Chapter Two

Emma Mackenzie walked arm in arm with her cousin, Elias Drake, but she was considering leaving him behind and continuing through town on her own. As she often did, she had brought up the subject of being an independent woman, and today Elias was having none of it.

"You will speak this topic to death, Emma," he said with a groan. "You know why your grandfather cannot leave you Mackenzie Manor and its assets. Not on your own."

"Because I am a woman." Emma scoffed. "Aside from my sister, I am the only relative he has left, Elias. Even distantly. If not to me, where are his lands supposed to go?"

Elias paused to examine a hat in the window they passed, though he was far too sensible a man to purchase such a thing when he had a perfectly acceptable hat already atop his head. There was no one as practical as Elias. In all ways he was her opposite, and Emma figured it was the only reason they had managed to remain close throughout their lives. Otherwise, she might have gotten bored of him.

Shaking his head at the hat, Elias gave her a tug and moved on down the street. "I thought Mr. Mackenzie had already promised the estate to that Forester fellow."

Emma clenched her hands into fists at the mere mention of the man. "Oh yes, the wonderful Mr. Forester, Grandfather's favorite charity case." He was not even related to her grandfather—merely the son of Grandfather's close friend, and yet Grandfather had promised him everything beyond Emma's small allowance. Surely a woman inheriting an estate was preferable to giving the land to someone not even of Mackenzie blood.

She huffed. "As far as I know, Mr. Forester has been in Tutbury only once in his life, and I am just as capable as any man might be. Why should he have what I cannot?"

Elias chuckled. "Emma, you cannot change the world out of spite, though I know that won't stop you from trying."

"You can hardly blame me for complaining when my only solution is marriage."

"You could be a governess. Plenty of ladies of high birth have become so when necessity dictates they do."

She had considered the idea once, but her thoughts had been fruitless. "Grandfather has forbidden it, and I don't have the heart to disappoint him. He thinks taking up an occupation is beneath me. Yet another thing I cannot do because of what I was born to." Though, she knew she could hardly complain about being the daughter of a gentleman. She truly was fortunate, but was it so wrong to want more for herself?

Patting her arm, Elias seemed to think over his next words before he spoke them, something he had taken more of a habit to as they grew older. He had grown wise when talking of subjects that riled Emma. And there were many. "What is so terrible about marriage?" he asked finally.

Emma wrinkled her nose. "You think me foolish, don't you?"

"I am just trying to understand. Surely now that you are grown you are more inclined to it."

"Now that I am grown I realize it is simply another form of imprisonment."

They had reached the square in the center of Tutbury, and Elias pulled Emma to a stop so he could look her in the eyes. "You know," he said, "I am rather looking forward to marriage once I find myself a good wife."

Emma snorted a laugh and was glad to see Elias chance a smile. He was not the most expressive of people, so she loved when she could get him to give her an outward show of his happiness.

"It will be difficult for you to find a wife if you never venture outside your house, Elias Drake," she teased.

He was not injured in the slightest. "I am out of the house right now."

"With me. That hardly counts. But no matter your thoughts on marriage, you cannot dissuade mine."

"Marriage is not imprisonment, Emma."

"Did you know Mrs. Hudson has never made a single choice in her married life? From the moment she is woken in the morning to the instant she falls asleep, everything she does is dictated by Mr. Hudson."

Elias made a face of irritation and amusement, apparently caught off guard by Emma's example. "That isn't true, and you know it," he said before fixing his calm expression once more. "Mrs. Hudson spends her days how she likes and is usually out socializing."

"That does not mean she doesn't have to get permission to leave the house first. That much is true, at least."

"I will admit some men are stricter than others," he said with a sigh. "But it makes sense for a man to want to protect his wife, and to care for his lands and house. But every woman in your situation has a say in her household, so stop complaining about how women have nothing."

Taking his arm once more, Emma pulled him in the direction of the millinery. "Wealthy women don't need men in their lives," she argued. "So why should I marry?"

"Because you are not wealthy."

"Yet."

When they reached the shop, Elias pulled himself free and fixed Emma with a look of long-suffering yet withering patience. He spoke quietly, which Emma appreciated when he mentioned the one fact she hated most about her life. "You seem to have forgotten that your grandfather has told you that you must be married before he will turn the estate over to you. As far as I am aware, you are unwed and have firm plans to remain so."

Emma huffed again, folding her arms, but there was nothing she could say to argue his point.

