Then Mrs. Grisby turned to Patrick. “I expect a full explanation as soon as we are settled, including why you haven’t told us all of this before.”
“Yes, Mother.” Patrick hung his head.
Emma closed her eyes for a brief moment. Michael could only imagine the turmoil going on inside her after all the worries the past twenty-four hours had brought. He wanted to go to her, draw her into his arms and hold her until her worry eased. But he did nothing, hoping that he would soon be able to tell her the depth of his feelings for her. That would have to wait until they had some privacy.
“I’ll send my footman to fetch the coach,” Michael advised. “We’ll have more room for all of you and your things. Patrick, stay out of sight. It’s unfortunate that we don’t have some sort of disguise for you.”
“I have an idea,” Tessa called from the next room, humor evident in her tone.
Patrick groaned. “I don’t think I’ll like whatever suggestion she has.”
Michael patted him on the back. “I’m sure it will be easier than outrunning your pursuers.”
The boy did not look convinced but headed toward the bedroom to hear what his sister had in mind.
“I’ll see if anyone is watching. Somehow, I doubt whoever it is will be looking for me,” Michael said, though he had no intention of drawing attention to himself in this neighborhood. “Do not open the door to anyone else.”
“Of course,” Emma agreed.
He turned to go, but Emma took his arm. “Michael, please be careful.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, noting with both hope and pleasure the way her eyes widened. “I will if you promise to as well.”
~*~
Emma and her family waited for Michael’s coach to arrive, tensing each time they heard footsteps in the hall. Tessa had cleverly suggested they disguise Patrick as a girl in one of her old dresses, complete with a hat.
Though he’d argued heatedly, their mother had given him a stern look. She’d mentioned something about “that was what he got for being in the wrong place at the wrong time when he should’ve been home,” and he’d complied readily enough.
When the coach arrived, Michael carried Tessa with Emma directly behind. Tessa had breathed deeply in the fresh air and looked about in wonder as they’d left the lodging house, making Emma realize with a pang of guilt how long it had been since she’d left their small apartment. Somehow, she needed to determine a way to help Tessa venture outside more often.
Michael had told them all not to look about or act nervous, but instead act as though they were going on an outing. Emma had breathed a sigh of relief when they were all tucked inside the luxurious coach. Michael had the driver take a circuitous route to make certain no one followed them. In a short time, they’d been delivered to the viscountess’s.
As the others alighted, Emma’s mother pulled her aside. “Perhaps we should enter using the servants’ entrance. My attire is more suited to that than pretending to be a guest here.”
“You are a guest here,” Michael added, not looking the least bit embarrassed for having eavesdropped. “My grandmother invited you to stay with her.”
Her mother didn’t look convinced, but when Michael offered his arm to her, she took it with a shy smile, and they led the way up the steps to the front door before Michael returned to carry Tessa inside.
Viscountess Weston awaited them in the foyer and greeted them with a warm welcome. “Do come in. I’m so pleased you’re all here.” She smiled at Tessa whom Michael held. “Would you prefer to settle in your room or do you feel well enough to have tea with us in the drawing room?”
Tears filled Tessa’s eyes as she shared a look with Emma. “I would love to visit with you and have tea, my lady. Thank you.”
For once, Tessa would partake instead of merely listening to Emma’s description of an event. While it seemed a simple thing, Emma knew how much it meant to Tessa.
“Tea sounds lovely,” Michael said as he carried her sister into the drawing room ahead of them.
The viscountess peered over Emma’s shoulder and caught sight of Patrick’s odd looking attire. “Lovely dress, my dear.”
“We thought—that is—I had to disguise—” His face turned red as he tried to explain, tugging at the ribbon that kept the hat in place.
“No need to explain, Patrick,” she said with a smile. “Do you want to change before you help yourself to the sandwiches and biscuits cook has for us?”
Emma chuckled. Her brother looked torn. “You can change first,” she told him as she shared a smile with the viscountess. “We’ll hold tea until you return.”
They gathered in the drawing room, the viscountess asking many questions. Apparently, Michael had sent her a note with only the briefest of information. Michael soon took his leave, saying he had several things he needed to see to. Emma could only hope he’d be careful with whatever he was doing.
Patrick had quickly returned in his normal clothes, declared himself to be starving, and eyed the food hungrily. When wasn’t he hungry?
“Please help yourself, Patrick,” the viscountess directed him with a wave of her hand.
Emma was relieved to see him take modest portions and eat with some manners. As Emma had hoped, her mother and the viscountess already seemed to enjoy each other’s company. While Emma could tell her mother felt self-conscious as she continued to glance at both the viscountess’s elegant attire then her own well-mended gown, then around the room, she seemed to relax as the conversation continued.
When Tessa began to wilt, Emma excused them and accompanied her to her room with one of the footman carrying her. He set her on the bed, leaving them with a smile and a bow.
“Oh, my,” Tessa said as she looked around the room. The entire room was done in shades of yellow, from the pale shade on the walls, to the deeper shade on overstuffed settee and stool, to the medium shade on the bedding. Pillows, a lamp shade, and the bottles on the dresser carried touches of robin’s egg blue that accented the room.
