Chapter Nine

“Which dress would you like for the opera tonight, Miss?”

Emma looked up at her maid and smiled. “I believe Mrs. Dunn had one special-made for the opera. The red muslin if you please.”

When the maid disappeared into the closet, Emma took in her reflection in the mirror. She sat at her vanity in her stays and petticoats, blonde hair elegantly curled and ornamented with stylish feathers. She hoped the red dress would give her the confidence she needed to endure an evening with Mr. Godwin. She didn’t like that he had nearly seen through her façade, that she liked him and did not like him at the same time. For he was exceptionally handsome, and she was coming to understand how he could be perceived as charming. And he did not seem put off by her bookish tendencies, so she might even be able to enjoy his company, but that was need enough to remember his true nature. He wasn’t just a pleasant gentleman. He was a danger, to her and women all throughout London. He needed to be taught a lesson, and if Emma could find just the right moment, perhaps tonight would be the night.

But even after the maid returned and helped her into the red dress, the sight made Emma swallow hard. She looked much more daring than she felt. There was nothing indecent about the style, for Mrs. Dunn had assured her it was all in respectable fashion, but the formal neckline was more revealing than Emma’s country upbringing had allowed. And though the dark red complimented her hair and complexion, she couldn’t help but think of the day in the park, when Mr. Godwin had eyed her with hungry desire, wishing to see her in this exact color. Would she be able to keep him at bay? Surely Mrs. Dunn wouldn’t allow them to be alone. Everything would be just fine.

Taking one last look at her reflection, Emma reached for her reticule and made her way downstairs.

“Lovely, my dear,” Mrs. Dunn said from her seat in the foyer. “Mr. Godwin won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.”

Emma smirked. “And here I would hate to distract him from the opera.”

“How you enjoy teasing that man,” Mrs. Dunn said with a knowing smile.

“Only because he so enjoys teasing me in return.” Emma hoped the tone in her voice was friendly enough.

“You don’t dislike him, do you?” Mrs. Dunn asked. “I never intended to force you into company with someone who makes you uncomfortable. That includes Mr. Bernard.”

“Oh no, don’t fret, Mrs. Dunn. They’re both amiable gentlemen, only Mr. Godwin seems to be a little more… forthcoming with his thoughts than other gentlemen.”

Mrs. Dunn nodded. “Indeed. Perhaps that’s why I prefer his company.” Then she took Emma’s hand and patted it with her own. “But we’re not here in London for me. I’ve had a lifetime of company. You find someone who suits you. And if it happens to be Mr. Bernard or Mr. Godwin, I’ll have nothing to worry for.”

Emma tried to smile before they donned their cloaks and walked out to the carriage, but she was distracted by a light snow filling the air and sprinkling the grounds as they drove into the night. Her heart had taken to pounding within her chest, even though she had no reason to be nervous. It was just Mr. Godwin. She owed him nothing and had no expectations.

But when they arrived at the theatre, Emma was surprised to see him standing beside the large pillars amongst the throng of people. The footman helped them out of the carriage, but Mr. Godwin was there in an instant, ready with an umbrella to protect them from the snow.

“This is certainly a memorable way to start the evening, isn’t it?” he said, his face much too close to Emma’s for her own comfort. Not to mention the sparkle of joy in his eyes and the curve of his perfect lips.

“Thank you, my boy,” Mrs. Dunn said, clinging to his arm as they made their way inside through the grand doorways. “This was very thoughtful of you.”

Emma could not deny it. Subjecting himself to the cold weather just to wait for them and provide them with aid was a most selfless act, but she could only assume that’s all it was––an act. To have the appearance of generosity to win her favor, no doubt.

“Indeed. Thank you, Mr. Godwin.” Emma glanced up at him, their faces again now inches apart underneath the umbrella. She gave him a smile, which proved enough of a distraction that he dropped his gaze to her mouth. And oh, the heady feeling it gave her. She enjoyed thinking she had some kind of power and control over him, like her goal would be an undisputed success. Not to mention, it was nice to be seen for once, and to be so obviously desired.

“Of course. It’s just through here.” He stumbled over his words as he hurried them into the warmth of the indoors.

Emma and Mrs. Dunn shed their overcoats and turned to find Mr. Godwin ready with his tickets for their seats, but again he was frozen. Emma straightened her shoulders as he took in her appearance with recognizable hunger. She tried to imagine how he might see her; red dress, daring neckline, long white gloves, curled hair and ridiculous feather, all for an evening spent in the dark watching someone else. Though they would be seen by others, and that seemed to be the more important thing to Mrs. Dunn. But in the moment, all that mattered to Emma was the way Mr. Godwin was looking at her.

“Miss Follett…” His words trailed off into a low gruff sound.

“Doesn’t she look exquisite?” Mrs. Dunn said, tossing him a wink.

Mr. Godwin stepped forward and took Emma’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a lingering kiss. “Downright delectable.”

His choice of words always had a way of making her flush, no matter how much she didn’t wish it, but she feigned a smile and took the arm he extended as he led them up the stairs to the box seats.

The box was small, lined with red drapes and dimly lit with waxing candles. It held four seats for their party, which was more than enough. It wasn’t as private as she’d expected, but the large room below seemed loud and boisterous in comparison. Mrs. Dunn sat in the seat closest to the stage and she had already pulled out her opera glasses. Each chair was plush and velvet with gilded arms on each side, reminding Emma this was much more finery than she would have ever found back home. As Emma took a seat beside her, she grew increasingly aware when Mr. Godwin took his seat on the other side of Emma.

“Are you familiar with the opera tonight?” Mr. Godwin asked, offering her a copy of the program. “It will be in Italian.”

Emma examined the program and put on a smile. “I’ve not heard of this one in particular, and I believe my comprehension of Italian will be found lacking. Would you be able to interpret for me when needed?”

A wicked smile grew across his lips. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Follett. I can whisper things into your ear all evening if you wish.”

Just as Emma gave him a side glance and fought off a smile, the crowd erupted into applause as the maestro took the stage and gave a dramatic bow. After introducing the show, the orchestra began with their strings and brass instruments, then the elegant curtain rose, revealing a beautiful soprano. She had olive skin, rouged lips, and a voice that commanded the attention of everyone in the room, especially the men. In Emma’s eyes, she was the embodiment of allure. But somehow, Emma still felt Mr. Godwin’s gaze. Daring a glance out of the corner of her eye, she caught him staring, and he didn’t pretend he wasn’t with a quick glance away. In fact, his smile deepened, the look in his eyes positively dangerous, so Emma turned her attention back to the songstress.