Chapter Twelve

"If I never have to greet another stranger again, it will be too soon." Emma groaned, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes. It had been three days straight of introductions and small-talk, with no sign of letting up. "I thought visitors were supposed to stop by unannounced only during your at-home day."

Tabitha pursed her lips, fighting a smile as she leaned against her husband's arm. They made quite a pretty picture, sharing the sofa with their hands clasped together. "Alvaro has never followed the rules," she said with a yawn. Clearly, she was just as exhausted from hosting as Emma was. "For us, every day in London is an at-home day."

"Unless we are not actually at home," Alvaro threw in with a wink.

Emma couldn't help but smile. She was friendly, and she truly enjoyed interacting with people, but no one socialized like Alvaro Rowland. Everyone had come to welcome Lord Harstone back to London, and he had given each the same bright smile and warm greeting. He treated them all like old friends, no matter their status, and Emma wondered if he truly did consider them all friends.

"Well," she said, glancing toward the door as if someone might walk through it. At this point, anyone else would push her past her limit. "If it is agreeable to you, I think I will take a walk."

She wasn't as lucky as Miss Barton, who had received a letter an hour ago and excitedly disappeared to read it rather than remain to greet all the visitors.

Tabitha yawned again, dropping her head onto her husband's shoulder. "I think that is a lovely idea. Grayson?"

The butler stepped into the room. "Yes, my lady?"

"We are no longer at home. I think I would like to spend the rest of the afternoon with the girls."

"Yes, my lady." Grayson left with a small smile, clearly accustomed to the unorthodoxy that was Lord and Lady Harstone.

"You'll take your maid with you?" Tabitha asked Emma as she rose, Alvaro right behind her.

Emma fought back a laugh. She knew as well as anyone that wandering the city on her own was far from proper, though she was certain she could look after herself if she did so. "You think I would do something scandalous?"

Tabitha shook her head. "The only reason you brought Mr. Drake with you everywhere you went in Tutbury was because Grandfather required it, and I have a feeling you spent a good deal of time on your own regardless of his wishes."

"You could never prove it," Emma countered with a grin. "Do not fret, Tabitha. I'll bring Jenny with me. Although, finding myself alone with a gentleman could be a fantastic way to catch myself a husband."

"Unless that gentleman is a good-tempered duke with vast wealth, I do not recommend that course of action," Alvaro said with a chuckle. "And I guarantee there are none of those in London this time of year."

Emma grinned. "How unfortunate."

"We will find you someone worthy of you," Tabitha assured her, and then she and Alvaro slipped from the parlor.

"I doubt that," Emma muttered, rising to seek out her maid. "I doubt there is a man in existence who could tempt me into matrimony."

By the time Jenny helped her dress and they were on their way to Hyde Park, it was the peak of the fashionable hour. Though nothing compared to when Emma had been here during her Season three and a half years previous, a good number of people still walked about along the Serpentine, dodging horses and conveyances and forming little groups of acquaintances.

Emma paused at the park entrance, questioning her decision to come to this park at this time of day. "Perhaps we should walk elsewhere," she said, tugging lightly on the ties of her bonnet.

Jenny flinched as a gig passed close to them. She'd spent her whole life in the country and had likely never seen this many people at once. "Oh, but this is so exciting, miss," she said, her voice wobbling.

Emma laughed. "You do not have to pretend you are excited for my sake."

"I am excited! Maybe a bit nervous, but... if my mama could see where I am, she'd be right jealous."

"I'm more jealous of your mama." Emma pursed her lips, trying to decide whether a walk in the park was even worth it. No one here knew her except those who had come to Harstone House, as it had been several years since she was last in Town and she doubted she had made a lasting impression. But would that make her an object of interest or someone to be ignored? Social niceties would require an introduction if she wanted to speak to anyone, which would make it easier to blend in and walk in peace, but— "Oh drat."

Emma spun in a half circle, turning her back to the busy park, but she had a feeling she had not hidden her face quickly enough. No, she knew she hadn't, because Forester's smile had grown the moment they'd made eye contact. Of course he was out during the fashionable hour. Of course he would ruin her day with his nonstop falsehoods and insults. Of course he would look even more handsome out in the sunshine, his hair turning to the color of burnished gold.

"Ah, Miss Mackenzie, I thought that was you beneath that lovely blue bonnet. I was beginning to think you had gone back home."

Gritting her teeth, Emma counted to five before she turned and flashed a smile. Why had she chosen to wear the bonnet he had encouraged her to buy in Tutbury? "It has been a few days," she agreed.

Forester bowed far more deeply than necessary. "Too long."

"Not long enough," she growled back under her breath.

She hadn't been too overwhelmed with visitors to note the fact that she hadn't seen Mr. Forester since the musicale earlier in the week. It hadn't helped that every new acquaintance said something about the man. Emma had done her best to paint him in as poor a light as she could to dissuade ladies from considering him, but even when she spoke absolute lies, no one was surprised. It seemed Nick Forester had done and seen everything a man could possibly do, his own tall tales setting him up as a paragon among London Society.

It was as if he couldn't be touched.

Forcing herself to keep smiling, Emma glanced at the man she had only just noticed standing a pace behind Forester. "It seems you have neglected your friend," she said with a nod.

The gentleman turned a deep shade of red, his eyes fixed on the shiny points of his boots.

Laughter painted Forester's voice with amusement as he said, "Forgive me, Miss Mackenzie. I would like to introduce Sir Thomas Morland. Sir Thomas, Miss Emma Mackenzie, Lord Harstone's sister-in-law."

That perked the man right up, his head lifting as soon as Forester mentioned Alvaro. "Lady Harstone's sister, you say?"

