Page 18 of The Earl's Hired Bride
She pressed her lips together and turned away. “Emmaline, my dear! I’m so glad you’ve arrived safely! Come in! Goodness, you were but a girl the last time I saw you.” She ushered them toward a grouping of chairs. “Bridges, we are not to be disturbed,” she called over her shoulder. “Except for the tea tray. Please tell cook that our guest has arrived.”
Hart stepped forward as the servant withdrew. “My cousin has undoubtedly grown, Mother, but she has shortened her name. She’s asked that we call her Emily now.”
“Have you, my dear?” His mother raised a brow at the pair of them. She paused then, just before she took her seat and raised a finger. Crossing quickly to the door, she opened it. Hart gaped at the butler, standing close and clearly eavesdropping.
“I need you to stand at the front window, Bridges,” she told him pleasantly. “I’ll need a report on the parasols that pass by this morning, and a count by color.”
“Very good, madam.” Without the slightest loss of dignity he bowed and moved away.
His mother closed the door again. “Nosey servants can be quite useful,” she said to Emily, “or an utter nuisance. The trick is to know which . . . and when.”
Emily’s eyes sparkled, but she merely nodded. “I shall take your word for it, ma’am.”
He judged they were safe enough for true introductions, now. “Mother, may I present Miss Emily Spencer? Emily, my mother, the Countess of Hartford.”
Curtsies all around, and they sat.
“So, we are truly taking this path?” his mother asked, looking between them.
“It’s already begun.” He told her of the attention they’d sparked.
She sighed. “Very well, then.” She pulled a folded bit of paper from her sleeve. “It’s as well that I heard from your uncle, then. We need not fear your cousin changing her mind. She’s truly married—to a Quaker. They intend to go to the American frontier to spread the Light to the heathens.”
“How noble of her,” he murmured. But he had to admit he was relieved.
The countess turned a measuring gaze upon Emily, then.
His false betrothed lifted her chin.
Hart hoped he would not be called to take sides.
A knock sounded and the tea tray came in. He muffled his sigh of relief. The maid set the tray nearby and he noticed that Emily watched her closely. He also noticed his mother noticed—and didn’t look approving. Were they going to start off with a lecture already?
When the girl had gone, Emily met his mother’s gaze directly. “Would you like me to pour and set your mind at ease?”
The countess raised a brow and waved permission—and then thawed when Emily must have performed the task to some unknown feminine standard.
“Very well, my dear, let us call truce. It is clear you’ve been trained.”
It was clear she awaited an explanation.
Emily took a small sandwich. “As I told his lordship, my mother received a lady’s education.”
“Is she a lady?” his mother asked sharply.
“No. My grandparents were merchants. They started a successful linen draper’s shop and turned it into a large import enterprise.” She cleared her throat. “They were not blessed with children of their own, though, after years of marriage.”
“Ah.” His mother sat back. “They raised a gentleman’s child?”
Emily nodded. “My mother. She was educated and she saw me taught as well.”
“Whose child is she?”
Emily’s chin shot up again. “I have not shared that information with his lordship. It is not my secret to tell.”
“It will not interfere in your playing this role?”
“I do not believe so, my lady.”
