Oliver’s back stiffened, but red rose to his cheeks. “Not quite, Louisa.”
“So this lady is not your wife?”
“No,” Oliver said.
Louisa—Lady Eynsham—looked fully at Emily. “If he has made you promises, let me know and I will ensure he keeps them.”
Oliver groaned. “If I were to do such a thing, would I really bring herhere?”
“I confess I’d expected you to bring a wife here.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s good to see you, Oliver,so longas you have not compromised this poor girl.”
“Her name is Miss Brunton.” Oliver, Emily noted, made no mention of having not compromised her. A fair thing to do, given the opposite was true. “Emily, this is my sister-in-law, Lady Eynsham.”
Lady Eynsham smiled at her, and Emily knew, suddenly, that this woman would be an ally here. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Brunton. Please forgive my welcome.”
“I know it’s somewhat presumptuous of me to arrive in this way,” Emily began, but Oliver shook his head.
“I was the one to bring her here,” he said. “We’ve come to speak with Henry.”
“But the business Mr Beaumont wishes to speak to Lord Eynsham about is mine,” Emily said. “My sister has . . .” She hesitated, but they had come asking for help; she could conceal nothing. “My sister has run away with a known rake, and I need help finding her. Mr Beaumont has been so good as to champion my cause.”
AtMr Beaumont, Oliver blinked, glancing at her with sudden amusement. Lady Eynsham, almost certainly, also caught the look, but Emily didn’t have the energy to worry about that. She was an unmarried woman arriving unchaperoned with an unmarried man. There were certain conclusions that could be drawn from that—and really, were they wrong?
“In that case, may I suggest you take this time to freshen up?” Lady Eynsham said. “You have been travelling, and did you walk here?” She glanced at the mud along the hem of Emily’s skirt.
Emily flushed, hating that wealth—or lack thereof—could make her feel like this. “I have no further clothes to change into, my lady.”
“Call me Louisa,” Lady Eynsham said cheerfully. “We don’t stand on ceremony here, and if you’re a friend of Oliver’s, you’re a friend of ours. As for clothes—I amcertainI will have something that suits your complexion far better than mine. Are you hungry? I’ll send for a tray to be sent upstairs.”
“Louisa,” Oliver said. “Our request is of some urgency.”
“Not so urgent that you can’t make yourselves presentable,” Louisa said. “And eat something. You look half dead, the both of you.” She gave Oliver a stern glance, and to Emily’s surprised, he ducked his head.
“If you insist.”
“I will not allow you to neglect Miss Brunton’s needs. Now, my dear, please do come with me. Allow me to rectify the incivility of my welcome.”
Emily was too tired—and yes, hungry—to argue. “Thank you, my lady.”
“I recommend you do the same,” Lady Eynsham said pointedly. “You look just as dusty and disreputable, Oliver.”
“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently. “I’ll meet you down here shortly?”
Lady Eynsham clucked her tongue in obvious amusement. “You may be sure I will deliver her back to you safe and sound.”
Emily spared Oliver one last glance as she was ushered from the room.
Everything happened so quickly after that. Louisa escorted Emily through the great house to a guest room, and once they arrived, she rang for some dresses and food to be sent up.
“I have excellent taste, generally speaking,” she said, sinking gracefully into the chaise longue by the fireplace, “butsometimes I fall in love with a gown that doesn’t suit me and I buy it because I have the means to do so. Inevitably, the gowns never suit me, and I rarely wear them. Your complexion, I think, would suit them better.”
“You are very kind,” Emily said stiffly.
“Don’t get on your high horse,” Louisa said, smiling slightly. “There’s no shame in receiving help once in a while when it’s necessary. Tell me something, Miss Brunton. Does he love you?”
Emily blinked. She felt a little faint—from the walk and the lack of food, probably. Her thoughts buzzed about her head like bluebottles, throwing themselves against the walls of her mind.
“Oliver,” Louisa said when Emily didn’t speak. “I presume he does, or he wouldn’t have brought you here all this way.” She rose from where she’d been reclined, picking a white towel from where it lay beside a pretty copper bowl of water. “Here,” she said, holding it out to Emily. “You are under no obligation to wear one of my dresses, but you should wash your face.”