Emma smiled as she sat on the bed beside her. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“How can I possibly sleep here?”
Emma leaned forward and whispered, “I had the same exact thought when I first stepped into my room. I didn’t want to disturb it.”
“The viscountess is very kind.”
“Yes, she is.” Guilt struck Emma as she remembered the brief note she’d left. Yet despite that, the viscountess had taken them all in with open arms.
Tessa touched the satin coverlet on the bed. “It’s so smooth.”
“Let’s settle you beneath it so you can rest.” Emma moved to the wardrobe and found Tessa’s few things had already been unpacked.
“How can I possibly stay in my room with all that is happening? What if I miss something?” Emotion thickened Tessa’s voice.
“I’ll keep you up-to-date on all events,” Emma promised as she helped Tessa unfasten her gown.
“The way you have been of late?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Emma protested even as guilt seeped through her. The news of their uncle’s survival jumped to mind. But Emma had already decided not to tell her family quite yet. Didn’t Tessa realize the reason Emma didn’t share everything was to protect her? In her fragile state, Emma wasn’t certain what news she could handle.
“For one thing, what is going on between you and the viscount?”
Shock paused Emma’s hands. “Why do you think anything is happening?”
“’Tis obvious.” Tessa’s voice was muffled through the gown Emma drew over her head.
“You’re mistaken. He has been very kind to me. That is all. He’s engaged, you know.”
Tessa pulled her gown off her head to stare at Emma. “No.”
“Yes,” Emma said, as much to confirm it to Tessa as to remind herself. “To Miss Catherine Vandimer.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand?” Emma asked, suddenly impatient with her s
ister. This was not a subject she cared to dwell on, not when it made her heart ache so.
“I was so sure he cared for you.”
Oh, the pain! It came in waves and tightened her throat. But she couldn’t allow anyone to see how deep her feelings for Michael were. “I’m sure he does, but as an acquaintance, or perhaps a distant cousin.”
Tessa scowled but said nothing more.
“We have many other things with which to be concerned.” Emma drew back the covers on the bed and Tessa climbed in. “Beginning with how Patrick managed to witness a murder. That greatly concerns me.”
Tessa sighed. “I feel as if that’s my fault.”
“How could it possibly be your fault?”
“If I weren’t so ill, then Mother would pay more attention to what Patrick is doing and where he goes.” She lay back against the pillows, her face pale with exhaustion.
“Tessa, you can’t believe that for a moment. Even if you were feeling better, Patrick would not be able to stay in our flat all day long. He’d make us all crazed, enclosed in such a small space with all his energy.”
The image coaxed a small smile from Tessa. “That is true, but I still think—”
“No. What’s done is done. No regrets.” How many times had she told herself that over the past few days? It applied to this situation as well. “We need only focus on what happens next.”
“Thank goodness Viscount Weston and his grandmother are willing to help us.”
If only Tessa knew how tied Michael was to the situation, then she’d better understand why he was assisting them. A part of Emma couldn’t help but wonder if he was continuing to use her to try to find her uncle. Obviously, it was doing no good as her uncle hadn’t bothered to tell them he lived.
The pain from his abandonment of them had formed a crevice she didn’t think could be repaired. To think he’d leave them to survive on their own hurt deeply. Had he not realized there were nights they went hungry? That there were times when Emma had not been certain they’d be able to keep a roof over their heads? When the cold had seeped into their flat, leaving them so chilled they couldn’t sleep at night?
She swallowed hard, trying to push back all those memories. Somehow, she needed to do as she’d told Tessa. What had passed was passed. They had survived. And they would continue to do so. Emma had found a way to keep them housed and fed before, and she would do so again. Never mind the thought made her so tired that she was tempted to lay down beside Tessa and close her eyes.
Tessa’s breathing evened out as Emma continued to stroke her sister’s hair until at last, Emma was certain she slept deeply. As quietly as she could, she rose and returned to the drawing room.
“Your mother and brother have gone upstairs to settle into their rooms and rest before supper,” the viscountess said as Emma came in. “How is Tessa? I hope we didn’t tire her overmuch.”
“She’ll be fine. She’s truly enjoyed stepping out of her bedroom and seeing something different for a change.”
“Poor dear. How are you holding up with all this?”
Emma shook her head, amazed at the viscountess. “How can you possibly be so kind and welcome us all into your home when I left so abruptly?”
She smiled and clasped Emma’s hand. “I saw the list you found. I would’ve done the same thing in your shoes. How could you stay here if you believed Michael suspected you of being involved?”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “It means so much to me to hear you say that. But I still must apologize. You’ve done many things for me for which I can never repay. I’m sorry I left without speaking to you first.”
“You forget how much you’ve done for me, Emma. I’ve enjoyed your company very much. The house felt quite empty without you. It is truly a pleasure to have your family here. And I’m pleased to be able to help keep all of you safe.”
“Thank you.” Emma’s throat tightened, making it difficult to speak. She released the viscountess’s hand so she could give her a hug.
“You are a treasure, Emma,” the viscountess said as she returned the hug. “Always remember that.”
