Page 41 of If I Loved You
Perhaps they did not. Emma ignored the earl and watched the silent exchange between Lady M and Lord Hadlee, hardly believing her eyes when she spied a flush creeping up the old woman’s cheeks.
“Been a while, eh, Leticia?” Asked Lord Hadlee.
“It has, George.”
Emma’s head whipped around, looking at Lady M, trying to imagine from where this unknown person, of the quiet and lyrical voice and the blushing cheeks and soft eyes, had come. Emma covered her mouth with her hand, quieting her little snicker. Lady M was behaving like an overcome fifteen-year-old.
She’s in love with him, Emma realized, her lip dropping open.Oh, my.
“We might be getting a little too old for this, Letty,” said Lord Hadlee, his brow wiggling, his grin crooked.
“Speak for yourself, Georgie,” Lady M returned, stomping her cane playfully. “This thing will see me through many more years. That, and two snifters of brandy daily.”
Lord Hadlee chuckled. “Good to see you, Letty.”
“You as well, old man.”
Emma watched Lady M walk away, appearing straighter and taller than she thought she actually was. She glanced up at Lord Hadlee. He hadn’t a clue, she realized, watching him put the woman out of his mind the minute she’d turned away. He faced Emma and asked, “Shall I really come down to your little cottage and collect my letters?”
Emma took his hands in hers and smiled up at the dear old man. “You absolutely must.” She turned and found the earl, standing with Emma’s cloak tossed over his arm, watching her exchange with Hadlee. “Might Lord Hadlee be welcomed at Benedict House?”
“Of course,” allowed the earl, clearly befuddled, even as he was so politely agreeable.
Emma smiled at Lord Hadlee. “Send word to Benedict House of your plans. They will get any note to me.” She reached up and kissed his weathered cheeks, left then right. Squeezing his hands, she nearly squealed, “I am so thrilled to have met you. I cannot wait for your visit.”
“What’s this? Benedict House?” Peter Fiske, having come into the foyer as well, wanted to know.
George Fiske ignored his son. “You have made my day—my year, I daresay,” he said to Emma, tightening his cool fingers around hers. “I shall see you sometime in the next few weeks.”
Emma allowed the earl to place her cloak over her shoulders. She further allowed his hands to settle there for a moment longer than they should have. She waved to Lord Hadlee and turned to leave with the earl, catching sight of Tristan Noel, idly lounging near a pillar by the stairs. He was grinning at her, and then dared to wink at her, even as she was sure the earl might have noticed this. And suddenly she didn’t care. She smiled at Tristan Noel and waved to him as well.
“Good night, Sir Mr. Right Honorable Tristan Noel,” she called out as she took the earl’s arm and stepped out of the grand house.
Of course, her brazenness did not go unchastised. Once inside the earl’s black-as-night carriage, with only the lantern hanging and swaying within to give light, the earl announced, in a frosty tone, “Miss Ainsley, it would behoove you to recall whose sponsorship you bear. You should not have behaved so...familiarly with a man as esteemed as Lord Hadlee. And you certainly should not have been so careless with Beckwith. He is a libertine of the first water.”
“Yes, my lord,” she agreed readily, which seemed to both surprise him and mollify him. She didn’t care for his—or Lady M’s—attitudes for what they deemed proper behavior. Beckwith and Lord Hadlee had been the highlight of her evening. And while she was unaccustomed to thebeau monde’smindset regarding public behavior—
“Just like that? No argument?” The earl interrupted her musing.
Emma let out a weary sigh. But gave him what he wanted. “Lady M spent the evening being progressively nastier to any person who attempted to speak with me, that it became ratherembarrassing and bade me wish the floor might open up beneath me. You chased away a man with a feral scowl and only because he spoke with me—that man being so bold as to actually talk to me rather as if our minds and persons were of equal rank—the gall of him! And then, if I recall correctly, it was you who actually accosted me in a dark room, laying your hands and your lips upon my person in a most intimate and scandalous manner—which by the way, Lord Beckwith did not do. Please do go on, my lord, instructingmeon genteel and acceptable conduct. I am all ears.”
The entirety of the ride, after Emma’s remarks, was made in complete silence.
Chapter Thirteen
SOMEHOW, THE NEXT MORNING, Emma was not entirely shocked when Mrs. Downing coolly informed her that the earl had already left the house and that she would be travelling back to Benedict House by herself.
Praise the Lord!Had been her silent response to this news.
She wasted no time but advised the housekeeper that she could be ready within the hour. She bounded up the stairs immediately after breakfast and packed her own small bag.
Some despicable melancholy made her leave behind the fabulous blue ball gown, spread out on the bed, when she left. She gave one final caress to the tassels at its hem and grabbed up her bag and cloak and left the room.
Almost two hours later, she arrived at Benedict House. They must have seen the carriage sending up a cloud of dust upon the high road, that Mrs. Conklin and SueEllen and Thurman waited for her upon the front steps. Emma only had eyes for Bethany, held so sweetly in the housekeeper’s arms. Although Emma was sure Mrs. Conklin must have told Bethany for whom they waited, her daughter’s eyes did not light until Emma actually stepped from the carriage.
She ran straight to her, Mrs. Conklin coming forward, happy to assist in the reunion. Bethany wailed and giggled, and then squirmed when Emma squeezed her so tight.
“Did you enjoy London, Miss?” Mrs. Conklin wanted to know, hovering over the pair, brushing Emma’s sagging hair out of her face, even as she still had her head buried in Bethany’s little face.
