Chapter Eighteen

There was nothing quite so fulfilling as spending an afternoon with Tabitha's children, who had bounced back from their illness with remarkable resilience. The girls didn't care about fortunes or marriage or which man would bring the most notoriety to a match. They treated each other with fairness, most of the time, and were quick to praise and show their love and appreciation. Playing with dolls with her nieces had filled Emma's capacity to still see good in the world, and that was the only reason she had agreed to attend a dinner party with her sister and Alvaro.

That hadn't stopped her from trying to remain at home, however.

"Oh, but Lady Wilmore is a dear friend of mine. I am certain you will have a far better time than you're expecting." Tabitha had been making arguments for the last twenty minutes, unwilling to yield.

Emma scoffed as she held up another gown for Tabitha to judge. "I have yet to enjoy any social function in London thus far. What makes you think this will be any different?"

"Because you have only been to more public gatherings, and this will be a much quieter affair." Tabitha held the dress up against her body, studying herself in the mirror. "And Lady Wilmore has the best taste. No, I think the blue one will do for tonight."

Her lady's maid immediately began assisting her into the chosen gown with a satisfied smile.

Emma knew she likely wouldn't win this argument, so she should probably go call Jenny to help her dress, but that felt too much like admitting defeat. Besides, she had planned to wear a blue dress again, and now she would have to choose something different so she and Tabitha did not look too alike.

Then again, what did it matter what she wore? She hadn't even liked any of her blue dresses until...

Until Nick Forester told her it was her color.

Cheeks pinking, Emma cleared her throat and tried one more fruitless argument. "Surely you and Alvaro want more time to recover instead of escorting Miss Barton and—"

"Miss Barton has decided to remain at home this evening. It seems she has fallen behind on some correspondence."

Even if it made her seem juvenile, Emma still whined a bit as she said, "Why is Miss Barton allowed to remain at home while I am forced to go out?"

Tabitha laughed. "When did you become such a homebody? You hardly ever stay home when we're in Tutbury. Grandfather likely forgets you live with him because you are never there."

"You exaggerate."

"You are an overwhelmingly social person, Emma. Is something wrong? Why wouldn't you want to go out and meet more people?"

Sighing, Emma tried to find an explanation that would make sense. She could hardly tell her sister the real reason she didn't want to attend this dinner. Namely, because Nick Forester would be there. She hadn't seen him since Almack's the night before, but he hadn't been far from her thoughts.

He had acted so differently from the hateful man he had been from the first moment she'd discovered who he was. There had been something genuine about him, in the way he'd laughed at her jests and called her intelligent. Though Emma was certain he did not mean most of what he said on a day-to-day basis, she had felt he'd meant every word when he'd complimented her.

"Emma?"

"I feel so inferior here in London," Emma said with a wince. Was admitting that truly better than interacting with Mr. Forester again?

Settling in a chair, Tabitha fixed her gaze on Emma while her maid set to work on her hair. "Why would you feel inferior? You have as much reason to be here as anyone, and you are always so happy with friends. Surely it will not take you long to make new ones."

Emma sighed. She had already amassed a good number of admirers since her arrival, though she hadn't allowed herself to become attached to anyone. Whether because she would soon return to Staffordshire or because she feared being known, she wasn't certain. Perhaps it was both. "I suppose. But I think I've grown too comfortable with the familiar. I already know everyone in Tutbury, and they already know I am... odd."

"Who says you are odd?"

"I think my lack of husband speaks for itself." Emma picked at a string in her skirt, refusing to meet her sister's gaze. "I don't need a husband to be happy, and I know this. Mother did perfectly well on her own."

Tabitha spoke softly. "But?"

As she looked up, Emma braced herself for the chance, however small, that her sister would ridicule her for what she was about to say. "But if I am going to subject myself to marriage and give up the independence I hold so dear, I want it to be for the deepest of loves. How could I ask for anything less when you and Alvaro show me day after day that such a thing can exist? In any case, it isn't as if men are lining up to court the woman who speaks her mind freely and aspires to manage her own land."

"You don't know that."

Emma shot her a sharp look. "How many men do you see pursuing me, Tab?"

"Isn't this why we came to London? So you might find yourself a match? You cannot do that by hiding yourself away and cowering."

Emma sat up straight, feeling that judgment in her core. "I am not cowering."

"You have yet to show me otherwise. Why are you so certain there are no men in London who would not find your strong mind to be an asset rather than a mark against you?"

"If such a man existed, I would have found him three years ago, when I was actually trying to find a partner."

"And you are not trying now?"