"I am going to post my letter," he added more loudly, gesturing toward the post office. "Try not to make a nuisance of yourself while I'm gone."

"I am never a nuisance ."

Emma gritted her teeth. It was not in his expression, but she could see the laughter in her cousin's eyes. The only reason she had been able to come to town at all was because he was with her; Grandfather did not trust her to be in the village on her own. He expected rakes and bandits around every corner, and Emma could do nothing to persuade him otherwise. He was a good man, but he couldn't seem to see how little she needed a man in her life.

She smacked Elias's arm when his lips twitched with a smile again. "You are asking for trouble, Elias Drake," she warned.

"You are trouble."

Waiting until he had disappeared inside the post office, Emma slipped inside the millinery and considered their conversation. Marriage was not all bad, if she was to believe the picture of happiness her elder sister painted with her husband, but Emma had seen far too many miserable unions to think she could be guaranteed happiness. At least with an estate to manage, she could live without being subject to a man's dictates.

Unfortunately for her, Grandfather had gotten it into his head that she required a husband to manage the estate for her.

She picked up a fetching bonnet lined with blue ribbons, though she hardly gave it much notice in her frustration.

If she could not convince Grandfather to leave her more than her little dowry and a barely livable yearly allowance, she would be forced into a marriage when he was no longer around to look after her. That fate could very well happen soon, given his old age. And the thought of being in an unwanted marriage made her stomach hurt. If she could marry for love, then all would be well, but that was asking a good deal.

Who would want her? She was no heiress, and she would not call herself a rare beauty. She liked to think she was more than passable, but her one Season in London had hardly given her hope for rich and handsome men flocking to her side like they did with the noble women of grace and poise; they all seemed to find her tenacity a fault. She had made plenty of friends but never had any prospects worth pursuing. Anyone who thought to court her had been far from the ideal she hoped for. Besides, she hated leaving Staffordshire when everyone she loved was here: her sister, her grandfather, her three adorable nieces.

Single men in Tutbury were few and far between, and it was not as if prospective husbands appeared out of thin air.

"That would look marvelous on you."

Emma jumped, spinning around to find an unfamiliar man leaning against the wall in the corner of the shop. He was mostly shadowed, though a beam of sunlight landed on his smile.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

His smile grew. "Forgive me. I hadn't intended to say anything. I'm hiding, you see. But the bonnet would match your eyes."

This was most peculiar, and Emma glanced around the shop, curious to know from whom he was hiding. She really shouldn't have been speaking to him, seeing as he was a stranger and she was on her own, but this was Tutbury. Nothing bad ever happened here. And aside from the shopkeeper, the building was empty.

Emma knew she should retreat and go find Elias, but her curiosity kept her in place. "You're hiding?" she asked, returning the bonnet to its stand. "From what, may I ask?"

He shifted his stance, folding his arms as he tucked one foot over the other as if he hadn't a care in the world. His well- tailored clothing spoke of wealth, and his demeanor spoke of pride, two things Emma didn't especially like. "From something truly frightening. You didn't like the bonnet? Is it because I said it would look well on you? Usually people believe whatever I say."

Scoffing, Emma inched a little closer to the man, hoping to see his face. He had the voice of someone both old and young, like he had seen more years than her but didn't necessarily show it in the way he spoke. "What reason would I have to believe you when you are a stranger to me? Good day, sir."

Just as she dipped into a curtsy, the bell above the door jingled, signaling a new arrival in the shop. Emma turned to see if it was someone she knew but had hardly had a chance to look before the man behind her cursed and ducked down behind a display of hats beside her.

"I beg of you, stay where you are," he hissed, looking up at her with wide blue eyes.

Now that she could see him better, she guessed he was several years her senior. He looked rather ridiculous, crouched down as he was, as he was nearly too tall to fit behind the display in the first place. The only reason he was hidden was because Emma stood there.

The two ladies who had stepped into the shop looked around, and Emma guessed they were likely looking for their gentleman companion. The finer of the women certainly dressed as well as the man, her dress made of bolder colors than Emma ever saw out here in the country. She rather looked like a peacock as she rose up on her toes to see across the shop.

Emma busied herself with the nearest hat, though she was sorely tempted to see what would happen if she gave up the man's hiding place. "I cannot see why you're so frightened of a couple of women," she muttered as quietly as she could. "Especially when one of them is a maid and the other looks like a fine woman indeed."

The man snorted. "Miss Barton is no mere woman."

"She looks innocent enough to me."

"You all do, but none of you are." He cringed. "I didn't mean that."

