She’d danced around the idea long enough. No more distractions. No more sultry glances from men with merchant blood and inconvenient mouths.
A proper earl. A duke would be better, but yes, a proper earl would suffice. Someone who would restore her confidence, back her influence, and offer if not affection, then at least admiration. Shewouldbe a countess. Not a scandal.
She rang for Jane.
“Good morning, my lady.”
“I must dress,” Rose said. “I wish to return to London.”
Jane swallowed. “Of course, my lady.”
Today was a new day. The Adventurous Rose reasserted herself with stern resolve. This had been but a minor setback. Upon her return to London, she would begin again. Find Lord Hallandale and marry him. She didn’t care if he had a paunch as huge as the King’s or was missing his front teeth! Emerson Whitmore could go back to being nothing more than an unfortunate curiosity she would soon forget.
She was positively certain.
Almost.
~~~
“Emerson.”
He was too exhausted for dreams, or nightmares, or interruptions of any sort.
“Emerson.” The voice penetrated more urgent.
It took a moment for him to pry his eyes apart and adjust. A glance toward the windows gave no indication as to the time of day, certainly not with the slashing rain—
Time of day?He bolted up. “What time is it?” he growled.
Ben straightened. “Half past three.”
Emerson pushed upright. “Three?”
A dull ache throbbed behind Emerson’s temples as the fog of sleep slowly lifted.
“You’ve a missive.” Ben held out a folded sheet of foolscap. “Yates didn’t wish to disturb you. I, of course, don’t possess a shred of guilt in doing so.”
Cold unease pierced Emerson’s chest. He reached for the note and broke the fold and read.
Mr. Whitmore,
You have been warned and have chosen not to heed my sage advice. Therefore, I must inure greater prudence in future. Lady Stanford moves about London with admirable freedom. T’would be a pity were that freedom curtailed by circumstances beyond her control.
Attend to your own affairs, sir, and cease your inquiries. You will find this advice greatly to her benefit.
Emerson read it again. Then a third time. Dread and a red haze of fury took him by the throat.
“Emerson, what is it?” The concern from Ben barely penetrated as the air in the room seemed to tighten.
“Who delivered it?” he asked quietly.
Ben shook his head. “Street lad. Gone before Yates could question him.”
Emerson folded the paper with deliberate care. “Have the carriage brought around.”
Ben’s brows lifted. “Where are we going?”
Emerson rose from the bed, furious with himself. How could he have fallen asleep? “You are going nowhere. I, it appears, will be traveling to Buckinghamshire.”
