Page 8 of Emma & Edmund

Close enough to him as she was, Emma could see William's lip quiver into an even deeper snarl, the stench of brandy seeping through his teeth.

But, even as furious as he looked, spidery fingers slipped away from her. Cradling her wrist to her chest, Emma could feel it pulsing under her skin.

"Very good." Mr. Anthony's voice broke the curse that spellbound Emma, finally allowing her to look away from the resentment in his eyes. "Now, if you'll follow me sir, the other young men have broken into our Earl’s private reserve, and I trust you will join them."

For one long moment, only the wind sounded across the balcony.

When William finally moved, following a deep, grating sigh, Emma still didn't ease, tension flowing through her with eyes locked on the distant, nearly invisible forest line.

She flinched again when the door slammed, rattling the wide glass panes.

Chapter 2

Perhaps indulging in the widely available wine after William left her wasn't the best choice.

The sharp, pungent smell of horses snapped Emma awake, having barely managed to crawl to the trailhead with a pounding headache.

Heidi, Emma's blessed maid, did her best to speak only in soft whispers as she dressed her mistress in a comfortable, warm riding costume. For all her effort, though, Emma's so-called friends ruined it with their good-humored jokes and laughter.

It also didn't help that every inch of the previous night played loudly, repeatedly through her mind. The Tates were set to join the ride, and although Emma was dressed and readied, she didn't quite know what to do when she saw him again.

"Are you excited, Emma?" Grace practically squealed into her ear.

"It's been a lifetime since I last rode," Emma watched the horses in the far-off pasture with distinct apprehension, swallowing heavily as one reared back before taking off across the grass.

"Oh, you'll be fine," Margaret gave a wave, her white-gloved hand stark against the grey skies and dull, lifeless trees. "I believe our Grace meant something else."

With her words, she threw a trained suggestive look with only her eyes, using them as if fingers to point the other girls to the left, where a large group of men had just arrived, William Tate absent from them. "Fashionably late, I see."

Her final sentence was said louder than the rest, including the new arrivals in their conversation.

"Sorry, girls," Jonathan quipped, taking his place just behind Emma's shoulder. "The cards called too loudly to deny."

"Oh, I understand," Margaret gave back, "it has only been, what Emma? Five hours since the last round?"

"If that, even." Margaret had set her up for an undeniable landing, but Emma had to hide her twinge at her response.

"Well, only by the grace of the beauties before us will we see forgiveness." Emma resisted the roll of her eyes at her brother's facetious words. "Have we been tacked yet?"

"Not yet," Grace groaned, "although the boy had said it would only be a moment."

"And it has been two, at least," Margaret finished for her, earning the chuckles of their onlookers.

Oh, how Emma wished her tongue worked as quickly as Margaret's. If only her mind could be as sharp. If it was, even while lacking Margaret's startling face, she could snag even a small portion of her friend's success.

Spying the Tate siblings strolling up to the group, parasol and scarf a matching shade of robin's egg blue, her tongue twisted even further.

They were just as dazzling in broad daylight as they were dripped in a candle's glow. William's sparkling smile was plastered cheek to cheek, laughing at something Victoria had said, standing in stark contrast to the memory of the night before. Her wrist ached at the thought.

Still, in the light of day, it was easy to forget the way he looked the previous night. It was easy to see only his dazzling smile, his natural charm.

It was her fault, in a way. She had been unabashed in her intention of him, spanning weeks back. It was only natural that he would think she would be receptive to his acts.

She needed to be more careful. Even if he was handsome, he was only a man. If she gives him an opening, it was expected he would take it.

"Held up the ride for us?" His perfect pink lips formed a smile, saddling up to Jonathan and the other men, speaking loud enough that, even should Emma not be back-to-back with her brother, she could have heard him clearly.

Maybe it was the fresh air or the way he looked at her as if the night before had never happened, but Emma knew she had two choices.

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