"Then, why did you say it?"

"Because I say a good deal of things I do not mean. Is she still searching for me?" He peeked around the edge of the display, though he would hardly be able to see the women from his low vantage point.

Emma glanced over. Lady Peacock—Miss Barton—was now admiring an overtrimmed bonnet while her maid looked ready to fall asleep on her feet. They must have been traveling through Tutbury on their way to somewhere else; people rarely came to the little town to visit.

"She seems to be enamored by a rather horrendous bonnet," Emma said with a shrug. She could only pretend to be interested in the hat display for so long before she was noticed, and Elias would return at any moment and likely judge her for speaking to the man. "I take it you are traveling with her?"

His eyebrows rose as he looked back at her. "Indeed."

"Then, won't you need to be discovered eventually? I doubt you would like to be left behind."

"At this point, that might be preferable." But he sighed and twisted his hat in his hands. "I suppose I am only delaying the inevitable, though I thank you for assisting me, even if my efforts were in vain. What name might I give my beautiful protector?"

Emma frowned. Speaking to him was one thing; introducing herself was another. "I hardly think that is appropriate, sir."

The grin that stretched across his mouth made him look far more handsome than he had a right to look. With the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, he seemed to be a man who smiled often. "And here I was hoping you would be different," he muttered before rising to his full height.

Lady Peacock noticed him immediately. "Nicholas!" she said before clapping a hand over her mouth and turning bright red. Apparently she hadn't meant to call him by his given name. "There you are."

Nicholas nodded toward Lady Peacock before giving Emma one last grin. "I commend your propriety," he told her as he set his hat atop his blond head, "but if I might offer a suggestion?"

Emma couldn't decide whether she should be offended or pleased by his continued attention. "Are you going to tell me to purchase the bonnet?" she guessed dryly.

He chuckled, looking at the item in question as he walked slowly backward in the direction of his companions. "While I stand by my assessment that you would look quite handsome in it, my suggestion is unrelated."

"What is it?"

He smirked. "If given the option, always be a nuisance."

Emma let out a little gasp. Did that mean he had heard her conversation with Elias outside? Before she could think up some clever response, Nicholas escorted the other ladies outside, leaving Emma on her own.

What a peculiar man! Emma hadn't been around anyone new in quite some time, especially anyone who clearly spent a good deal of time among the haute ton , but the gentleman had been entirely improper. He must have assumed she wouldn't be versed in Society's rules and decided he could do as he pleased.

At least she wouldn't have to see him again, as a man with so little regard for politeness could hardly bring anything good to Tutbury.

The door opened once more, bringing Elias into the shop. He must have seen something in her expression because he frowned slightly as he approached. "Did something happen?" he asked, looking around the shop as if he might find evidence of whatever he suspected. "Have you found what you were looking for?"

She could tell him about the strange man, but she chose to keep that moment to herself. Elias would only worry and tell her grandfather, and she would undoubtedly lose what little freedom she had. Grandfather would likely forbid her from coming into town at all.

"I was simply waiting for you," she said, looping her arm through his. "You are far better at colors than I am."

He lifted one eyebrow but said nothing about her deflection, instead pointing to the blue-trimmed bonnet Nicholas had commented on earlier.

Emma snickered. There she was, judging the man for acting outside of the rules while she went and thought of him by his Christian name. She neither had the right to know his name nor cared to remember it. "You like it?"

Elias shrugged. "I believe the color would suit you, though it is certainly overpriced."

Indeed it was, but that only made Emma more inclined to purchase it, even if it would forever make her think of the strange man. She received a generous allowance from her grandfather, but not enough to live off of, and purchasing a bonnet she didn't need was one of the few things she could do on her own.

"Yes, I believe you are right," she said, and then she picked up the bonnet and strode to the front to pay for it. As soon as she finished, she led Elias back onto the street and said, "I would like to visit my sister today."

Elias didn't respond, which meant he was more than happy to join her. Emma was glad her sister lived within walking distance, because who else could she tell about the mysterious stranger passing through? Tabitha's husband, Lord Harstone, neé Alvaro Rowland, might even know who he was, and Emma praised the fact that her sister had managed to marry a particularly friendly and social viscount. Though the gentleman named Nicholas was likely only passing through, if by chance he was visiting someone in the area, it would be far easier to avoid him if she knew his surname as well as his given. Alvaro would know it.

