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Authors: Christy Graham Parker
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the children, but while it might have fooled them, Bess and Laura knew the truth. Friends that they were, they didn’t say anything. They simply held her while she sobbed uncontrollably after one of the boys asked her if the prince would be coming.
While getting ready for the ball, she forced herself to conjure up the iron will that had sustained her over the last five years. You’ve had your crying fit. Now is the time to show everyone what you’re made of.
Though her parents were with her, she felt completely alone enter ing the crowded ballroom. She gazed over the people and felt both relieved and saddened all at once. With so many in attendance, it might be impossible to locate Henry.
Greenery lined the banisters and had been twisted along the staircase. Around her, conversations buzzed like the simple hum of bees. Happy voices. Cheerful. She straightened her back. I can do this.
Would it be possible to not only see Henry, but talk to him as well ? How would she be able to speak easily with the man who should have been hers? For though he had said he would work everything out, as the days came and went with no word, she had accepted the truth. Lady Elizabeth would be the Duchess of Salle. Henry would be Lady Elizabeth’s .
Emma would fade away to become nothing but a memory of someone who once was. If she were lucky, he would smile when he thought of her. Maybe one day she would think of him and smile instead of tearing up.
Was it her imagination or were people staring at her? She glanced to her left to where a group of debutants stood. They quickly looked away from her. No. It wasn’t her imagination .
She’d thought to be over caring about the whispers and curious glances of the ton . Apparently, she wasn’t. Still, it wasn’t possible to be angry with Henry. It really wasn’t his fault. That honor belonged to Lady Elizabeth.
Who didn’t appear to have arrived yet.
All at once the noise level dropped. And surely it couldn’t be her imagination that everyone in the ballroom looked from her to the entranceway and back again. H er cheeks heat ed and she told herself not look to see who it was that had just arrived.
But she hadn’t seen him in d ays and of course it would be he , wouldn’t it?
She turned, bracing herself to see him again, steeling herself in case it was Elizabeth, and telling herself it didn’t matter one way or another.
Please let it be he , her heart whispered.
Their eyes met and she smiled.
Henry.
Emma took in the sight of him piece by piece. He looked so handsome. His eyes sparkled and danced in the muted light. The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile.
He was alone and looked far too happy for a man tricked into marriage.
The crowd silently parted as he entered.
As he passed them and walked toward her, they began whispering again.
She fluttered her fan. It was much too warm for December.
Twenty more seconds and he stood before her, bowing.
“Lady Emmaline.”
She curtsied. “Your g race.”
His face lit in amusement, almost as if he teased her. But how could that be when he was engaged to another?
“I feared you wouldn’t come,” he said.
“I decided I rather enjoyed being around people again,” she said. “And decided not to hide in my house like I did last time.”
“I’m proud of you. Such tenacity will serve you well.”
“As a spinster? ”
“As a duchess.”
She had to have heard him wrong. It had to be her imagination.
“Where is Lady Elizabeth?”
“I care not.”
“Henry, you must know there’s nothing to be done. I understand. Truly. You must do what is right.”
“I did.”
“Then I wish you every happiness.”
“There is no happiness apart from you.”
She smiled. The words were good to hear. Perhaps they would bring her joy in the years to come.
“You’re a dear, truly, and I have no doubt you will make a good husband.”
“I’m glad you think so. Every wife should think that of her husband.”
“I fear I
While getting ready for the ball, she forced herself to conjure up the iron will that had sustained her over the last five years. You’ve had your crying fit. Now is the time to show everyone what you’re made of.
Though her parents were with her, she felt completely alone enter ing the crowded ballroom. She gazed over the people and felt both relieved and saddened all at once. With so many in attendance, it might be impossible to locate Henry.
Greenery lined the banisters and had been twisted along the staircase. Around her, conversations buzzed like the simple hum of bees. Happy voices. Cheerful. She straightened her back. I can do this.
Would it be possible to not only see Henry, but talk to him as well ? How would she be able to speak easily with the man who should have been hers? For though he had said he would work everything out, as the days came and went with no word, she had accepted the truth. Lady Elizabeth would be the Duchess of Salle. Henry would be Lady Elizabeth’s .
Emma would fade away to become nothing but a memory of someone who once was. If she were lucky, he would smile when he thought of her. Maybe one day she would think of him and smile instead of tearing up.
Was it her imagination or were people staring at her? She glanced to her left to where a group of debutants stood. They quickly looked away from her. No. It wasn’t her imagination .
She’d thought to be over caring about the whispers and curious glances of the ton . Apparently, she wasn’t. Still, it wasn’t possible to be angry with Henry. It really wasn’t his fault. That honor belonged to Lady Elizabeth.
Who didn’t appear to have arrived yet.
All at once the noise level dropped. And surely it couldn’t be her imagination that everyone in the ballroom looked from her to the entranceway and back again. H er cheeks heat ed and she told herself not look to see who it was that had just arrived.
But she hadn’t seen him in d ays and of course it would be he , wouldn’t it?
She turned, bracing herself to see him again, steeling herself in case it was Elizabeth, and telling herself it didn’t matter one way or another.
Please let it be he , her heart whispered.
Their eyes met and she smiled.
Henry.
Emma took in the sight of him piece by piece. He looked so handsome. His eyes sparkled and danced in the muted light. The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile.
He was alone and looked far too happy for a man tricked into marriage.
The crowd silently parted as he entered.
As he passed them and walked toward her, they began whispering again.
She fluttered her fan. It was much too warm for December.
Twenty more seconds and he stood before her, bowing.
“Lady Emmaline.”
She curtsied. “Your g race.”
His face lit in amusement, almost as if he teased her. But how could that be when he was engaged to another?
“I feared you wouldn’t come,” he said.
“I decided I rather enjoyed being around people again,” she said. “And decided not to hide in my house like I did last time.”
“I’m proud of you. Such tenacity will serve you well.”
“As a spinster? ”
“As a duchess.”
She had to have heard him wrong. It had to be her imagination.
“Where is Lady Elizabeth?”
“I care not.”
“Henry, you must know there’s nothing to be done. I understand. Truly. You must do what is right.”
“I did.”
“Then I wish you every happiness.”
“There is no happiness apart from you.”
She smiled. The words were good to hear. Perhaps they would bring her joy in the years to come.
“You’re a dear, truly, and I have no doubt you will make a good husband.”
“I’m glad you think so. Every wife should think that of her husband.”
“I fear I
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