Kate’s stomach shriveled. What an awful, horrible friend she was. “I’m sorry! Of course, you weren’t there. I was mistaken. I’m a fool. I don’t know what I’m saying. Please forgive me!”
Emilia sniffed. “Sometimes, I’m so distraught that I imagine I see him, walking on the street or driving past me in a carriage. He’ll appear out of nowhere—my darling brother—as real as if he stood before me in the flesh. But to be sure, it is only a figment of my imagination.” She gave Kate a sad smile. “You mustn’t think yourself mad. Grief can play powerful tricks on the mind. It happens to the best of us.”
Kate nodded. Her certainty of what she’d thought she’d seen was now shattered. “Oh, Emilia, I have missed you. I don’t think I realized just how much until this moment.” She embraced her friend. Emilia was right. It had been her imagination. Emilia could not have been at Lady Ashworth’s ball. She was in deep mourning for her brother.
Emilia wiped a tear from her eye. “I can’t tell you how guilty I feel, knowing that I survived the accident and darling Theo perished,” she said. “I wish he were the one sitting here with you now.”
Kate reached for her friend’s hand. “Oh, my dearest Emilia. How you must suffer.”
“It’s not only the pain of losing a brother—to be sure—that is agony. But now that Theo’s gone, I’ve found myself completely destitute and alone in the world. I’m so afraid, Kate.”
“You’re not destitute. You have me. And you’ll stay with us. We will introduce you to society, and I am sure you will make a wonderful match and have a family of your own one day. Our children will grow up together and be the best of friends.”
“They’ll be cousins,” Emilia said, smiling through her tears. “To think you might be carrying a little Theo in your womb.” She placed a hand on Kate’s stomach, “It’s so…I can’t…” Emilia’s lovely blue eyes turned watery again.
“Oh, Emilia. I miss him, too.”
“Do you?” Emilia asked, her voice suddenly cold.
“Of course, I do,” Kate protested, somewhat taken aback. “I loved Theo, you know that.” But guilt gnawed at Kate as she spoke. Since marrying Oliver, she realized that she’d never truly loved Theo, not in the way she loved Oliver. Theo had assuaged her fears of being an old maid, left behind to rot as her father’s keeper. He’d whispered sweet words telling her how beautiful she was and how much he desired her, but she’d never felt as connected to him as she did to Oliver. Oliver was her one true love, but she couldn’t admit that to Emilia.
“I know you did,” Emilia said, suddenly warm again. “I bore witness to your love. But when I look at this house and the handsome earl you married, I can’t help wondering if, deep down, you are happy that things turned out the way they did. You’re happy Theo is dead.”
Kate’s chest tightened as guilt took hold. “Emilia don’t say such things! I am happy I met Oliver. He is my husband, and I love him dearly. But I loved Theo too. He is my child’s father and will always have a special place in my heart.”
Emilia smiled. “I’m sure he will. And I’m so pleased that I’ll have the chance to tell his son or daughter all about him. It will be like having a part of him with me again.”
Kate bit her lip. She’d have to have a difficult conversation with Emilia about the child, and she’d have to tread very carefully so as not to injure her further. “I am so pleased you will be part of your niece’s or nephew’s life. But you must remember, never mention that Oliver is not the child’s father. If you do it will ruin his ability to inherit Oliver’s title, or if it’s a girl, her opportunity to make a good match. It’s for the good of the child. You understand that don’t you?”
For a minute, Kate thought she saw a coldness in Emilia’s gaze, and her heart froze in fear. But then Emilia smiled, and the warmth in her eyes returned. “I understand,” she said, leaning in to give Kate another embrace. “You can count on me being your greatest confidant and friend.” She placed her hand on Kate’s belly. “I already cherish this child. He’s all I have left of my brother.” Then she turned away, but before she did, Kate caught another glimpse of the frost in Emilia’s eyes, and it sent a shiver down her spine. But she immediately pushed the feeling aside. Poor Emilia had suffered tremendously, while she’d been living a dream. Her dearest friend was right. She’d barely taken the time to mourn Theo. Instead, she’d selfishly indulged in a new happiness. So, who was she to judge Emilia?
Chapter Ten
A Week Later
“You look positivelyradiant,” Oliver said, kissing his wife.
“Do I? Well, then, it is thanks to you for letting Emilia stay. I can’t tell you how much joy it brings me to have my dear friend back.”
“And I can’t tell you how much joy it brings me to see you happy,” Oliver said. “But do be cautious. People suffering from grief can be unpredictable in their moods. If Emilia sometimes seems”—he paused—“a little different from her old self, know that it’s only part of the grieving process. And you can always count on me for help if you feel overwhelmed.”
Kate nodded, somewhat relieved to hear Oliver’s explanation. At times, Emilia seemed like an entirely different person, and it hurt. But then she’d return to her previous self, and Kate would chastise herself for being unkind. It was good to know that none of it was her fault.
“Now”—Oliver circled his arm around his wife—“how is the planning for the dinner party going?”
“Marvelous. I’m preparing the invitations, and Emilia and I will be visiting the modiste today to be fitted for some newdresses. I hope you don’t mind, darling. But I can’t help wanting to get her something new for when she enters half-mourning in a few weeks. I’m think a violet dress will do nicely.”
“Of course, my dear. Go and enjoy yourselves. You both deserve a treat.”
Kate and Emiliaspent a full day at the modiste and then enjoyed tea at Gunter’s in Berkeley Square. They ordered a pot of tea and an assortment of teacakes, scones with clotted cream, and fresh berries. The plum and lemon cakes were Kate’s favorites, and she put one of each on her plate. Being with child had made her ravenous.
“I cannot wait to see you out of your full mourning clothes and in that violet dress.” Kate dropped a lump of sugar in her tea. “And in the meantime, the new black dress we ordered for you will do nicely for the dinner party.” She took a bite of her lemon cake, chewed, and swallowed. “That is delicious,” she said, taking a bite of the plum cake.
Emilia had not touched her tea or any cakes on the table.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Kate asked.
“How could I when I have to listen to talk about dinner parties, dresses, and cakes while my brother is not yet cold in his grave? I thought you said you loved him.”
