Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Lady Emmaline Moreau had always had a head for business—her father had made certain of that—but this latest deal had her most concerned. Having been the one to hear the whispers of a large ship that would be traveling from India with a great deal of valuable cargo on board, Emmaline had suggested their investment to her father.

And having done such a good job of educating her, he trusted her—or perhaps trusted himself—in making the investment that might well be the very thing to see her and her closest stepsister reach the ultimate prize. An advantageous marriage that would see them safe for the rest of their lives.

But the trip from England to India and back again was a mighty long time by ship and Emmaline chomped at the bit so hard she thought her teeth might break.

Much to her stepmother's disappointment, she had bitten down her fingernails to nubs in anticipating the outcome of her investment.

The burden lay heavily upon her. It had most decidedly been her father's wealth and good name placed upon the line, for as an unmarried lady she had nothing to invest. But it was she who had found the opportunity and suggested it to her father. She who had encouraged him to stake his wealth.

If there were to be failure and shame, they would be her own, though their entire family would pay the price for it, and with four step-siblings, and four half-siblings, it would be a high price to pay indeed.

And so, each and every morning, Emmaline found herself outside the giant oaken door of her father's study, lingering in the shadows and unsure of whether or not to disturb him.

"Emm, are you coming to breakfast?" Jane, her younger yet closest stepsister by only eight months, called from the far end of the hallway. She stood close by the door that led to the breakfast room, radiant in a patch of sunlight that shone through the window close by. Oh, how beautiful she was and yet nobody would see her beauty if Emmaline's investment failed. All they would see was the family's ruin.

Emmaline gulped hard.

"I shall be there shortly," she called back, straightening up. Clearly her hiding in the shadows hadn't been successful. Perhaps it was best to hold her head high and get on with it. "I must speak with Papa first."

Jane looked at her with that same look her own mother gave Emmaline, the one that said they were worried yet supportive.

They worried because Emmaline was not the typical lady. Yes, she was lady-like and tried her hardest to always look and act the part, but her father had placed a great deal of ideas in her head. They were ideas that many members of the ton would suggest had no business being there. And that was just what they were about… business. The education her father had given her was not typical of a lady, but she was grateful for it all the same, even if it did cause others to look at her as if she had grown a second head.

"Don't be causing any bother, Emm," Jane warned before disappearing into the breakfast room, where the sounds of her family were already buzzing.

Sebastian and Victor would likely be there with sore heads after a too long a night spent at whichever gentleman's club they had chosen. Her older stepbrothers were rebellious, thanks to the fact they were the sons of a widow and heirs to nothing.

Unlike Emmaline whose birth left her the eldest daughter and sole heir to her father's fortune. At least until her twin half-brothers had come along when she was just eleven years old, only a year after her father had remarried. Since then two more half-sisters had arrived, only making the burden greater.

Her eldest stepsister, Violet had not made matters any easier. She had married after only her first Season out in society, at 19, setting the precedence for Emmaline herself. And with Emm's first Season fast approaching, she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. Not only were her father and stepmother relying on her to continue the family's good fortune, but she had Jane, as well as her two young half-sisters, Elizabeth and Nancy, only two and three, whose future matches could all be determined by the value of her own.

If her investment idea were an utter failure, her family would face ruin, and then who might take her to marry then? She could already imagine the laughter of her older stepsister when she became the disgrace of the family, the only one set to be safe from their shame due to having already been married off.

Bile rose in Emmaline's throat. She did not wish to be married off. This investment had to work for it would bring the necessary funds and reputation for her to marry well, maybe even for her to have her pick, though she hated to think of it in such a way.

Her husband would not be a prize for his wealth or title or what he could offer her, save for one thing. Emmaline wished to marry for the rarest treasure of all—love.

Having spent far too long lingering in the hallway, thinking on all that could go wrong, she stepped up to the door with her fist raised to knock.

But before she could do so, her father called from the study, "Emm, do come in already before you wear out the carpet."

Emmaline could not stop from smiling as she entered the room. "You know me too well, father."

"It is no grand feat when you have been at my study door every morning for the past three weeks," her father pointed out, looking up from behind his spectacles. Leaning back in his chair, he gestured her forward, "Read this for me, would you, my dear? My eyes are not what they used to be."

"Of course, Papa," Emmaline said, hurrying forth. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Her father had asked her to read letters to him before, that was no new thing, but somehow, she couldn't help but wonder if this one might be special. Perhaps it was a report from the India Rose .

Taking the letter from her father, she began to read, disappointed when it turned out to be a friendly correspondence from a distant cousin in the countryside on matters of no real import save the continued good health of a growing family.

