother had visited Ashford Hall.
Emma wasn’t sure if the women would be friends or foes, but when Violet flashed her dimples, she suspected it would be the former.
