Page 46 of A Game of Hearts

She could feel Lord Limnwood’s presence, though she carefully avoided looking at him. The seating arrangements - which she suspected her aunt had influenced - placed him across and two seats down from her, close enough to be aware of, but too far away for direct conversation.

“I trust that your headache is better, Miss Everton?”

Lord Radmill’s voice drew her attention.

“Much better, thank you.” She managed a serene smile. “Though I fear that I missed some fascinating botanical drawings this morning.”

“Oh yes!” Lady Anne’s voice took on that satisfied tone which Emma was beginning to hate. “Some of us made the most interesting discoveries in the conservatory. Didn’t we, Miss Morton?”

Emma saw Lord James’ head lift sharply at that. Something passed between him and Lady Agatha - the barest exchange of glances.

“Speaking of discoveries,” Lord James’ voice carried that perfect aristocratic tone that somehow commanded attention, “I had the most illuminating morning. It’s fascinating what one can learn about people’s true characters when they believe themselves unobserved.”

Lady Anne’s soup spoon clattered against her bowl.

“Indeed?” The Duke looked interested. “Do tell us more, Lord James.”

“Well, you see, I was sketching orange blossoms – and it’s a remarkable thing, the acoustics in that part of the conservatory...” Emma saw Lady Anne go rigid, her face draining of colour. Beside her, Miss Morton seemed to shrink in her chair. “One hears the most remarkable conversations there,” James continued pleasantly. “About careful plans, and forged notes, and how easily certain people can be manipulated. Particularly, it seems, those who pride themselves on propriety.”

The silence that fell was absolute. Emma’s breath caught as understanding dawned. She dared a glance at Lord Limnwood and found him staring at Lady Anne, his expression thunderous.

“I’m sure that I don’t know what you mean.” Lady Anne’s voice shook slightly. “Really, Lord James, to suggest...”

“Oh, I suggest nothing.” Lord James’ smile was razor sharp. “I merely repeat what I heard. Your own words, in fact, about how satisfying it was to see your schemes succeed. Though you did mention being somewhat disappointed at how easily my brother believed the worst. What was it you said? Ah yes - ‘one staged scene was all it took’.”

Emma’s hands clenched in her lap as the full import of his words registered. It was as she had suspected, Lady Anne had arranged everything - the notes, the discovery, all of it carefully planned to create exactly the scene she desired.

“This is outrageous!” Lady Anne pushed back her chair. “I will not sit here and listen to such accusations!”

“Not accusations, my dear.” Lady Agatha’s voice was all icy civility. “Merely a repetition of your own words. Though I must say, they sound rather different when spoken before the entire company than they did in what you thought was privacy.”

“I...” Lady Anne looked wildly around the table, finding no sympathy in any face. “Miss Morton, surely you...”

But Miss Morton, it seemed, had some sense of self-preservation. She kept her eyes firmly on her plate. The Duke cleared his throat.

“Lady Anne, I believe that your father’s carriage is still at your disposal. Perhaps it might be best if you were to make use of it. Tonight.”

The dismissal was clear. Lady Anne rose, her face now flaming with humiliation. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then clearly thought better of it. With one final glare at the assembled company, she swept from the room. In the silence that followed, Emma felt rather than saw Lord Limnwood’s eyes turn to her. She kept her gaze carefully on her soup, though her appetite had quite deserted her.

“Well,” the Duke said cheerfully, “shall we have the fish course? I believe that Cook has prepared something quite special.”

Emma escaped to the terrace as soon as propriety allowed. The evening air held a hint of spring, despite February’s lingering chill, and she needed its freshness after the stifling atmosphere of the dining room. Her mind whirled with Lord James’ revelations, with the knowledge that Lady Anne truly had orchestrated everything. A step behind her made her spine stiffen. She didn’t need to turn to know who approached - she would know his presence anywhere.

“Miss Everton.” Lord Limnwood’s voice was rough with emotion. “I hardly know how to begin.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t.” The words emerged sharply, brittle and harsh. She forced herself to turn, to face him. “Lady Anne’s schemes may explain the situation, my Lord, but they do not excuse your immediate assumption of the worst.”

He flinched as if struck.

“No. They do not.” He moved to the balustrade, keeping careful distance between them. “I could say that I was prompted by past experience, by having seen scandal destroy reputations before. But the truth is simpler and far worse - I failed to trust in your character, in the understanding growing between us.”

Emma’s hands clenched on her fan.

“In what was growing between us? You mean the trust that we were building, the feelings which we were just beginning to acknowledge? The same feelings that you so readily dismissed at the first hint of impropriety?”

“Emma.” The raw pain in his voice made her breath catch. “I have been the worst kind of fool. My fear of scandal, my rigid adherence to propriety - they made me forget everything that matters. Made me hurt the two people I should have trusted most in all the world.”

“And you did exactly what Lady Anne expected. You saw what she arranged for you to see, and you never once considered that there might be another explanation. Never once asked for the truth.”