Oh, Emma hadn't intended to admit that part. She already felt guilty enough about convincing Tabitha and her family to come to London, but she would rather be honest than continue to lie. "Not especially."

"Then, what are we doing here, Emma?" Tabitha asked, her eyebrows pulling low as she gazed at Emma through the mirror.

Could she really admit to the real reason she had come? It would make her sound like an awful person, but it would be accurate. Clasping her hands in front of her, Emma tried to look as repentant as she felt. "Because I worried Mr. Forester would find a wife if I didn't intervene."

Tabitha shared a look with her maid, who dipped into a curtsy and slipped out of the room. Apparently, this conversation had just turned serious enough to require privacy. "What on earth does Mr. Forester's life have to do with yours?"

"You know about Grandfather's inher—"

"And you thought sabotaging the man's chances would benefit yours?" Tabitha turned to face her, using the stern expression that always worked on the girls. Emma wasn't often on the receiving end of her sister's censure, and suddenly she could feel the ten-year difference between the two of them. "Just what sort of man do you think Grandfather is? Do you think he would leave you destitute simply because he wishes to assist a man of unfortunate circumstances?"

Emma tried not to wither where she sat. "There is a difference between having a generous dowry and having independence, and Grandfather refuses to give me independence without a husband. And yet a dowry does me no good without being wed, and even then it hardly does anything for me." She huffed a sigh as her frustration with it all grew. No matter which way she turned, marriage was her only option unless she convinced her grandfather to reconsider as soon as she came of age. "Besides, what right does Nicholas Forester have to lands that have been in our family for over a century? And all because his father and our grandfather were friends years ago! Why should he get something he hasn't earned and will never love as much as I do? The man is entirely incapable of being serious, and unless he stops telling lies to benefit his image and starts taking responsibility for his own life, he will be nothing but a handsome face with land as barren as his soul. I refuse to allow some poor, innocent woman to fall for his many charms only to be a means to an end."

To Emma's surprise, Tabitha nearly smiled as she sat there, as if she had come to understand something she hadn't known before. "Why are you so certain Mr. Forester will destroy Mackenzie Manor? Alvaro told me they spent a good deal out of doors when we were in Staffordshire, and Mr. Forester seemed a different man after exploring Grandfather's lands."

Emma folded her arms. "That means nothing. Mr. Forester has already made his own estate unlivable, and he will likely—"

"Mr. Forester's father made an unfortunate decision that drained the estate of all its finances, leaving Mr. Forester with nothing. His parents died when he was only a boy, and it is a miracle he has made it this far on his own."

Was that true? As that information hit Emma straight in the chest, she tried not to dwell on the feeling of pity that filled her gut. She hardly wanted to feel anything toward Mr. Forester aside from hatred, but she couldn't ignore the fact that she had been wrong. She had been so certain his circumstances were his own doing, that his frivolous nature had led him to squandering what he had.

Feeling small, Emma ducked her head. "I didn't know that."

A hand pressed against her shoulder just before Tabitha sat beside her. "I know Mr. Forester has a... large personality."

Emma laughed. "That is a generous way to put it."

"But Alvaro considers him one of his closest friends. With how many friends my husband possesses, that is not insignificant."

The more Emma thought about it, the more unfair she could admit she had been when it came to Mr. Forester. If she took away the inheritance and their feud, she realized she knew very little about the man. Partly because he was surrounded by so many rumors, but mostly because she hadn't yet bothered to learn where the truth lay. The one time they had been civil—standing at the edge of the Almack's ballroom—she had reluctantly enjoyed his company.

Could there really be something worth knowing about the man? It changed nothing about their circumstances, but perhaps she should spend less time trying to tear him down and more time considering her real reasons for avoiding attachment. What if there really was someone out there who would value her independent nature rather than abhor it? She had been so convinced that such a man couldn't exist that she hadn't given anyone a chance.

"Well?" Tabitha said, grasping her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Will you be joining us tonight?"

Wincing, Emma considered the alternative. Remaining on her own here at the house, with nothing and no one to keep her company except a woman who apparently had a good deal of letters to write and a history of being verbose? That sounded absolutely dreadful. And facing Mr. Forester after this little revelation from Tabitha seemed far less daunting than it had before. Perhaps they could continue their truce. Maybe even be friends. If she lost this war, she wanted to be able to return to visit the lands she loved so well, and she would need Mr. Forester's good favor to do that.

As she hurried to her room and called Jenny to help her dress, Emma couldn't help but smile at the thought of saying something tonight that would bring that handsome smile to Mr. Forester's mouth, like she had at Almack's.

"That," she told her reflection, "is going to become dangerous if you are not careful."