Page 13 of Playing the Scoundrel

“You are so kind, Mr. Bernard. I do enjoy the park, especially when one can feel the warmth of the sunshine. But there are so many things to appreciate in London all together, I fear I may not have time to experience them all.”

Mrs. Dunn shifted in her seat, perhaps intentionally sidling her elbow in Emma’s side.

“Indeed. Have you had a chance to attend the theatre yet?”

Emma smiled. “I have not, though Mrs. Dunn has told me wonderful things about it.”

“Then you must join us tomorrow night. You and Mrs. Dunn, of course. We have a box there, my mother and I, and you’d be my specially invited guests.”

Pleased at having achieved the goal so easily, Emma nodded. “We would be delighted.”

“How very kind,” Mrs. Dunn said.

“Until tomorrow evening, then.” Mr. Bernard tipped his hat and then kicked his heels, urging his horse onward.

“Well done, my dear.” Mrs. Dunn’s whisper bolstered Emma’s excitement. The praise was for doing hardly anything at all, but it was nice to hear it all the same.

“Shall we return to the townhouse now?” Emma asked. “I’m nearly chilled to the bone.”

“I believe you might have one more vying for your attention.” Mrs. Dunn nodded toward the side of the road. “Did you notice Mr. Godwin there looking at you?”

Trying to appear innocent, Emma looked where Mr. Godwin stood, and still he watched her. He was indeed a handsome man, and his gaze felt heavy, almost drawing her to raise her hand in greeting. But she held it still. He could wait.

“Perhaps I had.” Emma tried to keep her voice even. She hadn’t discussed her plan at all with Mrs. Dunn, from fear of being sent home for something so outrageous, though she also didn’t want to express any interest in him either, for she certainly didn’t feel it.

“Well, are you going to invite him over?” Mrs. Dunn grew impatient, likely because she had already stipulated the man was no harm to Emma.

“I haven’t yet decided.”

A droll smile grew on Mrs. Dunn’s wrinkled lips. “Are you just going to let him suffer?”

“Only for a moment more,” Emma said lightly, straightening her skirts in disinterest.

“Is this because he hurt your friend?”

Emma nodded. “Among other things.”

“Well, we cannot simply sit here in the middle of the road. Shall we drive on?”

She didn’t want to bring him over yet, but she didn’t want to risk Mrs. Dunn’s ire, so she said, “Very well,” and turned to face Mr. Godwin once more.

His eyes were no longer playful and expectant as before. Now his gaze had turned dark and purposeful with lowered brows, a dangerous smile curling on his lips. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she lifted her chin to exude some kind of confidence and nodded in greeting. “Good day, Mr. Godwin.”

Immediately he lifted his brows and took hold of the horse’s reins before walking toward the carriage. “Good day, Miss Follett. How lovely to see you.”

“Thank you, and you as well.” Emma paused. “I believe you’re already acquainted with my patroness, Mrs. Chrysanthemum Dunn?”

He gave a nod, a lock of hair falling across his eyes. “Of course. How do you do, Mrs. Dunn?”

“Well enough. What finds you out and about on your own? You’re generally running in one circle or another, aren’t you?”

“Yes indeed. I was supposed to meet a few friends for some exercise and a stroll, but they seem to be taking their time in arriving.” He turned his dark eyes to Emma. “Perhaps I could borrow Miss Follett from you while I wait?”

“Go on then. Take your stroll, but do not wander far.”

Emma stood and expected the footman to help her down, but Mr. Godwin hurried to open the door and offered her his hand. She took it and thanked him, then tried to fall into step beside him naturally as he led his horse by the reins.

“You certainly are a man of leisure, aren’t you?” Emma asked. “You took your time coming to greet us at the carriage.”

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