“Ithink I’m dreadful. Dreadful and selfish. Oh, not for the jilting—I don’t know what else I could have done there—but I do regret turning my back on Lovell when that shameful mob of wicked London rakes turned his head, for he needed me most then, and we’ve always been dearfriends, Emma.”
“You’re the furthest thing from selfish.” Emma was quiet for a bit as she considered all Flora had told her. There was one thing that didn’t make sense.
Why had Lord Lovell stayed in London for the season? He was madly in love with Flora still—that was plain to see—so why should he wish to stand by and watch while she secured another betrothal? Because she would do, and quickly. Flora was sweet and lovely and kind, and the gentlemen had takennotice of it.
Unless…
“Why, Flora! Lord Lovell is in London for the season to prevent you from becoming betrothed to another gentleman, isn’t he?”
Flora let out a forlorn little laugh. “I think so, yes, but I suspect that was Lord Lymington’s idea,not Lovell’s.”
“Lord Lymington! But why shouldhewish to chase you to London and keep youfrom marrying?”
Lady Flora looked surprised at the question. “Why, for his cousin’s sake, Emma. He’s only ever wanted Lovell to be happy, and I suppose…well, I suppose he thinks Lovell won’t be happy without me.”
“I think Lord Lymington is right.” Emma hadn’t expected to ever have occasion to utterthosewords, but she couldn’t help but think of the sweetness with which Lord Lovell had touched Flora’s cheek that night in Lady Swinton’s garden.
He was as besotted with Flora as she was with him. Indeed, there was nothing standing between the two of them and a rather impressive happily-ever-after, other than…
Well, Emma herself. At least, she hadbeen, at first.
Was that why Lord Lymington had been chasing her away from Lovell with such determination? She’d conjured any number of dark reasons for his behavior, but mightn’t it simply have started because he wanted his cousin to win back the lady he loved, and Emmawas in the way?
She would have said Lord Lymington was the last gentleman in the world to nurture a fledging romance. Was it possible he hid a tender heart under all that gruff ill temper?
The thought made Emma’s chest ache in a way it never had before.
She didn’t like it, really—
“I don’t know how to make a man fall in lovewith me, Emma.”
Emma dragged her attention back to Flora. “I don’t think you need to worry about—”
“Butyouknow how, Emma,” Lady Flora interrupted, as if Emma hadn’t spoken. “Half the gentlemen in London are in love with you. Youwillhelpme, won’t you?”
Emma stared at Flora in shock. If Flora had asked her to seduce Lord Lovell, Emma might have been of some use to her, butlove? What did a courtesan know about love?
Former courtesan, that is.
Still, she didn’t have the first idea how people fell in love, or why.
Or if they ever trulydid so at all.
She’d never seen any evidence of the exalted love described in novels. Desire, yes. Attraction, passion, and lust—those were real enough. She’d seen those things many times, in all their ugliest permutations.
But love—true, unselfish love, like what Lady Flora felt for Lord Lovell? For a long time, Emma hadn’t believed such a thing existed. She’d scoffed at those who believed in pure, selfless love, thinking them tragically naïve.
But then, one by one her friends Sophia, Cecilia, and Georgiana—yes, even rational, practical Georgiana—had fallen head over heels into…well, something that looked very muchlike real love.
That is, it did from the outside looking in, which was as close as Emma would ever get to it. Even if she’d wished for something more, something better, something of her own, it wouldn’t have made any difference.
She was broken inside, her heart disfigured by scars as surely asher hands were.
But the same wasn’t true of Lady Flora. Didn’t a sweet, starry-eyed optimist like Flora deserve her chance at love? And what of Lord Lovell? If he was innocent of the crimes Caroline Francis had accused him of, didn’t he deserve love, too?
Emma thought of the light in Lady Flora’s eyes when Lord Lovell smiled at her as he’d done yesterday in Hyde Park, and then of Lovell himself, with his easy laughter, and the unmistakable joy in his face when he gazed at Flora as they’d wandered besidethe Serpentine.
Emma wouldn’t give up until she’d found justice for Amy, Kitty, and Caroline, but it looked increasingly like Lord Lovell wasn’t the key that would unlock the mysteries of Lymington House.
