Page 13

“I don’t know.” Belle narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I still think you’re leaving something out.”

“I saved the boy. I got the earrings. Period.” Emma gave Belle a sharp nod for emphasis.

“Emma, you were gone for an hour! Something must have happened between the boy and the earrings!”

“I was unconscious, that’s what happened! What do you think, I was ravished by some mysterious man?” Emma groaned inwardly as she realized how close to the truth that speculation actually was. She felt a little guilty for not telling Belle about her strange experience with the Duke of Ashbourne. They usually told each other everything. But Emma felt strangely possessive of her time with the duke, and she didn’t feel like sharing her memory with anyone, not even Belle.

“Well, I think it’s absolutely famous that it was the Countess of Wilding who gave you those earrings,” Belle chuckled, amusement dancing in her bright blue eyes. “I know Sophie fairly well. She isn’t very much older than we are. Mama and her mother are good friends. They’ll all just scream when they hear what happened. Although perhaps we shouldn’t say anything. I don’t think Mama would look favorably upon your going out alone dressed as a maid. Still, the situation is most amusing. I can’t believe Sophie gave you jewels to secure your future. Why, with your fortune, you could buy and sell us all.”

“Hardly,” Emma said dryly, pointedly glancing at the string of pearls draped around Belle’s throat. “Besides, she did think I was a maid.”

“I know, I know. Still, it’s just too funny. I do wish that Sophie were coming tonight. I’d love to see her face when she walked into the ballroom and saw the ‘ scullery maid’ decked out in all her finery.”

“Really, Belle, that’s positively cruel of you. The countess was very distraught this afternoon. She nearly lost her son.”

“You’re calling me cruel? You, the queen of all practical jokesters? The same girl who sent poor Ned a fake love note from Clarissa Trent?”

Emma tried to suppress a mischievous grin. “Really, it needn’t have been such a big fuss.”

“You’re absolutely correct,” Belle stated with noticeable sarcasm. “And it wouldn’t have been, not if Ned hadn’t been hopelessly infatuated with the chit.”

Emma looked away innocently. “Well, how was I to know that? I haven’t made my debut yet, you know. I’m not privy to the latest gossip.”

“He only mentioned her name a hundred times a day.”

Emma “humphed” and gave her cousin a supercilious look. “Really, it all worked out for the best. Now we all know what a conniving little you-know-what Clarissa is. When it comes right down to it, I saved your brother from a terrible fate.”

“I suppose,” Belle conceded, “but Ned was so heartbroken when he professed his love for her, and she flatly stated she was holding out for a duke with lots of money.”

“I think he was more upset that she wasn’t the paragon he’d imagined her to be than he was because she didn’t return his feelings. But enough of that. I’ve learned my lesson—no more interference in Ned’s romantic life. Even if I am doing the right thing. So tell me, why isn’t Sophie coming tonight?”

“I’m not sure. Probably because her husband is away on business in the West Indies for a few months. I think she misses him. It was a love match, you know.” Belle sighed romantically.

“It’s probably for the best—even if you do have to miss seeing her shocked face. She’d get the surprise of her life if she saw me tonight. I’m sure it will be easier for everyone if I simply call on her tomorrow morning.”

“You’re probably right. Do say I can go with you, though. I so want to be there when she sees you.”

“Fine, fine, of course you can—Ouch!” Emma hollered as Meg tugged on her hair a little too vigorously.

“Quit your complaining, Miss Emma,” Meg scolded. “It takes hard work and a little bit of pain to be beautiful.”

“Goodness! If it’s going to require that much pain, I really don’t need to be beautiful. Just leave my hair down. It’s much more comfortable that way.”

Meg looked agonized. “I couldn’t do that. It’s not at all fashionable.”

“Oh, all right, do whatever you like with it, Meg. Just try to keep the discomfort at a minimum.”

Belle laughed. “Oh, Emma, I don’t know how you’re going to make it through an entire season.”

“I don’t know, either. I can never seem to remember how to be correct.”

“Stop shaking your head!” Meg yelled. “Else we’ll be here all night, and you’ll miss the ball.”

“With the way my head hurts, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” Emma muttered.

“Did you say something?” Belle asked absently.

“It was nothing.” Emma didn’t want Belle to know how large the lump on her head really was. Belle was sure to tell her mother, and Emma knew that her aunt would be worried sick. The evening would be ruined unless she ignored the pain and smiled her way through the party. “Why don’t you tell me more about Sophie?” Emma said, just to make conversation.

“Sophie? She’s a lovely person. Talks a lot, though.”

Emma giggled. “I noticed.”

“She and her husband are terribly devoted to one another. I know she just misses him dreadfully.”