Page 42 of A Game of Hearts

Susan’s expression softened with sympathy, but she maintained the fiction of ignorance.

“Cook sent up her special tea for megrims. And Lady Agatha said to tell you that the morning’s activity is botanical drawing - nothing that absolutely requires your presence.” Emma nodded, relieved. Botanical drawing would keep everyone occupied in the conservatory, well away from her chamber. She could maintain her dignified retreat without causing comment. “Will there be anything else, Miss?”

“No, thank you.” Emma managed a small smile for the maid’s obvious concern. “Though... if anyone asks...”

“You’re resting quietly, Miss, and not to be disturbed.” Susan’s chin lifted slightly. “And if certain persons should try to send notes or messages, I’ll be sure to tell them you’re sleeping.”

Emma’s smile became more genuine. Trust Susan to understand without being told.

“Thank you.”

Left alone, she picked at her breakfast, remembering yesterday morning’s joy. Had it really been only yesterday that she and Nathaniel had shared that moment in the woods, that kiss that had seemed to promise so much more? It felt like a lifetime ago. Like something that had happened to someone else entirely.

A burst of laughter from the garden below drew her to the window. She peered carefully around the curtain, watching the house party guests make their way to the conservatory. Lady Anne walked with Lord Radmill, her expression supremely satisfied. The sight made Emma’s stomach clench.

What tales were already circulating about yesterday’s events in the library? What subtle poison was Lady Anne spreading among the guests?

Movement near the house caught her eye. Lord Limnwood emerged, his usual straight-backed military bearing somehow diminished. Even from this distance, she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way that he held himself apart from the general conversation.

Good, some uncharitable part of her thought. Let him feel some fraction of the discomfort that he had caused her.

But even as the thought formed, her traitorous heart ached at his obvious distress.

She stepped back from the window, angry with herself for still caring about his feelings when he had so comprehensively demonstrated his lack of trust in her.

*****

James had noted Lady Anne’s growing satisfaction throughout the morning’s botanical drawing session. Her smug glances towards his brother, her whispered conversations with Miss Morton - it all spoke of someone enjoying the fruits of their schemes rather too openly.

So when she and Miss Morton slipped away from the main group, heading towards the smaller connecting greenhouse, James found himself following at a discrete distance. The connecting greenhouse’s design created interesting acoustics - something he had discovered during previous house parties at Pelham Hall.

Sound carried remarkably well from certain spots to others.

He positioned himself near a large orange tree, apparently absorbed in sketching its blossoms. Lady Anne and Miss Morton settled on the far side of a towering palm, clearly believing themselves private.

“Really, Anne,” Miss Morton’s voice carried clearly, “it worked out even better than you planned. Though I was terrified when Lady Agatha appeared - I thought for certain...”

“Oh, that hardly matters now.” Lady Anne’s satisfaction dripped from every word. “The damage is done. Lord Limnwood showed his true nature – he was so quick to believe the worst! Though I confess, I’m a little disappointed. After watching them grow so close, and seeing that kiss in the garden...” Lady Anne’s satisfaction dripped from every word. “I thought I might need more evidence, more careful manipulation. But no - one staged scene was all it took. Men who pride themselves on propriety are so very easy to manage, especially when they’re fighting their own feelings.”

James’ pencil stilled. He hardly dared breathe for fear of missing a word.

“But surely, given that Lady Agatha witnessed...”

“What can she prove?” Lady Anne laughed softly. “That she was present? That means nothing. The scene played out exactly as I had intended - Miss Everton’s reputation is tarnished, Lord Limnwood’s trust in her is shattered. He’ll have to look elsewhere for a suitable wife now.”

“To you, you mean?”

Miss Morton’s tone held a trace of envy.

“Naturally. Though I confess, his quick condemnation of Miss Everton was almost disappointing. I must hope that I can capture his affections more thoroughly than she obviously had – I would not want to be so easily disregarded myself!”

James had heard enough. He moved away carefully, his mind racing. Here was everything they needed - proof of her scheming, her own admission of staging the scene.

But how best to use it? A slow smile spread across his face as he considered the possibilities. The dinner table tonight would provide the perfect setting for Lady Anne’s schemes to unravel - with the entire house party present to witness it.

He needed to speak with Lady Agatha immediately. Together, they could ensure that Lady Anne’s carefully laid plans rebounded upon her own head.

And perhaps, finally, his fool of a brother might have a chance to make things right with Miss Everton.