Chapter Sixteen
Emily
Emily reached across from her side of the carriage and clasped her maid’s hand. “Everything is perfect. I cannot believe you could do so much in such a short time.”
Mary laughed. “It was all very simple, milady. The staff understands the need for secrecy, and the additional pay is most welcome.”
Emily sighed. “I do wish it were more, but the expense has depleted my pin money considerably. If only I could liquidate a few of my financial investments to replenish my available funds. But it would require at least a month to do so, and we just do not have that kind of time.”
“It’s far more than enough, milady. Do not worry yourself over it,” Mary assured her. “Miss True knows the plan?”
Emily smoothed a hand down the front of her dress and smiled.
“Yes. Penelope will travel to Thorne Park under the pretense of attending the party and ball. Shortly after arriving, however, she will invent an illness that necessitates her return to London. And that is when you will accompany her to the Curzon Street townhome. While her parents are under the impression she is at Thorne Park, my parents will believe she has returned home. It will be at least a month before anyone even realizes she is gone.”
Mary’s look was skeptical. “But eventually, Miss True must return home, milady. She cannot stay hidden forever. And what then?”
Emily frowned at the reminder that there was no solution for what would occur at that point.
Penelope needed help to avoid being shackled to a man she did not love.
Hiding would accomplish that for a short period, but then what?
Hope that Lord and Lady True relented in their unscrupulous husband hunt?
Pray that Penelope would be allowed to marry a man of her own choosing?
None of those seemed possible at the moment.
From her perch on the carriage seat, Emily watched other vehicles as they passed by on the busy London street.
The townhome was one of her family’s properties and had sat vacant for many years.
The staff there saw to its upkeep so it did not fall into disrepair.
Her mother once mentioned that the valuable property would likely be included as part of Emily’s bridal dowry when she finally married.
This sneaking around was worrisome, but if the property was meant to be hers eventually, Emily reasoned there was nothing wrong with using it now. No one would know she would be hiding Penelope there for a short time.
“Perhaps you will find your perfect match at the house party, milady,” Mary said in a gentle voice, squeezing Emily’s hand. “Lord Wyldewood will be there.”
Emily squirmed a bit on the carriage’s cushioned seat, tilting her parasol to conceal the heated flush that stained her cheeks pink.
It had been two weeks since the night Wylder snuck into her rooms. While the red marks on her arse had quickly faded, the memory of being struck with the riding crop still resonated deep within her.
She closed her eyes against an unexpected swell of desire.
She’d learned much of herself and Wylder during those hours.
She enjoyed a bite of pain with her pleasure, and Wylder relished the implementation of that pain.
Keeping their interactions from others was weighing heavily upon her.
Since the earl was still utilizing Simon’s financial genius, he’d been a frequent visitor to Blackthorne Manor over the last few weeks.
Wylder was distant and polite while in the presence of others, but in private, in those stolen moments hidden away in corridor alcoves and the manor library’s darkened corners, he kissed and caressed her with devilish intent.
His behavior was so bold, Emily wondered if he harbored a secret hope they might be caught after all.
Of course, Simon proved predictable in his scrutiny.
He watched Emily and Wylder closely, searching for any hint of affection that his best friend might have shown her.
His attention only wavered on those occasions that Penelope paid a call to Blackthorne Manor.
Simon always found a reason to hover nearby.
Penelope’s presence apparently disturbed him, but he still found a way to inject himself into the conversations.
Sprawled on the settee during tea. Appearing in the garden while the ladies took the afternoon air and admired the blooms. One evening in the library, he insisted on selecting a book for Penelope, interrupting the two girls as they whispered about their plans.
He was so annoying that Emily eventually snapped at him to leave them in peace, to which her brother grinned and continued extolling the qualities of the book he had chosen.
Yes… he was behaving very oddly indeed, but Emily could not focus on that when she had so much occupying her thoughts.
Between the illicit, stolen moments with Wylder and apprehension over being caught, the pressure to save her dearest friend from an unwanted, loveless marriage, and the relentless social swirl of the season, Emily was definitely feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all.
