Emma nodded. "Jane would come by our cottage on the weekends when Ambrose came to visit. She'd bring baked goods—she made the most marvelous cakes—and flirt with him. Soon, my brother started courting her. After a year, they became engaged. I think Ambrose quite fancied the notion of being married. He was saving up to buy a cottage for him and Jane."
A cottage and a pretty country wife who cooked. Of course that is what Ambrose wanted.
"What happened?" Marianne said grimly.
"Wedid. One tragedy after another struck our family. First Mother died and then Father developed apoplexy and couldn't work any longer. It fell on Ambrose to care for all of us. Truthfully, he'd been supporting us all along, but now he had to use all his earnings just to keep us afloat. He had to put off getting married." With a dark glance, Emma added, "That made Jane angry."
"But his situation—surely she understood his loyalty to his family."
"She wanted to have her own comforts," Emma said in flat tones, "and she was tired of waiting. Besides, I don't think she liked us very much."
"Why ever not?" Marianne said, surprised. Though she'd spent only a week with them, she found the Kents altogether charming. They were undeniably a ragtag bunch, yet there was an innocence to the family, a fierce devotion to one another that made her want to shelter them from the ugliness of the world. For one wistful moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to belong... to be a part of such unconditional love.
"In Chudleigh Crest we were considered a bit... odd." A look flashed across Emma's face, and she quickly shrugged. "Not that it mattered to us. At any rate, Jane found herself another beau—a wealthy merchant passing through the village. She ran off with him."
"Dear God."
Emma nodded grimly. "When Ambrose found out, he went after them. He felt responsible, I think, because he had made Jane wait for him. He caught up with them in Brighton."
"And?"
"Jane was living under the merchant's protection. Apparently, he had a wife in London." With a look of disgust, Emma said, "Ambrose offered to take Jane back, to marry her—but she refused. Said it was better to be a rich man's mistress than a poor man's wife."
Anger smoldered beneath Marianne's breastbone.The heartless bitch.
"My brother has sacrificed too much for us. I hope you understand why I don't wish for him to be hurt again," Emma said.
"I'm not planning on hurting him." Yet guilt needled Marianne. She'd offered Ambrose so very little—nothing more than the moment. Whilst he... he was helping her find her very heart again.
"Would you consider marrying him?" Emma asked.
"That has not come up." Discomfited by that inquiring brown gaze, Marianne said with a touch of defensiveness, "He hasn't brought it up, you know."
"And if he did?"
"That is between him and me." Thank God they had arrived at Berkeley Square. Marianne spotted Helena's open-air carriage beneath the waving maples, the Kents' heads gleaming in the sunlight as they ate their ices. "Ah, there is your family now. Let us rejoin them."
Emma chuffed out a breath. "If I may say just one more thing?"
Marianne raised a brow.
"I like you," the girl said, her eyes earnest, "and I hope you will consider marrying my brother. He's a good sort—loyal and loving." Her gaze lowered to the scuffed tips of her boots. "And I give you my word, my lady, that I shall do my best to care for my family. We shan't get in your way."
Marianne's throat thickened. Who knew the power of sincerity? The Kents seem to have it in spades. She tipped the other's chin up.
"Dearest girl," she said, "no matter how things unfold between Ambrose and me, you and your family are never the problem, do you understand?"
Emma blinked, her nod uncertain.
"Now let us join the others—" Marianne began when an urchin dressed in grimy rags came jogging up.
"Are you Lady Draven?" the boy said.
"I am," Marianne said, frowning.
The urchin held out a note. "For you, yer ladyship."
Marianne exchanged a coin for the sealed note. The urchin scampered off. A feeling of foreboding stole over her as she saw her name written in an unfamiliar hand.
