Emmie breathed deeply, her hopes dropping by the second. “Was he very upset that I had lied to him?”
“Yes, but I think if you explain things, he will understand.”
“I will.” She nodded. “Thank you again for everything.”
Mrs. Crampton grasped Emmie’s hands. “We will leave to go see your mother at two o’clock this afternoon. Do you need me to help you get ready?”
Emmie forced a laugh. “No. I shall have Anna assist me.”
“Anna?” the Cramptons asked in unison.
“Yes, my maid—the one who has been playing the part of Lady Sarah since we came to stay with you.”
“Then I shall make certain Rebecca has her back soon.”
As Emmie watched the Cramptons walk down the stairs, her heart wrenched with the thought of confronting Broderick. Although she wanted to talk to him to explain why she’d lied, she couldn’t worry about that now.
Tomorrow would be soon enough.
Chapter Eighteen
Emmie paced thehallway just outside Mrs. Winterbourne’s parlor door, half insane from the wait. Mr. and Mrs. Crampton were in that room talking aboutherwith her mother. Emmie’s legs shook, and she flexed her fingers, impatient for the moment that the door would open, and she would be invited inside.
It surprised her that Mrs. Winterbourne’s servants hadn’t bothered her, and nor had the widow herself. But that was all right, because Emmie didn’t want to explain who she was. Introductions would come later.
Pausing by the door, she breathed deeply and smoothed her hands down her dress. For today’s visit, she had chosen to wear the same blue-mint velvet dress, with the black lace over-bodice, that Georgia had given her. Would her mother recognize it from her sister’s collection? Emmie shrugged. Probably not.
She took a deep breath and slowly released it as she pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear something, anything, that would calm her jittery nerves right now.
Mr. Crampton’s voice boomed through the room. From what she could gather, he was discussing last night’s dinner party at Mr. Goodfellow’s house.
Then she heard the loveliest voice, sweet and tender.Mother.Tears collected in Emmie’s eyes, and her throat grew dry. Feelings she hadn’t experienced before blossomed in her chest,and she craved the moment she would be in her mother’s embrace.
“Daphne,” Mr. Crampton said, “there is something I must tell you, but I have avoided doing so thus far in our conversation.”
“Why, Henry? What is it about?”
He cleared his throat. “As I mentioned earlier, it was quite a shock to discover you are alive when fifteen years ago we heard your ship had been attacked by a fearsome pirate. Anyway, I’m here to tell you that there have been others who thought you were dead, too.”
“Henry, this is all such a shock to me. But my family knew the truth.”
“Well… um, notallof them. There are a few family members who still thought you had died.”
There was a pause, and Emmie held her breath.
“What do you mean by that, Henry?”
“Well, you see… um… As miraculous as it sounds, um…” He cleared his throat again.
“Henry,” Mrs. Crampton interrupted. “Why don’t we just bring her in?”
“Uh, yes. Splendid idea,” Henry answered.
Emmie’s heart nearly knocked right out of her bosom. Her hands were cold, yet sweaty at the same time. And she feared her legs would not be able to hold her up much longer. She took two steps away from the door, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin, preparing herself for when the door would open.
Finally, it did, and Mrs. Crampton smiled as she motioned for Emmie to enter. On shaky legs, she walked the best she could into the room. When she rested her gaze on her mother, a knot of emotion caught in her throat, and immediately, her eyes watered. Never had she seen a lovelier woman. Dressed in a silver and white gown, the older woman had her hair tucked up neatly into a white cap, but her grayish-brown hair still showedaround her forehead. Big, blue, wondrous eyes watched Emmie carefully.
Then her mother’s eyes widened, and her face paled slightly. She ran her gaze over Emmie, from the top of her ringlet hair all the way down to her heeled shoes. When her mother’s attention landed on Emmie’s eyes again, they, too, were watery.
