Emmie’s heart lifted. What a wonderful man! If he were standing here right now, she’d probably hug him.
“How exciting!” Anna cheered as the tears disappeared from her eyes. “Now we must getyourtrunk packed.”
“Yes, um… that’s what I thought too,” Rebecca said in a rush. “So I brought up some tea for both of you.” She handed Emmie a cup first, then Anna.
Emmie eyed the other woman carefully. Rebecca was certainly acting out of character—being nice, that was.
“Thank you, Miss Crampton.” She took the teacup from her.
Anna took hers and sipped. As Emmie drank her tea, she watched Rebecca over the rim of the cup. Something was definitely not right. From the way the other woman’s sinister eyes watched Emmie, the hairs on the back of her neck stood. Did shewantto travel to London with such a calculating woman?
Sighing heavily, Rebecca offered a faux smile, turned, and hurried out of the room. Emmie was even leerier of the woman’s actions now.
Once they were finished packing, Anna returned downstairs, but Emmie wasn’t feeling well. By the time dinner was served, her stomach was roiling, and she stayed upstairs in her bedroom. The tang of the tea still lingered in her mouth and tasted very different from what she’d drunk before. For some reason, her stomach didn’t like whatever it was Rebecca had given her. Yet Anna seemed just fine.
The night passed too slowly. Emmie couldn’t sleep because she was running to the chamber pot too often, upheaving whatever it was that irritated her stomach. By the next morning, she was too tired and weak to even get out of bed. When Anna and Rebecca came to Emmie’s room, she didn’t have the strength to even smile.
“Oh, dear.” Anna touched her hand to Emmie’s cold face. “Miss Crampton, I don’t think we should go to London with Emmie this sick.”
“How sad,” Rebecca said with entirely too much bounce in her voice. “Well, everything is already in place for us to travel.” She pouted, although Emmie knew it was all for show.
“Go on without me,” Emmie whispered brokenly.
Rebecca tapped Anna’s arm. “I’ll let our servants know to take special care of Miss Emmie while we are gone.”
Confusion caused Anna’s eyes to narrow as her forehead creased. “I don’t know. Maybe I should stay—”
“Absolutely not,” Rebecca said quickly. “Miss Emmie will be just fine.” She glared at Emmie. “Won’t you?”
If this were any other day, Emmie would have loved to argue with her. But she just didn’t have it in her now. “Yes, I shall be just fine. I’m actually feeling slightly better than I did last night,” she lied.
Frowning, Anna folded her arms. “Well, all right, if you insist.”
“I do,” Emmie whispered.
When the two women left, Emmie groaned and turned in her bed, pulling the blanket up higher. She needed rest badly.
By midafternoon, she was back to feeling normal. It was strange that the stomach ailment would affect her in such a way. Her mind was working better as well, and sheknewRebecca had put something in her tea to make her so sick. That was the reason the insufferable woman had acted the way she had.
On the second day, Emmie decided she wasn’t going to sit around and be bored, and would do something instead. She changed into her riding habit—not Anna’s, buthers—and left the house. This particular riding habit wasn’t as new as her others, but because it had been her favorite for over a year, it was wellworn, so she didn’t think any of the Cramptons’ servants would question why she was wearing one of Lady Sarah’s outfits.
Emmie ran right to the stables. As she entered, the stable boy stood talking to another person. She couldn’t see who it was until she moved closer and noticed Broderick. His gaze met hers, holding her prisoner. It was too late to leave now.
Staring at him nearly caused her to have heart palpitations. Every time she’d seen him before, he was dressed in fancier clothes. Now he looked more like a farmer, but he was absolutely breathtaking in his fawn-colored shirt, brown breeches, and black knee-high riding boots.
He stopped the conversation with the stable boy, who then turned to fetch a horse. Broderick smiled at her, so she returned the gesture. She still felt uncomfortable under his close scrutiny but tried to be polite, nonetheless.
“Good day, Miss Emmie. What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I have come to ride one of Mr. Crampton’s horses.”
He lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. “Indeed? Have you done this before?”
“Yes. Mr. Crampton gave me permission not long after Lady Sarah and I arrived.”
Slowly his smile widened. “Splendid. Now we can ride together.”
Her heart pounded with uncertainty, yet the idea did sound exciting. It was either that or be very bored. “Why didn’t you travel to London with your aunt and uncle yesterday?”