Emma wanted so badly to laugh at the unhidden interest, but she held it back. She didn't want to be rude. Not toward anyone but Mr. Forester, anyway. He looked far too smug to be unaware of what influence her relations would have on any admirers she might come across. She would never hold their interest for long—at least, they would never hold her interest—but the Harstone name always drew them in.

And she couldn't fathom why Forester would encourage anyone to pursue her unless he had no idea that she was under the same marriage requirement that he was—a requirement Emma still hoped would disappear as soon as she came of age. She intended to keep Forester unaware of the stipulation, else he would likely take advantage of it just as she was doing with him.

"Yes, she is my sister," Emma said, dipping into a curtsy. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Thomas." She didn't have Forester's innate talent for lying—she was genuinely amazed that anyone had believed her as she'd spun stories about him—but at least the gentleman didn't seem to notice her disinterest. "How are you acquainted with Mr. Forester?"

He blinked once. Twice. Three times, so evenly spaced out that it was as if he counted the seconds between each blink. "Oh, Forester and I are not—"

"We are new acquaintances," Forester cut in, clapping Sir Thomas on the back. "He heard about my expedition to India two summers ago and simply had to know more."

What a load of nonsense! "India?" she replied, faking curiosity. "Was that before or after your great-uncle shot you in the leg?"

His eyes—such a bright blue—practically sparkled as he gazed at her. "Someone has been talking about me behind my back," he accused, though it seemed to delight more than worry him. "You know it is unwise to listen to gossip, yes?"

"Shouldn't you be off finding yourself a wife?" Emma asked, eager to return to the town house and spend some time in the library. Even a room by herself was better than being around Nicholas Forester. "I do not think Sir Thomas can fill that role, nor would he want to were he a woman."

Sir Thomas spluttered, turning red again.

Forester laughed, shaking his head with a grin instead of looking like he felt the censure she had intended. "Oh, there are many ways to find oneself a partner," he said, turning his smile to Sir Thomas. "Sir Thomas was just telling me how much he desires to meet more eligible women, and I thought to teach him my ways."

Emma let out a single laugh. "I suggest looking elsewhere for assistance, Sir Thomas. Mr. Forester has been searching for a wife for years and has yet to be successful. I do not think that speaks much to his credit."

His eyes sparkling, Forester threw an arm around the obviously uncomfortable Sir Thomas, who stood as still as a statue. "Ah, but see, you cannot find anyone more qualified than me to tell you what not to look for in a wife! I have seen it all, my good man, so never fear. We'll find you someone in no time."

"Have you taken up matchmaking for others now that you have realized you are incapable of finding a match for yourself, Mr. Forester?" Emma asked, lifting an eyebrow. "How generous of you."

"Perhaps I have already found myself a wife."

Emma's heart stumbled in her chest, though surely she would have heard a rumor about that over the last few days. Nicholas Forester settling down would hardly go unnoticed. "But you haven't," she guessed, trying to sound confident rather than questioning.

Rather than responding, Forester tightened his hold on Sir Thomas as he said, "Sir Thomas only recently became a baronet," as if Emma had any desire to know more about the man who seemed content to be spoken over rather than hold his own in the conversation. He had spoken fewer than a dozen words thus far, despite being the subject of conversation. "His poor father succumbed to illness only last year," Forester continued. "One would hardly guess it, seeing how confidently the new Baronet Morland has managed the estate in his absence. I daresay no lands in Devon are finer."

"Dorset," Sir Thomas mumbled.

"Yes, that is what I said. Miss Mackenzie, I believe they may rival your grandfather's lands."

As Forester leaned in to whisper something to Sir Thomas, Emma clenched her hands into fists, recognizing the challenge for what it was. Or perhaps Mr. Forester simply wanted to remind her of the reason she had made a mad dash for London in the first place, and it was not to have a leisurely walk in solitude. No, she needed to stop letting this man control every situation and start doing more to undermine his attempts to steal what was hers.

"I am pleased to hear your lands are doing well, Sir Thomas," she said, then dipped into a curtsy. She had a plan to make. "If you will excuse me, I—"

"Will I see you at Almack's this week?" Sir Thomas said far more loudly than necessary. Several people looked their way in interest, causing heat to burn in Emma's cheeks.

Almack's? Even during her Season she hadn't set foot in the exclusive social club, never having garnered an invitation. She hadn't wanted one to begin with, so she had asked Alvaro not to secure her one. "Oh," she said, fumbling with her reticule. "I don't—"

"Of course she will be there!" Forester announced, clearly intending for as many people to hear as possible as his clear voice rang out over the park. "I guarantee Miss Mackenzie is sure to be at all the best events this autumn, as she is always eager to be the center of attention."

Oh, Emma wanted to slap the man! Perhaps at home, where she was comfortable with all the people, she enjoyed being a source of amusement. But this was London, where a single misstep could turn an idol into a pariah with one well-placed whisper. Forester likely knew this better than anyone, and he was showing his advantage. In Staffordshire Emma had had the upper hand, but now he had the high ground.

But if he thought one little challenge would be enough to send her running back home, he had seriously underestimated her drive to win.

"Yes," she said, putting on a smile that made Sir Thomas blush. "Barring any unfortunate incidents, I will be there. Good afternoon, gentlemen."

Just as she turned to leave, Forester did something wholly unexpected. He stepped to the side, looking beyond Emma and catching the attention of Jenny.

"Ensure your lady wears blue that evening," he said, and then his eyes traveled over Emma, from her head to her toes, before resting on her face. "While she looks marvelous in anything, blue is her best color. Good day to you, Miss Mackenzie." With a tip of his hat, he led Sir Thomas back the way they'd come.

And Emma stood there, confused by the heat that spotted her cheeks even after he was out of sight.