Emma had been only eleven when Tabitha married, but she remembered quite clearly the first time she'd met Alvaro Rowland. At the time, he had barely come over from Spain after the tragic deaths of his cousins and was still settling into his new role as heir to the Harstone Viscountcy near where the Mackenzies lived. He had gotten himself lost traveling to his country home from London. Tabitha and Emma had been out on a walk, and he'd stopped to ask them for directions.

Emma had liked his calm and friendly nature from the start, and Tabitha had been smitten from the first moment she'd laid eyes on him. Mr. Rowland had not once looked away from Tabitha during the whole of the conversation, and he had called on her that very evening.

Two months later they were married, and three years after that Alvaro had inherited his uncle's title and become Lord Harstone.

Ten years down the road of their relationship, they were still the most perfect couple Emma had ever seen. If she had to have a husband, how she longed for one who cared for his wife as much as Alvaro did!

Ideally, she wouldn't need to search the ends of the earth for a husband at all. She hardly needed one, and in her experience, men were far too often like the man in the shop; they felt themselves important and necessary to a woman's everyday decisions. Yes, perhaps Nicholas had been correct in saying the bonnet was a good choice for her, but that didn't mean he had the right to tell her so. And without even an introduction? Emma didn't always follow the rules of Society, but he seemed to push far beyond the boundaries she'd set for herself. That made him dangerous, so she would have to ensure she never saw him again.

"I feel as if you are scheming something," Elias muttered as they walked.

Emma grinned. "You always think I am scheming."

"You always are."

She wouldn't call this a scheme, but she was determined to learn more of the man if she could. Her gut was telling her she needed to be wary of his warm smile and bright eyes.

* * *

Just as Emma hoped, her sister, Tabitha, was in the nursery at Harstone Court with her three girls, each of them attending to their crafts. Lucy, the littlest at five, seemed to have run into a spot of trouble with her needle and thread.

"Here," Emma said, taking hold of the embroidery before the girl twisted the knot even tighter. "I've always had a hard time with thread."

"I did not expect you to visit today," Tabitha said without looking up.

Beside her, eight-year-old Sophia seemed to be matching her mother exactly, from the perfectly straight way she sat to the speed at which she stitched. Every so often, Sophia glanced over at her mother to make sure she was doing everything as she should.

Emma couldn't help but grin. Sophia would make a fine lady one day. "I visit nearly every day, Tabitha. Don't pretend to be surprised. Besides, I heard one of the servants say you had a guest arrive today, and I thought I could help with entertaining."

Tabitha gave her a grateful smile. "Grandfather is here as well. He came an hour ago in the carriage, so I am guessing you walked?"

"It is not so far."

"But that would mean you brought poor Elias with you."

" Poor Elias is happily sequestered in your library, as always," Emma said with a laugh. "Honestly, I think he enjoys coming here as much as I do simply because you have all the books he could possibly want to read."

"The two of you have that in common. And how was town on your way over?"

Emma fought against laughing as she remembered her encounter with Nicholas. Now that she was removed from the moment, it all felt rather ridiculous. "Town was... surprising," she said.

Tabitha finally looked up, her brow furrowing in interest and concern. "Surprising? Is that good or bad? What happened?"

Though Emma knew it would serve her better to speak the direct truth, she could hardly pass up a moment to embellish the story a bit, particularly with her three nieces peeking up from their cloths in interest. They adored their aunt's stories, and Emma liked nothing better than telling them.

"Well," she said dramatically, then laughed when Tabitha scoffed, knowing exactly what was coming. "There I was, walking down the street and considering what I might bring back for my three favorite little girls—"

"We're not little," Dora said and jutted out her chin. At six and a half, she liked to think she was older than she was.

Emma bit her lip before she laughed. "Of course not, my darling," she said. "I was trying to think of what gifts I might bring back for my three favorite nieces, when suddenly I was attacked!"

The girls jumped when Emma raised her voice for the last word.

"Attacked, were you?" Tabitha asked calmly. She kept her eyes on her sewing, but a smile played at her lips.

"Indeed," Emma replied. "It was as if he came out of nowhere, this beast, and he grabbed hold of me before I could run."

"That sounds truly frightening," Tabitha said in the same calm tone.

Dora was not so calm. "What did you do, Emma?" she whispered.

Even Sophia had paled a little as she waited for the story to continue.

"I did what I have been taught to do," Emma said. "I fought the creature off! Surely you girls have been trained in fisticuffs?"

Tabitha let out a sigh. "Oh, Emma, now they are going to want to learn."

