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“Hush,” Emma hissed by way of reply.

Fortunately, no one was standing nearby. Father, Miss Bates, and their friends were seated in front of the fireplace—the new chimneypiece reallywasquite ugly—and George was engaged with Mr. Weston, Mr. Cole, and Squire Plumtree across the room. Most of the young people were in the parlor, which opened up off the drawing room.

“You can speak freely,” said Mrs. Weston. “Although I shudder to think what youactuallymight be thinking about poor William.”

“PoorWilliam was acting very suspiciously at dinner.”

“Really? In what way?”

“I caught him staring at me intently. When our gazes met, he turned bright red and quickly looked away.” Emma glanced at the young man again. “It felt as if he had something to hide.”

“I suspect he’s feeling embarrassed about his conduct during the party at Donwell Abbey.”

“Exactly,” Emma triumphantly said. “Or guilty, rather.”

“My dear, he likely wants to apologize for his bad behavior and is trying to work up the nerve,” Mrs. Weston replied.

Emma shook her head. “It was more than just bad behavior. He upset Prudence very badly.”

And possibly did much worse than that.

“That was indeed dreadful,” her friend patiently replied. “Which is why he probably wishes to apologize.”

“Then why hasn’t he?”

“Likely because you keep glowering at him. It’s quite noticeable.”

Oh dear.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to be more subtle about it.”

“Emma, you must—”

“Oh, look! Here comes Mrs. Cole.”

Their hostess greeted them, all smiles. “Mrs. Weston, I was hoping to impose on you to play the pianoforte for us. The young people are greatly longing to dance.”

“I should be happy to,” Mrs. Weston replied.

“Wonderful. Perhaps you would like to look over some of the music? The Gilbert and the Otway girls have already been making some selections.”

With another nod—and a quick warning glance to Emma— Mrs. Weston departed for the other room.

“What a kind woman,” Mrs. Cole said. “As are you, Mrs. Knightley. I was sorry to have to place you next to Mr. Barlowe. He’s terribly shy, but I knew that if anyone could pull him out of his shell, it would be you.”

“I’m afraid I was rather a failure in that department,” Emma ruefully admitted.

“I hope you enjoyed chatting with Mr. Plumtree, though. He’s a truly amiable young man, and Squire Plumtree is a most worthy addition to the neighborhood after such a long time away in London.”

“Yes, Mr. Plumtree mentioned that. What precipitated his return, if I may ask.”

Mrs. Cole sighed. “It’s a very sad story, really. The poor squire—”

“Oh, Mrs. Knightley, there you are! Anne and I have been longing to speak with you.”

Emma turned to find herself confronted by the Cox girls, forcing her to grit her teeth and try to manage a smile at the same time. Both Susan and Anne did appear eager to speak with her. That was more than a little strange, since normally they tried to avoid her.

“Now, Susan,” admonished Mrs. Cole. “You mustn’t barge into conversations. Your mother would not be pleased.”