“Exactly right, Mrs. Adams.” The manager nodded in approval. “Now, I shall leave you to your work. My office is just down the hall should you have any need of me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Metcalf. You are very kind.”
Executing another bow of his head, accompanied by what sounded like a military click of his heels, he turned in place and strode from the room, taking extra care with drawing her door closed again behind him.
Just over an hour later, Emma was on her way back to Angelique’s town house. Her first day as Bentley’s bookkeeper was done. Despite the uneasiness of being in Mr. Bentley’s presence and her initial uncertainty over whether or not she was competent to manage such a responsibility, she felt she had proved to herself that she had made the right decision.
And not only that, she enjoyed the work. It was rewarding to bring various figures and calculations together into perfect balance. She loved the structure and pattern inherent in mathematics. The way it always followed the same rules and never surprised you. It was calming to work in such a consistent medium.
Much more calming than being responsible for two young women in the unpredictable marriage market.
Once home, Emma made quick work of transitioning out of the staid appearance she cultivated for her new position and into the more genteel presentation of a high-society spinster. Then she rushed down to the small front parlor where Lily—in pale pink—and Portia—in white with a bold purple sash—were already seated, awaiting their callers. Angelique sat in her favorite plush chair, looking elegant in a burgundy gown with black lace trim. A book of sonnets was lifted in front of her face.
Both girls looked up at Emma’s entrance and appeared to release a shared breath.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Lily sighed. “We were not sure you had made it home yet.”
“I am here,” Emma assured them, glancing at the clock. “With time to spare.”
“Have you gone out already this morning, darling?” Angelique inquired as she peeked out from behind her book of poetry.
The girls exchanged a glance. They had decided not to apprise their great-aunt of Emma’s employment. The lady’s occasional slips in propriety and her tendency to say unexpected things made them nervous about her unintentionally revealing something. Not to mention that the dowager countess may object to Emma taking such a position and their entry into society relied heavily upon the lady’s gracious chaperonage.
“Just a brief errand,” Emma replied in a breezy tone as she took a seat in one of the available chairs. The lie made her stomach tighten, but she reminded herself it was a necessary evil if she were to protect the Chadwicks’ position in society. Still, the guilt over deceiving someone who so graciously agreed to help them remained heavy in the back of her mind.
In an attempt to shift the focus of conversation, she asked brightly, “How is everyone today?”
“Just lovely. Slept until noon myself,” Portia offered with an inquisitive stare. “And you, Emma? How was your morning?”
“Rather uneventful,” she replied, wondering at the girl’s hard tone. She would have asked her about it, but then there was no more time for small talk as the first caller arrived.
Lord Epping, a young man barely out of university, sauntered into the room with a lanky stride. Emma was not convinced he was ready to seek a wife, but he and several of his friends had taken to calling on Portia with some regularity. He greeted all four ladies with a generous grin then settled onto the sofa beside Portia. Pleasantries were still being traded when the next caller arrived, this one for Lily.
Mr. Lockton was several years older than Lord Epping and most certainly in the market for a wife. His first wife had passed after a terrible illness and had left him with no less than five young children. He was not Emma’s first choice for Lily, since he possessed a rather ambivalent manner. But he did have a substantial income, and the motherless children would likely be a draw for her softhearted sister.
The gentlemen shook hands and the discussion turned predictably toward the weather just as Lord Fallbrook arrived, followed by Mr. Hastings and Mr. Campbell. And so the next few hours passed. Lord Epping, who had arrived first, should have taken his leave once seating became hard to come by, but the bold lad stuck around until two more lords from his set arrived. After a short time, all three left together in a ruckus of activity that left the room feeling melancholy by comparison. By four o’clock, all of the suitors had drifted off to other entertainments.
Once the front door closed behind the last gentleman, Angelique slumped in her chair with a grand and theatrical sigh. “Mon dieu. Thank goodness that is finished.”