Emmaline sighed deeply upon ending the reading and dropped the letter back down in front of her father. With a sad smile, he leaned across the table and took hold of her hand, squeezing gently.

"My dearest Emmaline, I find it best to put thoughts of valuable cargo crossing the ocean from my mind until I have a report in hand," he explained to her softly, meeting her gaze. His large brown eyes were cloudy, and Emmaline could see why he was having trouble reading. He was no young man anymore and it only made Emmaline's anxiety stronger. How could he cope with failure of this magnitude should anything go disastrously wrong?

"How am I to do that when it is all I can think about?" Emmaline asked, squeezing her father's hand in return. How greatly she loved him, even more so now that he had placed his trust in her.

"Do you not have a Season to prepare for?" her father asked. He released her hand and leaned back in his chair. Regarding her with a raised eyebrow, he did not miss the way she cringed. "A young lady your age should be all abuzz with the prospect of such a thing."

Emmaline lowered her deep green eyes at his words, unable to meet his gaze. "I am excited, Papa, but how can I allow myself to think on such things when we have no idea what we truly have to offer?"

The Earl of Monrith was a kind and gentle man when it came to his family, and as such, he rose from his seat and skirted around the desk.

Taking hold of his daughter's hand, he led her to a nearby couch and encouraged her to sit. Dropping down onto the seat beside her, he continued to clutch her hand and when he squeezed quite firmly, Emmaline was forced to meet his gaze once more.

"Emmaline, this investment, should it succeed," her father explained in a tone that only made Emmaline more anxious, "will ensure the dowries are secure for both you and Jane."

"And that is entirely why I am so nervous!" Emmaline blurted in a most unladylike manner. Were he anyone else, Emmaline might have been mortified but this was her father, and they did not keep anything from one another.

Smiling with fatherly affection, Richard took both Emmaline's hands in his and cradled them as he might have cradled her when she was a babe.

"Emmaline, my sweet girl, I apologize to you wholeheartedly for this," he said, sighing deeply.

Taken aback, Emmaline's eyes widened, "Apologize, whatever for? Is there news?"

The earl, chuckling, shook his head. "What I apologize for is the fact you were exceptionally lucky in that you got your mother's beauty but that you have clearly inherited my nature. Your head for business might well even be greater than my own but you do yourself a huge injustice worrying as you do. You ought to be preparing yourself, not troubling yourself with these matters."

Emmaline gulped hard. "I fear I shall never be prepared."

Again, she could not look her father in the eye. She had strived to be a fine, upstanding daughter for his sake and for the sake of the family, and yet at every turn she feared failure.

When her father lifted one hand to cup her chin, she instinctively met his eyes once more. "So long as you know your worth and what it is you are looking for, you shall always be prepared."

His words, though encouraging, were enough to make Emmaline tremble. "What if what I am looking for does not exist?"

She saw how her father's gaze darkened, how he grew concerned. When he dropped his hand from her chin, she wished she hadn't spoken at all.

"What exactly is it that you hope to find, my dearest daughter?"

Emmaline's breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and thought on all the stories she had heard growing up before her father had remarried, the stories that had ceased the moment he brought another woman and her children into their home. But she remembered them still and might recite them from memory if she were asked.

Trembling, she opened her eyes and looked at her father as she admitted, "I wish to find what you and Mama had."

Her father's face paled at her words. She saw the way his Adam's apple jumped, heard how he swallowed.

"What you mean to say, Emmaline, is you wish to marry for love, am I correct?" her father asked, holding her gaze.

Emmaline nodded slowly. She barely dared to breathe. She and her father had rarely talked of such things, especially lately, and so she had no idea what his response might be.

She was surprised when he said, "I can only hope you will have the opportunity to do so, my dear, and I shall do all in my power to make it so but in order to find love, you must be prepared for it."

And with that he stood, pulling her to her feet with him. Emmaline already knew what was coming as he shooed her from his study. "Off with you. Quit your fretting about our investment and focus on what you are able to do in the here and now. Prepare yourself for the ball this evening."

Emmaline, smiling, leaned forward and placed an affectionate kiss upon her father's cheek. "Thank you, Papa."

What she thanked him for she didn't truly know but he did not ask. Instead, he watched her go with a smile.

Almost the second she closed the door behind her again, Emmaline felt the nerves clawing at her insides once more. There was still so much for her to do and yet everything hung in the balance with the success of one shipment determining the fate of an entire family, her family, and she had been the one to set the very thing in motion.