Page 34 of Emma & Edmund

With her heart inexplicably racing, Emma plucked the folded parchment from under the central knot of ribbon. Unfolding the crisp pleat, a thick swallow bore down her throat as she saw Edmund Lockhart's handwriting for the first time.

Miss Emma Thompson,

Please accept these gifts as a token of my appreciation.

The first shall act as your camouflage for this evening. A girl will arrive promptly at eight o'clock to help prepare you. Do not fret, your act of bravery will not be discovered.

The second is a gift of thanks. Wear at will.

Your Indebted Friend,

Edmund Lockhart

P.S. Burn after reading.

Emma read it over several times, memorizing the way his letters rose and fell, tilted and straightened. The signature of his name was sloppier than she thought it should be, but the curve of his penmanship was otherwise impeccable.

The instructions were more than clear, and after a quick toss into the fire, she returned to the packages, gingerly sitting beside them. With another glance at the door, hearing nothing beyond, she reached for the tails of the ribbon.

Crinkled wrapping fell away from the first lump, forcing Emma to repress a heavy sigh. A cream cap sat on top of pilling linen trousers, almost the same color as the packaging that surrounded them. Emma's chin quivered as she gingerly pulled the pants from the pile, suppressing a groan as they unfolded before her.

Men's clothing? This was to be her disguise?

At the very least, she told herself, there was absolutely no chance someone would inadvertently recognize her. Not when she donned the dusty, wrinkled shirt and red neckerchief that completed the package.

Finally releasing the heavy sigh on her chest, Emma reached for the second package and drug it closer to her. Unconcerned with the usual reverence reserved for opening a gift, Emma tore at the thick parchment.

The gasp she exuded was far from proper, but she failed to think of a better reason for such a response. Sparkling in the sunlight, the beaded bodice of a sky-blue gown stared up at her. Blooming from the neckline fixed sculpted rows of lace flowers, laid perfectly on top of each other to mimic a precisely laid rose garden.

Emma, with awe, pulled the gift free of its wrapping and watched, mouth wide as it unfolded before her. Blue fabric interwoven with shimmering gold thread sparkled in the high noon sun, but she knew that it would glimmer even in the lowest light. The silk ribbon wrapped around the waistline matched the gold to perfection. A crisp diamond pattern folded over the puffed shoulders and continued down the train only heightened the elegance.

In short, it was simply the most beautiful gown that had ever been laid in her hands.

It was a shame that the rough men's clothing littered the bed, for she wanted nothing more than to lay the precious dress across the sheets if only to admire it more.

That was, until a knock came at the door.

"Miss? Are you awake?" The sweet voice of Heidi couldn't have been a more unwelcome intrusion.

"Yes!" Emma croaked back. Ripping the blanket off the bed as quickly as she could, the common clothing falling between the bed and wall, she thrust the gown beneath its down plumpness. "Just an hour more, please."

And so, her day went as such, a seemingly endless pattern of avoidance and lies.

Heidi, bless her soul, did as she was told and returned in an hour, relief washing over her face as her mistress allowed herself to be dressed and readied for the day. She hummed a light, easy song as Emma sat before her, hair twirling in skilled hands and pinned into fashionable knots. Yet, even as a delicate pearl wreath was stuck in her hair, the frown wouldn't wipe from Emma's face.

It wouldn't as she joined the party while afternoon tea was being served. After saying hello to her brother, Emma found Margaret in one of the galleries, basking in the attention of the very handsome Edward Norwich. Upon seeing Emma, she excused herself, gliding to her side.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Well enough," Emma laid her hand over her friend's glove, quickly pulling away when her familiar affection was not returned.

"I'm glad to hear," Margaret glanced over her shoulder to the waiting Mr. Norwich, tossing him a smile, "I am in the middle of things here, but I will find you later. Fancy a walk, just the two of us?"

"That sounds wonderful."

Chapter 10

"You are ruining your chances, you know," Margaret said bluntly, the gravel beneath their feet crunching with each step. The gardens that lined their path had begun to bloom in earnest, dulled by the overcast sky.

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