Page 49 of Sense and Suitability
As an escape, no doubt. Emme cupped her palms around the wiggling creature so that his body was free within her hold and his head peeked from between her fingers.
“You must be a very nice person to like frogs,” Fia declared with the utmost seriousness.
Emme smiled. “If liking frogs is the measure, then yes, I must be.”
Fia’s smile widened into a double-dimpled masterpiece, her missing teeth only adding to the effect. For a moment Emme was overcome with the urge to scoop up the muddy, delightful little girl and hug her.
“I had another frog last month. His name was Rufus.” She touched a gentle finger to the frog’s head peeking from Emme’s fingers. “But he fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up.”
Oh dear.
Fia shrugged, only momentarily bothered. “But I found a new one.”
“And why did you name this one Blast?”
“For Simon,” she explained. “It’s one of his favorite words.”
A snicker slipped past Emme’s lips this time. “Is it?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, her hair bouncing around as if it were as desperate as the frog. “Lottie said that naming him Blast-It-All was too long.”
Emme pressed her teeth into her lower lip to suppress her laugh and glanced toward the hallway to the eavesdropper. This time, Charlotte didn’t bother hiding but sauntered closer.
“I do believe the shorter name suits such a small creature.” Emme returned her attention to Fia.
“That’s what Lottie said.”
As Charlotte stepped nearer, Emme studied her more closely. What on earth would drive a girl her age to steal chickens? Was Ravenscross truly in such dire straits that even the children felt the burden?
“I suppose we should be introduced properly.” Emme offered the poor frog back to Fia, ensuring she assisted the little one in a better grip. Then she wiped her fingers on the tiny—and dirty—apron at Fia’s waist before offering her hand to Charlotte. “Emmeline Lockhart.”
Charlotte hesitated, her curious gaze sweeping over Emme before finally taking her hand with a confident grip. “Charlotte Reeves.”
She couldn’t be more than fourteen, but there was gravity to those eyes.
“A pleasure.”
“Is it?” Charlotte challenged.
This child was born to star in a novel.
“Perhaps I should say I sincerely hope itwillbecome a pleasure,” Emme replied, her lips twitching.
One corner of Charlotte’s mouth quirked upward, and her deep blue eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you truly follow me all that way just because of some chickens?”
“To be honest, justice for the chickens was only part of it,” Emme said, maintaining an air of composure, despite Charlotte’s growing grin. “I’m terribly curious by nature, and you presented quite the mystery. So, in hopes of liberating those chickens and discovering your secret, I followed you all that way.”
“And you didn’t come to see Simon at all?” One of her dark brows rose with more accusation than intrigue. “He has quite a few ladies after his title, from what I’ve heard.”
Oh, she was well aware of Simon’s admirers—most of them ill-suited, the worst being Selena Hemston. But there were at least five others who had made their intentions plain, not to mention the hopefuls charmed by the enigmatic Viscount of Ravenscross.
The man could do with a secretary just to manage his romantic prospects.
“You don’t like that idea?” Charlotte’s sharp question pulled Emme from her thoughts.
This young lady was much too perceptive.
“Well...” Warmth crept into Emme’s cheeks. “Titles are all well and good, but if they don’t improve someone’s life or character, I fail to see why they should command so much attention.”
