Page 3 of Emma & Edmund

A squeal cut off her elation.

"Margaret Ingham! And Emma, too!"

Pushing through the crowd, her halo of chestnut curls bouncing, Grace Campbell bound to them. "I was wondering when I would see you two. Hello, Jonathan."

Her greeting only earned a grunt from Jonathan, taking another swig of his drink, steadily looking more bored by the moment.

"I hear we're to be roommates for a while," Emma greeted the girl with a kiss on the cheek.

"The most favorable group I could imagine. Maybe some of your luck will rub off on the rest of us, huh Margaret?" Grace joked, her bursting laugh cutting through the noise around them.

The sleeping arrangements had been revealed earlier in the day, moments after their arrival. Despite the expanse of the estate, there were hardly enough rooms for every person to have their own. A fact that became apparent when Margaret and Emma were escorted to theirs a few hours ago.

Two beds shared the space, one already littered with personal belongings. The other, while still perfectly made, was more than large enough for both Emma and Margaret. It wouldn't be the first time they had shared a bed, although Emma had assumed those times were behind them.

"Emma? Your thoughts?"

The conversation had rolled on without Emma, its current destination wholly unknown to her. Margaret's gaze darted nervously between Emma and Grace.

"Are you all right?" Grace asked, "You seem tired."

"Unfocused, more like," Margaret mumbled into her wine glass.

"How could she possibly focus?" Boasting a head above the girls, Jonathan's dreary tone turned excited in an instant. "Look who decided to finally show his face!"

Clad in matching ruby silk and crisp white lace, the well-expected Tates glided across the room arm in arm, the crowds parting for them with ease.

Blubbering men tried to greet Victoria to earn a wave and a smile, thrilling to them but in truth was nothing but a dismissive shooing. Not that Emma could blame her, the attention she received seemed exhausting.

There wasn't much of a chance to decode the minute movements of the sister, not when her brother completely stole Emma's attention and set her heart pounding. With a strong jaw and thick, quaffed blonde hair, William Tate stood out from the crowd from the moment she met him. His humor and bright smile only helped his natural charisma shine.

When that brightness flashed her way once more, Emma could practically feel herself swoon.

"It's a rare joy to see you sober at this hour, Jonathan," the young Mister Tate greeted his peer first with a quick handshake, turning to bow gracefully to the women in the next moment.

"You're a few hours late for that," Margaret joked, artfully positioning herself as far away from Victoria as possible.

"It's a pleasure to see you here, Lady Ingham," Victoria's words were muffled by her fan, drawn over half her face. "Oh! The dress from the Hawthorne affair! I was so hoping to see it again."

"How sweet of you," Margaret cooed back. Behind their skirts, she clutched at Emma's arm, nails digging into flesh, "But you needn't rush to join us, dear. Not if you were so exhausted."

"Oh? Do I look tired?"

Margaret only hummed in response.

"Now ladies," William clicked his tongue, "We're here to have fun!"

"Is that why we haven't danced yet?" Victoria bat her wide, brown eyes at her brother.

"You'll ask your sister to dance before mine?" Jonathan didn’t hold a lick of offense, only pure confusion.

Blushing, Emma wanted to swat at him, but couldn't deny the accuracy of his words. What was the point of dancing with one's sister when on the hunt for a bride, as every man William and Jonathan's age should be?

All thoughts were chased from her mind though when, even through her downcast eyes, Emma saw Mr. Tate turn to her, plastering a blinding smile across his cheeks.

"As brash as your brother is," his velveteen words dripped, and Emma could feel the burning eyes of her friends watching every move, analyzing every word bound to be thoroughly dissected, "I would love to dance with you. Later. Alas, Victoria laid the first claim. Jonathan, we'll have to catch up another time."

"If you insist."

---