“But Broderick, I’m sure Emiline—”
Broderick flipped his hand in the air, breaking the contact between them. “It doesn’t matter, Uncle.” He breathed slowly, trying to maintain his anger. “I will do as I promised and helpher locate her mother. After that, I will leave her in your capable hands to keep her safe, just as her father wished.”
He spun around and marched away from his uncle. With any luck, he would be able to leave Emiline within a day and never see her again.
*
Emmie couldn’t sleep.Knowing she would get to see her mother—and speak with her—kept her dreaming of their meeting all night long. Once in a while, she was able to think of Broderick and how wonderful he had been to her, especially his gentle and passionate nature, and their magical night together… and how she knew she was a ruined woman.
But today wasn’t the day to stress about her feelings for Broderick, and especially how she would tell him the truth. She would worry about that later.
An hour ago, Rebecca had taken the fake Lady Sarah out to stroll through town with one of the servants. Emmie was invited—which surprised her greatly—but she declined. How could she enjoy Brighton when her mind would be preoccupied?
But now, as she paced her room, she rethought her answer. Perhaps she should have gone with Rebecca and Anna after all. At least she could have had something to do besides sit, pace, and create daydreams of how things would transpire with her mother.
When someone knocked on her door, she jumped and rushed to open it. Mr. and Mrs. Crampton stood in the hallway, both wearing sweet smiles. Remembering the role she was still playing, she curtsied and tried not to look them in the eyes. “Good day.”
“Miss Emmie,” Mr. Crampton began, “my wife and I would like a word with you, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” She moved to step out of the room, but instead, the older pair walked inside and closed the door. Emmie brought over two chairs then sat on the bed as each took a seat.
“Miss Emmie… Emiline, my wife and I would like you to know that”—he paused, scratching his neck just under his collar—“um, well… we know you are really the earl’s daughter, Lady Sarah.”
Emmie nearly choked on her gasp. She looked between the pair, trying to read their expressions. They should be very upset at her, yet they still wore the same tender smiles they had moments ago.
She wrung her hands together in her lap. “How… how did you find out?”
Mr. Crampton glanced briefly at his wife before chuckling and looking back at Emmie. “We actually realized it the day we went to London and took your maid. Because both Mrs. Crampton and I were friends with your parents, we recognized the resemblances right away, especially when your maid referred to you as Emiline.”
Emmie licked her suddenly dry lips. “And you are not angry with me?”
“Of course not, dear.” Mrs. Crampton reached over and patted Emmie’s hands. “We understand why you did it. We know you were only trying to protect yourself.”
Emmie shrugged. “Yes. The idea was my father’s. He worried for my safety, even though I would be with you. That is why he wanted me and my maid to play different roles.”
“I can sympathize, my dear. Being a father, we strive to do all we can to protect our daughters, but…” Mr. Crampton paused briefly, tapping his shoe against the floor. “But I hope you will want to return to being Lady Sarah today. I have arranged to pay a visit to Estelle Winterbourne’s estate to see your mother, and I would like for you to join me so that I might present you to her.”
Emmie’s jaw dropped. “You also know about my mother? You knew she was alive?”
Mr. Crampton shook his head. “Not until last evening, while we were at Mr. Goodfellow’s party.”
Tears stung Emmie’s eyes, and she quickly blinked away the moisture. “I would love to see my mother today. I just don’t know how to act.” Her voice cracked as a few tears slid down her face.
“Not to worry, dear.” Mrs. Crampton’s smile shook this time, as if she battled with her emotions, too. “Mr. Crampton and I will get things in order.”
Emmie nodded as tears continued to fall. She wiped them away as she gave the Cramptons her most grateful smile. “You will never know how much I appreciate your help.”
They rose to their feet, and she stood with them before they walked toward the door. Just as Mr. Crampton rested his hand on the doorknob, she quickly touched his arm.
“Will you do one more thing for me?” she asked.
“What is that, dear?”
“Please don’t let Broderick know who I am.”
A bright blush covered his face, and his wife’s coloring looked almost identical. Emmie’s heart sank. She knew their answer before they could say anything.
“Forgive me,” Mr. Crampton muttered. “I confronted Broderick last evening, and, well… I did let it slip about your identity. I honestly felt I couldn’t lie to him.”
