Page 26 of Emma & Edmund

"All right, that's enough," Anthony spun again, thinly veiled offense peppering his face. But it was hard to hear him over the bursting laugh that threw Edmund's head back.

"I hope you never lose your spirit, Emma," he said once the laugh calmed, "and should it be hard to contain, you can always try this."

From his pocket, Edmund pulled a ruby drawstring bag, the thread glinting off the light of Anthony's lamp before it was placed in Emma's palm. The cloth didn't mask the weight of the coin within, and Emma's brows shot into her hairline.

"Edmund, this is entirely too much money."

"Well, unfortunately, there isn't time to parcel out the correct amount. Our time is up, isn't it Anthony?"

"Very much so," came the tense answer. "I'd rather not have this woman in the home longer than necessary. We'll need to take a count of candlesticks after she leaves."

"Don't bother," Edmund waved a hand. "Now, all I can do is wish you luck."

"You're acting as if all you have done wasn't simply lining my pockets." While Emma’s words were meant to be sharp, they came far softer than intended, with a small smile on her lips.

"And you're acting as if that isn't the most influential component. Now go. I'll see you again after your talk."

Chapter 7

The uncomfortable, silent walk back with Anthony was laden with frustration.

Be kind. What sort of advice was that? Was she notalwayskind? She didn't tell the whole world of his very existence, and that alone should be considered a very kind act. Her offense quickly turned to perturbance.

Yet, the bugging memory of his laugh, the way it fully encased her and drew her into his own, special joy chipped away at it.

So, when she stepped off the forest path and began the trek across the vast lawn, Emma squared her shoulders. She might not have much information or guidance, but she did havesome. She wasn't blind to the goal, nor to the benefit of obtaining it.

Could you imagine Edmund in proper society? He would just blossom! He would command the year, let alone the season.Her mind spoke, and Emma agreed. And so, just as she promised him a bit too foolheartedly, she would do what she could.

The heavy weight of the coin purse tied up and styled in the folds of her dress only served to bolster her confidence. Should her words fail, money would prevail.

They reached the lawn of Belmont before she knew it, Anthony guiding them around the garden to the stone patio that extended from the house. In the daylight, it shone with swirling mosaic patterns reminiscent of the soft bursts of a setting sun. At night, though, only varying shades of grey spoke of the beauty under her feet.

Only when they had traversed the stairs to the shadowed balcony above did Emma's gut begin to stir.

What if she couldn't convince the woman to help them?

What if the woman could see right through her, playing her for only the coins in her pockets and leaving her for nothing?

What if Emma failed again, as she had so many times before?

As the light of the rooms beyond the balcony washed over her shoulders, nearly blinding her after seeing by only lamplight for so long, she had no other choice but to steel herself, letting it wrap around her spine like a vice, keeping her back straight despite it wanting to crumble. Particularly when the weight of eyes fell on her.

Damn that Anthony, taking her to the heart of the beast before she could even think of where he was leading her. Why couldn't he have simply taken through the threshold from whence they came? Wasn't she supposed to be seeing the doctor?

And why had he chosen just that moment to abandon her side, leaving her alone to face the eyes?

The voices around her surely had to been there long before she arrived, but suddenly, to her ears and mind, all the voices were directed at her. Not to speak to her, no, but of her. Her mind told her it was silly, that no one had even noticed her arrival, but still, her eyes locked with strangers and acquaintances alike, convincing her they were glued to her.

"You can do this, Emma."

It was her thoughts, but it wasn't her voice that filled her head. Instead, the soft, smooth enunciation she had grown to know from Edmund rang through her ears. While the steel of her will kept her head high, it was only through the gentle strength of her imaginary encourager that kept her feet moving.

"There you are, Emma dearest!"

Her brother's overly loud voice nearly broke whatever confidence had only begun to bud, taking the wind from her lungs and slumping her shoulders.

Bursting through the throng, pink-cheeked Jonathan beamed at his younger sister, bubbling with all the energy in the room and alcohol in brandy. "I have been searching for you high and low, heard you'd been hauled away."

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