“I’m happy Lord and Lady Blackthorne are putting on this party,” Mary remarked cheerfully. “A bit of time away in the fresh air of the country will suit you, I think. You’ve not been sleeping well lately.”
Emily’s cheeks once again grew warm, her breath more shallow than she would have liked.
Of course, she was not sleeping well. Her dreams were fitful, disturbing episodes.
Ones fraught with appearances of Wylder St. Clair and his dirty mouth, hard hands, and heated kisses.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled at her maid.
“Yes, some time in the quiet of the country will be much appreciated.”
Even as she uttered the words, something inside Emily tightened as if in warning of impending doom.
She could not help feeling as though there might be some unexpected trouble.
A sudden shift in her once predictable world that would forever change her.
She tried telling herself she was being silly.
That the stress of Penelope’s situation and Wylder’s attention had tainted her everyday life.
Everything will be fine. It must be. Penelope will be safe, and my relationship with Wylder will continue as it has. And if he must pursue another woman to advance the illusion that we are simply acquaintances, then I will accept it and cry when I am alone.
Yes, everything would be fine.
*
Emily ran down the steps toward Thorne Park’s circular drive, her skirts gripped tightly in both hands so she would not trip.
“Penelope!” she called, approaching the coach before the matched horses were pulled to a stop. “You are finally here!”
“A little more decorum, daughter,” Lady Blackthorne called out in despair, but a pleased smile graced her lips as the coach finally came to a rest at the foot of the terrace steps.
Emily ignored her mother’s directive, standing impatiently and shifting her feet with excitement as the groom lowered the coach’s steps for the occupants to descend. A footman hopped up on the back of the vehicle and began unlashing the trunks so they could be lowered to the ground.
The first person to depart the coach was Lady Bashear, the Countess of Wentworth, and one of Lady Blackthorne’s closest friends.
She’d agreed to serve as Penelope’s chaperone in the absence of Lady True.
With a warm smile, the older lady accepted Emily’s polite curtsey and then kissed her on the cheek.
“Hello, my dear girl. I see your mother has yet to curb your natural exuberance.”
“She has admittedly tried her best, Lady Bashear,” Emily said with a blush, looking past the woman to see Penelope climbing slowly out of the coach with the assistance of a groom. Her friend did not look well at all. Emily wondered if she was reconsidering their plan.
“It would be a shame if she succeeded,” Lady Bashear said with a wink. “Now, allow me to greet your mother while you see to Miss True, my dear. The poor girl was ill for most of the journey and should be put to bed at once.”
“Oh, no… Penelope, are you ill?” Emily raced to help her friend as she emerged from the coach. Her features were a shade or two paler than ivory, while tiny beads of perspiration beaded her upper lip.
“Just a little… however, there is no need to worry.” Penelope’s smile was faint, but she reached out to embrace Emily with a strength that belied her tired features.
“You know I do not travel well. Although the journey was blessedly short, I found it difficult to stave off my usual ailment when trapped in a moving vehicle. There is no need to be overly concerned. It will pass the longer I stand on firm ground.”
“Thank goodness it is nothing terribly serious,” Emily said, letting out a breath of relief. “Come, I will accompany you to your room, where you can lie down and recover your bearings. I’ll ring down to the kitchens and have Mrs. Crosby bring up some tea to help settle your nerves.”
“That would be most welcome,” Penelope said, casting Lady Bashear and Emily’s mother a glance from beneath the sweep of her lashes.
In a whisper, she murmured, “Lady Bashear was most adamant in questioning me on any prospects you might have at the moment. It seems she has a distant nephew by marriage who will be in attendance for the ball. She’s convinced you and he have much in common, and she’s looking forward to making the necessary introductions. ”
“Oh, bother,” Emily groaned, linking an arm with Penelope as they began walking toward the terrace steps. “I’m certain she has already inquired of my mother on the subject, if she felt confident enough to bring the subject up in conversation.”
“I am to be offered up as a poor second choice if you show no interest in the man.” Penelope grimaced at the thought.
Emily whispered, “If we stay the course, you will be heading back to London within the week.”