Page 11 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“Ah.” Harcourt looked at her, but she could see no particular annoyance in his face. “Remember when I said that I had arranged for you to have lady’s maid for the season?”
Emmeline nodded slowly. “I thought you just meant that I could have use of Jasmine.”
“Jasmine is a good worker, but what I actually meant was that I had hired you a French lady’s maid to help you adjust to London life. She should be here later today, actually. She was held up, or she would have been here sooner.” Harcourt sounded almost apologetic. “I thought you had understood that I meant someone other than my household, but I now see that I was not clear. You do not have to worry about shopping until she arrives.”
A wave of relief flooded through Emmeline. “That is lovely to hear,” Emmeline admitted with a laugh.
Harcourt asked, “Was there anything else that you needed?”
“No.” Emmeline turned around to look at the books that lined the walls. “I have not visited the library yet. May I pick a book out to read?”
Harcourt waved his hand at the books along the walls. “Feel free to indulge yourself, although I do think the library is a bit lacking in romantic titles.”
“I rather like philosophy,” Emmeline assured him, walking off to examine the spines of nearby books.
He cleared his throat causing Emmeline to look back around at him. “I do trust that when it comes time for the balls and introductions that you will endeavour to let your ladylike virtues shine through, Sister.”
“Oh,” Emmeline whispered. “I had not realised I was unladylike. I know that society here is different than at home, but I had not thought it so foreign.”
Harcourt’s voice held very little tenderness as he spoke. “I do not mean to seem harsh, but I must ensure that you make a good match. I intend on not letting Mother and Father down in that respect.”
Emmeline lowered her head. Her voice sounded small even to herself. “On second thoughts, I think I shall retire for the time being. I am too tired to read.” She brushed past her brother on her way out, not allowing him time to say anything else. It took all her willpower not to run down the hallway as she fled back to the safety of her room.
She fell forward onto her bed as soon as she was behind the closed doors of her room. The sunlight trickled in through the thin gauzy curtain. Emmeline looked at the heavy drapes held to the side by soft cords. She understood what it was like to be tied. She went to the drapes and freed them. They swished closed, and Emmeline stood holding the cords in her hands in the darkness of her room.
Emmeline tossed the cords aside and crawled back on to her bed, not caring about the wrinkles she was putting into her dress or the hairpins she might be prying loose. She curled in upon herself and held onto her blanket.
Why did her mother insist on letting her be of her own mind? It would have served her better, Emmeline wagered, to have been taught to not think at all. She wondered if that was what all London women of society were like.
The season had only been a source of stress for her because she had feared that her brother might not allow her to choose freely, or perhaps she might not have a good fashion sense. Now it seemed she had much more to worry over. Her height she could do little about, but now it was clear that her brother thought her some ill-raised and best-forgotten kin.
Emmeline sighed and rolled on to her back. “Mother would be upset to see me brooding so,” she chided quietly. She lay there thinking of all the ways she had embarrassed herself since she had come to London. Slowly her eyelids grew too heavy for her to keep open.
She drifted off into a tumultuous nightmare of balls full of contemptuous guests who glared at her as she stumbled over her words. Emmeline fled from frowns and gasps of fair ladies at her mention of philosophy. She dared speak out of turn, and she saw Harcourt thrown into ridicule because of her.
Emmeline awoke clenching the blanket tightly. There was a soft knocking at her door. She sat up and looked around. The room was still shrouded in darkness, with only tiny pinpoints of light squeezing through the crack between the drapes.
She slid off the bed and went to the window. The drapes were heavier than she recalled. She fumbled to tie one of them back to let light back into the room. “Just a moment,” she called in response to the insistent knock on her door.
Emmeline hurried over to the door and pulled it open to find a woman she had never seen before. As she took in the newcomer’s appearance, it was clear that the woman was also taking inherappearance. Emmeline realised she must look frightful.
Her hand quickly went to her hair that she could tell was falling. “Oh no,” Emmeline whispered. “I fell asleep.” The excuse sounded as lame to her ears as it probably did to the perfectly coiffed woman staring at her with obvious judgment.
“That is plain to see,” the woman said with a breathy French accent.
Emmeline’s stomach dropped. This was the French lady’s maid Harcourt had hired for her. She had certainly not made the best impression on the maid, but then perhaps it would serve to show the woman just why Emmeline needed her help so desperately. “You must be the lady’s maid that Lord Pentworth said was due in.”
“And you must be Lady Callum,” the maid said, dipping her head forward to acknowledge that Emmeline was correct. “I can see why he was concerned.”
Emmeline felt colour rise to her cheeks. “Honestly, I am normally more properly groomed. I merely fell asleep.”
“Are you ill?” The maid enquired, stepping forward, forcing Emmeline to allow her entry into the room. Emmeline quickly stepped out of the way, and the maid swept through with the swish of ruffles and the scent of roses.
“No. I am not ill.”
“Then why do you sleep in the middle of the day?” It was obvious that the woman did not approve of such things by the way she asked the question, but it was not unheard of for a lady to have a nap in the afternoon.
Emmeline flipped her hand over in a gesture of helplessness. “I was merely tired. It is not that odd of a thing for a woman to take a light nap.”
