Uncle Silas looked to Lord Windham and Emma’s heart hitched. She could not help but feel sorry for her uncle. Though his financial straits were of his own creation, she understood how it pained him to be at the barons’mercy.
If only he’d not been so foolish. She sighed, averting her gaze. As much as she would like to save her uncle, she could not, for she’d not sacrifice her ownwellbeing.
“A couple of pints of your finest ale and tea for the lady. Bring some beef stew, bread, and butter as well,” Lord Windham ordered. “Do you desire anything else, my pet? Perhaps a sweettreat?”
Emma forced herself to meet his gaze. “No, what you have ordered is more than sufficient, mylord.”
He turned his attention back to the serving woman. “That will beall.”
“Right away, Me Lord.” The woman turned and bustledaway.
Lord Windham slid his chair closer to Emma’s, reaching out to rest his hand on herthigh.
She could not fight the urge to react, jumping at the invasion before settling herself. Even through her skirts, her skin crawled at his touch. She swallowed hard, focusing on herplan.
“We are to be wed by this time on the marrow. Let us do away with formalities. Please address me as Leviticus.” Lord Windham patted herthigh.
Had anyone in the crush of guests noticed the familiarities he was taking? Emma closed her eyes, reminding herself that she had to play along. “As you wish, Le…Leviticus.” The name soured on her tongue. “Might I be excused for amoment?”
“Indeed, but do not tarry for I want you to eat while your meal is still hot.” Lord Windham smiled. “You will need your energy on the marrow.” He squeezed her thigh before removing his disgusting hand fromher.
Emma forced a painful grin before rising from her chair. It took all she possessed to get up in a graceful manner rather than bolting from the seat as she wished to. With her attention trained on the exit, she made her way across the crowded diningroom.
Reaching the door, she stepped through, then gave into the urge to glance over her shoulder. Lord Windham stared at her from across theroom.
She gave a quick grin then turned into the hall as if she were going to use the privy. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she circled back and walked with hurried steps toward the mainexit.
The bright noonday sun caused her to squint as she stepped into the drive. With a cursory glance around, she decided to make her way to the stables. She would stash herself away there until she decided what to do next. Ignoring her pounding heart, she continued toward thebuilding.
Emma drew to a stop outside of the stable entrance. Several voices drifted out from within the large wooden building. Drat! She should have suspected there would be people within. It would be impossible for her to sneak past them without detection and being seen would not do. Surely, someone would give her away the moment Lord Windham and Uncle Silas camelooking.
Her eyes lit on a nearby traveling coach pulled by four matching gray horses and tethered to a hitching post. Emma could not guess whether the carriage was preparing to come or go, nor did she know if anyone occupied it, though she meant to find out. She nibbled her lower lip, moving closer to theconveyance.
Emma looked around once more, not at all sure what she should do. Maybe taking her chances in the woods would serve her best, though she was quite certain she’d be safer in the carriage boot. One thing was certain, she could not stand her all day or she’d not get away from Lord Windham atall.
She stepped crept up to the back of the coach and lifted the boot open in preparation to climb inside. Her heart sank, the compartment held far too much luggage for her to fit within. She lowered the lid back into place, her pulse hammering. What was she to donow?
Panic filled her at the sound of Uncle Silas’s voice. “Emma. Emma, where areyou?”
Without thought, she gathered her skirts in her hands and moved to open the carriage door before tumbling inside. She scrambled to pull the door closed before drawing in a deep breath, her hand on her chest, covering her racingheart.
Thank God the coach was unoccupied, but for how long? Could she grovel for mercy from the coaches’ owner? Seated on the carriage floor, she leaned against the bench seat and pulled her knees to her chest. Escaping seemed impossible, perhaps she should accept her fate and return to Uncle Silas and LordWindham.
The very idea sent a wave of sickness through her. No, she’d not give up—could not give in. Emma pushed herself up, glancing behind her as her skirt caught on the bench. A smile spread across her face when she saw the seat lifting behind her. ThankHeaven.
She took hold of the seat with one hand as she turned, then lifted it to peer inside. A large compartment greeted her curious eyes with only a small box and folded blanket inside. Without a second thought, Emma climbed into its depth and lowered the bench seat to concealherself.
She knew not where the coach would be traveling, nor when it would depart, but at least for now, she wassafe.