“As are you, my lady,” Emma replied, so grateful she’d had the chance to meet this amazing woman.
“Now, tell me, what would you like to do? Do we proceed with our plan or keep all of you hidden away here?”
“I suppose I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“I believe we should continue our normal activities unless something arises.” She clapped her hands together like a young girl. “This will be more fun than I’ve had in years.”
Emma could only smile, her heart feeling lighter than it had for some time.
~*~
Matters were getting more and more curious, Emma thought, as she entered the drawing room the next morning. Miss Catherine Vandimer awaited her on the settee, having asked specifically to see her.
Emma couldn’t imagine what the woman could possibly want, unless it had something to do with Mr. Vandimer. Even so, Emma had no desire to speak to her. But good manners dictated that she do so, whether she wanted to or not.
“Good day, Miss Vandimer.”
Catherine didn’t bother to rise, and the expression on her face was far from pleasant. Her mouth twisted in distaste as she scrutinized Emma’s gown.
Emma inwardly sighed, restraining herself from turning around and leaving the room. If the woman criticized her attire that was exactly what she’d do. “To what do I owe the...honor of this visit?” Emma asked.
Catherine took her time answering. “I had to speak to you to ask you if you realize you’re ruining Viscount Weston’s life.”
Emma stared at her in shock. “What could you possibly mean?”
“Surely it’s obvious. You’re spending far too much time with him. People are beginning to gossip.”
Anger brought a reply to Emma’s lips, but she held her tongue. There had to be something more to this conversation. What the woman said made no sense. “I’m afraid you’ll have to clarify that.”
“I know Michael far better than you.” Catherine tipped up her chin as though to convince herself it was true. “You may not realize that his one desire is to regain his family’s holding. Upon our marriage, it will once again be in Weston hands as it had been for centuries before.”
Ah. That explained so much, and in a way, relieved her. So that was why he planned to marry Catherine. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”
“We both know you don’t belong here. You don’t fit in. You should return to from wherever it is you came.” She raised a brow, as if daring Emma to disagree.
Emma’s breath caught in her throat. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d convinced herself? That she didn’t belong in this world? Should she do as Catherine said and leave? Perhaps that would be the best solution for everyone. She stared at Catherine as she tried to decide what she should do.
A gleam came in the woman’s eye which Emma could only interpret as superiority. That smug look suggested she knew she’d won.
Anger rose unexpectedly in Emma, straightening her spine. “No.”
A flash of surprise crossed Catherine’s face. “What?”
“No. How dare you suggest that I leave to suit your purpose. I belong here just as much as you.”
“You have acted inappropriately and—”
“No, I haven’t.” At least not in public, Emma told herself. “Besides, my behavior is no concern of yours.”
“I should’ve expected this sort of response from you.” Catherine rose, her thin lips tightening. “You leave me no choice but to call off my engagement with Michael. It will be your fault that he’ll lose his family holding.”
Emma’s heart sunk as guilt struck. She had no desire to be the reason their engagement ended. What could she do? Should she leave after all?
No. Resolve filled her. None of this was her fault. As much as she worried she didn’t belong here, she knew even better that her family didn’t belong in their tiny flat whi
ch filled with coal dust each day. Nor did they deserve to go hungry at night.
“This is between you and Viscount Weston. I suggest you speak with him if you’re having second thoughts about the marriage.”
Catherine stormed out without so much as a goodbye. Good riddance, Emma thought. While she hated the idea of Michael not regaining his family estate, he would surely be better off without Catherine. He deserved a wife who would make him happy. A deep pang of longing filled her. How she wished things were different.
But she’d learned long ago that wishing brought nothing. It only made you sadder. In her younger days, she hadn’t realized life would be quite so difficult. Hope had kept her moving forward through many challenges they’d faced. Maybe it was time to let go of hope. It filled her with longing for things that could never be. Her focus needed to stay on what was, on the next step before her. And that meant this evening.
She needed to prepare for the ball tonight and decide if she could accept Lord Tagart’s offer.
This ache in her heart would fade eventually. At least she hoped it would. Damn. There was that word again.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Michael studied the crowded ballroom, wondering what the night would bring. Had Catherine done as he requested and called off their betrothal? Surely by now she’d told a few of her friends that she’d changed her mind. Such news would spread quickly. A man could hope anyway.
He knew exactly for whom he searched. He’d deliberately stayed away from his grandmother’s since delivering Emma and her family there two days past. While the distance had not been easy, he thought it best, at least until certain events had settled. His top priority was to keep them safe from whatever crazed plan Professor Grisby was attempting.
He looked forward to becoming better acquainted with her family. Patrick was an intelligent lad who was doing well despite the lack of a male role model in his life. Michael could certainly relate to that. His own father had been less than helpful in guiding his life. Tessa was a lovely young lady. He hoped she regained her health and intended to do everything in his power to make certain she did so. Emma’s mother had always been kind to him and was a pleasure to spend time with. It was easy to see where Emma had gained many of her attributes.
Passionate Secrets (The Secrets Trilogy Book 2) Page 22
