your stay in Bath?’
Emma frowned. Aunt Dorothy was still here? ‘Not exactly, but I dare say you’ll be hearing why from one of your nieces in the not-too-distant future. But what are you still doing here, Aunt?’ she asked, climbing down from the carriage. ‘I thought you were to have gone back to London weeks ago.’
‘That was my intention, but there have been some interesting developments while you’ve been away and your father asked me if I would stay on a little longer.’
Developments? Emma wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. ‘What kind of developments?’
‘You’ll see. Your father is waiting for you in his study.’
Emma paused, arrested by the expression on the older woman’s face. ‘Aunt Dorothy, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. What has been going on?’
‘I would love to tell you, my dear, but your father insists on giving you the news himself. But once he has, come to us in the drawing room and we will tell you all the things he has most likely forgotten.’
Emma didn’t miss her aunt’s use of the words us and we. ‘Has this something to do with Linette?’
‘It has, but more than that I dare not say.’ She kissed Emma fondly on the cheek, smelling vaguely of sherry and peppermint, and then turned to lead the way into the house. Emma followed, wondering what could have happened to warrant such an inexplicable turn of events. Aunt Dorothy was not fond of country living. She only came to stay with them twice a year, saying it was the least she could do for her poor widowed brother and his three motherless children, but Emma knew she counted the days until she could return to London again.
What kind of ‘development’ could have prompted her to stay on, and to look as though there was nowhere else she would rather be?
‘Linette is engaged?’ Emma repeated after her father gave her the news. ‘To whom?’
‘Can you not guess?’
‘In truth I cannot. The only gentleman of whom she has spoken with any affection is Mr Taylor, but I cannot imagine that he …’ Emma stopped. ‘Never tell me he has proposed.’
‘Yes, and very sweetly, according to your sister.’
‘But … the youngest son of the Earl of Widdicombe? Why on earth would he propose to Linette?’
‘For all the usual reasons, I suppose. Apparently he is head over heels in love with the girl and cannot imagine life without her.’
‘Good Lord.’ Emma sat down in the nearest chair. ‘Did he really say that?’
‘He did, and naturally your sister is over the moon. There is to be a ball held in a few weeks’ time to celebrate their betrothal.’
Emma’s eyes widened. ‘Not here!’
‘Good Lord, no, we are not nearly grand enough. The festivities are to take place at Ellingsworth Hall. I believe Lady Widdicombe is coming down to oversee the arrangements. That’s why I asked Dorothy to stay on. I thought it might be helpful for Linette to have an older woman to talk to. One who has … experience of marriage and would be able to offer advice in that regard. You understand.’
Oh, yes, Emma understood. Educating a young girl as to the ‘expectations’ of marriage was a job that usually fell to the mother or married older sister; but in the absence of both, her father had obviously decided that his widowed sister was the best person for the job.
Pity, Emma reflected drily. If her father had wanted his youngest daughter to learn about the expectations of marriage, he should have sent her to Bath. Linette would have learned a great deal more there than she had by staying here.
‘When did all this happen?’ Emma asked. ‘I’ve only been gone three weeks.’
‘The proposal was offered a few days after you left.’
‘And no one wrote to tell me about it?’
Her father had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘We thought it best not to. We knew you would wish to come home at once and Dorothy felt it better that you stayed with Gussie.’ He tugged at his ear, a sure sign of his discomfort. ‘I understand she is having some … family issues.’
‘You could say that,’ Emma muttered, not about to go into the details. ‘Have you heard anything from Lord and Lady Widdicombe?’
‘Not yet. They are in London and no doubt very busy with the Season. But I expect I will be hearing from his lordship quite soon.’
‘I wonder what they think of this engagement,’ Emma mused. ‘Linette is the sweetest girl in the world, but the disparity between her social standing and Mr Taylor’s cannot be denied. I would have thought it an insurmountable barrier to marriage.’
‘As would I,’ her father agreed. ‘But young Mr Taylor doesn’t seem to mind and there is nothing one can object to in Linette. She is as lovely as a spring day and as sweet as custard pie, although perhaps a trifle naïve.’
A great deal naïve, Emma was tempted to say. There was a world of difference between life at Dove’s Hollow and the role she would be expected to fulfil as mistress of Ellingsworth Hall. Linette had never been exposed to society before. She had been to London once and had seemed happy enough to leave it. Her only social interactions since then had been at the local assemblies and dances that were held in the village of Little Moreton.
What a turnabout now to find her engaged to one of the most eligible bachelors in the county!
‘I hope she knows what she is doing,’ Emma murmured. ‘I love Linette with all my heart, but she is a hopeless romantic and tends towards impulsive behaviour. What seems like a good idea one day is positively the worst the next, with scarcely a breath in between.’
‘I know, and only time will tell how genuinely happy the two of them will be,’ her father said. ‘But you will have an opportunity to see for yourself tomorrow evening.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘We have been invited to dine at Ellingsworth Hall. Just a small gathering of the immediate family. Your aunt will have all the details. In fact, you had best run along now, my dear, I’m sure she and your sister are at sixes and sevens waiting to tell you all about it.’
‘Yes, I’m sure they are.’ Emma managed a smile as she slowly got to her feet. ‘Imagine, our little Linette engaged to the son of an earl. It is a tremendous match for her.’
‘Yes, though considerably less so for him. But they are not wed yet.’
‘Do you think one of them will cry off?’
‘My dear, when it comes to matters of the heart, I have learned that nothing is impossible.’ Her father retired to the comfort of his favourite chair beneath which Rory and Ranger slept and picked up one of his books. ‘A burning passion can be doused with a few ill-chosen words and undying love can, in fact, die a quick and painful death. Nothing is as fickle as love. We would all do well to remember that.’
For the next hour, Emma was treated to a complete and extensive
