Emma’s lashes swept down, her lips closed against the need to assure her sister that she would indeed find the fare at Gunter’s most pleasing. But since Emma had gone to the tea shop with Nick, she thought it best not to expound on the topic.
At the thought of Nick, her chest gave a painful squeeze; ruthlessly, she did her best to ignore the sensation. And here she’d just been congratulating herself for not thinking about him—she’d lasted three entire minutes this time.
“It sounds wonderful, but I am quite content as I am today. You can tell me all about your excursion on your return.”
Sigrid gave her another disappointed look.
Had Sigrid been planning to shop and dine alone, Emma would most likely have consented to accompany her. But she knew that her sister planned to join a group of aristocratic ladies on her rounds. The idea of being required to laugh and smile and act as though she were having a grand time was simply more than she could stand. Bad enough the afternoon gatherings and dinner parties she was forced to endure without volunteering for more.
The majority of her day was hers to do with as she liked, and although some might say she would be better off not wallowing in her misery by remaining home alone, she could not abide the alternative. Let Sigrid make merry in London. She would stay home with her book.
“Very well,” her sister said, pulling at the wrist of one of her hand-dyed salmon pink gloves. The color was an exact match for her cool-weather pelisse and an excellent foil for the dramatic gold-and-ivory striped walking dress she wore beneath. Her shoes were a buttery tan leather, her jewelry confined this morning to a simple gold cross and a pair of drop pearl earrings. As always, she looked as if she could have posed for a fashion plate.
“I shall bring back a selection of cakes for you, so you shan’t miss out entirely,” Sigrid stated. Leaning down, she retrieved her chip-straw bonnet with its salmon pink silk ribbons and white ostrich feather, then tied it on her head at a dashing angle.
“That is very good of you,” Emma said.
“Yes, it is,” Sigrid agreed. “Now, don’t stay inside the whole day with that book. If you aren’t careful, you shall turn into a bluestocking.”
Emma shook her head. “I do not believe there is much chance of that. Have a lovely time poring over silks and satins and feathers.”
Sigrid sent her a wide smile, then turned to go on her way.
Two minutes later, the house had grown quiet once again. With the silence, Emma’s spirits fell.
Sighing, she returned to her book.
But the story had lost its power to hold her interest and soon she found herself staring out the window, trying hard not to think of Nick.
What is he doing? she wondered. Was he still in London or had he gone to his country estate as so many of the English nobility did this time of year? Or had he been invited to attend a party at a country house perhaps, and was even now surrounded by interesting, eligible young women, all of whom were vying for his attention? At this very moment, he might be strolling in the gardens with one of them, some beautiful girl who hung on his arm and laughed at every amusing thing he said—laughed together as she and Nick had once done.
Does he ever think of me, or am I no more now than a faded memory? Does he still hate me for deceiving him? Or does he no longer care?
Despite knowing there would be no repeat offerings of flowers from him, she had not been able to keep from being disappointed when no further bouquets arrived from N. He hadn’t sent another note either; she would have relished one even if the words had been harsh or condemning. Apparently he had chosen to honor her parting remark and had decided not to contact her again in any way.
It is for the best, she told herself. But if it is, why does it hurt so much?
Her chest gave another painful squeeze and she pressed a hand over her heart, faintly breathless. Chiding herself for the reaction, she forced herself to return to her reading.
The effort proved no more successful than before, however, and soon she found herself considering Sigrid’s advice about going for a walk around the grounds. Before she could act on her decision, she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway together with a murmur of voices.
A sharp rap came at the door.
“Come,” she called.
Baroness Zimmer entered the room, a faintly harried expression on her face. “Pardon the intrusion, Your Highness, but you have guests. I was given no notice of their impending arrival or I would have made ready to receive them properly.”
Guests? Who would possibly come here unannounced?
Emma laid her book aside and stood. “Who is it, Zimmer?”
But before the baroness could answer, the doors swung wide and in strode two young women Emma had not thought to see again for a very long time.