Winking, Emma ignored the comment and continued. "I fought valiantly, as any lady should, and I had nearly freed myself when the witch appeared."

"Witch?" Lucy whispered. "What is a witch?"

"She is the cruelest of beings, full of dark magic and evil spells. No one who encounters her comes out the same, and as soon as I saw her, I realized the beast was not a beast at all, but a man who had been cursed! Cursed to roam the land as a beast until someone could save him."

Sophia scooted just a little closer to where Emma sat, her embroidery forgotten, and she spoke so quietly that Emma barely heard her. "Save him how?"

Emma grinned. "Why, with a kiss, of course!"

"Of course," Tabitha said under her breath.

"Did you kiss him?" Dora asked with wide eyes.

"I most certainly did not!" Emma replied and jutted out her chin in the most proper manner she could muster. "Beast or not, my kisses are far too valuable. I told him he would have to earn my kiss if he wanted it."

"That is a relief," Tabitha breathed. Surely she didn't think Emma would have kissed a man she'd met on the street.

The nursery doors suddenly burst open, and Alvaro jumped inside the nursery with a shout that made all three girls shriek and scatter before he rushed inside to catch them.

Emma had been startled as well, but Tabitha hardly reacted, despite the sheer noise level in the room. This sort of thing happened often.

As the girls ran away from their father, Tabitha reached for Emma's hand and pulled her onto the sofa next to her so she could be heard. "I take it you met a gentleman in town today," she said with a soft smile.

Emma nodded. "A most peculiar man."

"And handsome, if your blush is to be believed."

"So very handsome," she admitted, though she didn't want to. Nicholas could be as handsome as he'd like, but that didn't change his impropriety.

"What was this gentleman's name?"

That question was harder to answer; Emma could hardly tell her sister she knew only the man's Christian name. What would Tabitha think of her then?

Luckily, Lord Harstone had cornered one of his girls, which meant the shrieking stopped as the other two burst into laughter. He had caught Dora, and apparently that meant the game was over and it was time to return to normal.

"Papa," Dora asked, still shrinking away from his outstretched arms, "is it true that a kiss can turn a beast into a man?"

Emma snorted a laugh.

Not at all taken aback by the odd question, Alvaro grinned and pulled Dora up into his arms. "How else do you think your mama tamed me?" he said as he brought Dora back to the center of the room, where the others waited. "I would have remained a beast forever without her lips." He bent over and placed a kiss on Tabitha's smile as if to prove his point. "But I will hear of no kisses until you are grown, yes?"

"I don't want to kiss any beasts," Lucy said with a pout.

Sophia, on the other hand, seemed to consider the idea with interest, and Emma laughed again.

As if he couldn't help himself, Alvaro kissed his wife once more, much to the disgust of their children. Dora even squirmed away, trying to get out of his arms and away from the affection between her parents. Satisfied, he stood straight again and planted a kiss on Dora's cheek despite her protests.

"Ah, if I could but stay here with my girls all day," he said with a dramatic sigh. "But I have a guest to entertain, so I must steal your mama from you and leave you with Miss Howard."

The nursemaid in question seemed almost relieved to have something to do. She spent a good deal of time watching Lord and Lady Harstone raise their own children.

"Mi cielito," Alvaro said and took Tabitha by the hands to raise her to her feet. "You are needed in the guest wing. Miss Barton had some questions about her room."

Emma had been considering remaining with the girls, but her head snapped up at the name Miss Barton . That was the peacock she had seen in town, unless there was another Miss Barton traveling to the area. And if Miss Barton was at Harstone Court, what if that meant...

Would Emma again be seeing the improper Nicholas?

"Yes, of course," Tabitha said, then touched a soft kiss to the hair of each of her daughters. "You girls behave, and I will return to tuck you into bed."

"But I want to meet her," Sophia said with a frown. "You said I could meet Papa's cousin."

How Tabitha managed to withstand that trembling lip, Emma had no idea, and she waited for her sister to crack. Tabitha was made of stronger stuff than that, though, and she put on a smile before tucking her hand beneath Sophia's chin. "I will not go back on my promise," she told the girl. "You can meet her tomorrow when she is refreshed. We must give her a chance to settle in before we surprise her with how much you've grown."

Sophia nodded, though still disappointed, and returned to her sewing. She looked more and more a young lady instead of a little girl, and Emma wished they didn't have to grow up so fast.

Unless she found love and a husband who would not treat her as property—unlikely—Emma would have to be content to watch her nieces, rather than her own children, grow up. And that would have to be enough.