Uh oh. What have I started?
Seeing the spark in her sister’s eyes, Emma said, “I, er, thought you were enjoying your lessons and the delights of Town.”
“I am, but what you’re doing soundsmorefun.”
“It isn’t a game,” Thea chided gently. “The duke’s life is at stake. You mustn’t pester Ambrose and distract him from serious work.”
“You’re such a spoilsport.” With a good-natured sigh, Violet went to fetch Emma’s ball gown from the dressing screen.
Emma had the feeling that the conversation was not quite finished. Like the pot, however, she couldn’t very well call the kettle black. Perhaps Violet’s sudden interest would go the way of so many of the dear girl’s impulses. A while back, after seeing a performance at Astley’s, Vi had decided to become an acrobat.
Whatever the case, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, Emma thought.
Thea said, “Well, I, for one, am happy that you’ve found someone who appreciates you, Em. And you’ll make a fine duchess.”
“How difficult could that be?” Vi returned with the eggshell satin cradled in her arms. “All you have to do is wear a hideous turban on your head and refer to yourself in the first person plural.” She mimicked in a nasal tone, “We do not find the dessert to our liking. We are not amused at being served plum pudding when we specifically requested a chocolate gateau.”
Polly giggled.
Even Thea’s lips twitched as she helped Emma into the gown.
“I don’t care about being a duchess. I care about... him.” Emma tried to put into words what she knew in her heart. “I can’t explain it, but I thinks he needs me. From what I’ve gathered, his first marriage was rather horrid. And his mama died when he was young and then he was separated from Mr. McLeod at an early age. I don’t think he’s ever felt a part of a true family.”
“Gadzooks,” Violet said with sympathy.
“Poor man,” Thea murmured.
“He’s lonely,” Polly whispered.
If there was anything a Kent understood, it was the importance of family.
“Well, if you marry him, then he’ll become a member ofourfamily,” Vi said stoutly. “No one’s ever lonely when we’re around.”
“Thank you, dear, but nothing is settled yet. We have a murderer to find. Moreover, I need to be certain that we truly suit and can live in the same world.”
“Turn around and look in the mirror,” Thea suggested.
Emma did—and her breath stuttered.
The ivory gown left her shoulders bare, the bodice glimmering with the subtle sheen of seed pearls embroidered in a swirling vine pattern. The waistline followed the current trend, nipping in at her waist and flaring subtly at her hips. The hem was caught up at regular intervals by ribbons fashioned to look like tiny, magenta butterflies, the bright splashes of color echoing the brilliance of the necklace.
Bemused, she said, “I do look different, don’t I?”
“Oh Emma,” Polly said, “you look like aduchess.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dusk had fallen, making the alleyway in the Seven Dials even darker. The stench of human waste filled the fetid air, tempting Alaric to cover his nose with a scented handkerchief. The only reason he didn’t was because he wouldn’t give his brother the satisfaction. Parked against the adjacent wall, Will was monitoring the tavern across the street.
“You’re certain Babcock said The Thirsty Ox?” he said for the umpteenth time.
“There’s nothing wrong with my hearing,” Alaric replied. “Babcock told me two facts. One, our shooter’s name is Clive Palmer, and two, he visits this tavern every Friday.”
“I’m only asking because public houses can all sound the same. Coming from Mayfair, you might not appreciate the fine distinction between The Thirsty Ox, The Drunken Ox, The Thirsty Bear—”
“Christ’s blood, William, I’m a duke not a dunce,” Alaric said icily.
“Touchy, aren’t we?”
