Chapter Eight

Emma should have been happy. It had taken only one dinner party to chase away the insufferable Mr. Forester, and yet the victory felt empty. Like it wasn't real. Shouldn't she have been pleased by the outcome? Her nemesis had taken the first coach out of Tutbury the morning after the dinner with the Barlows, running like the coward he clearly was, with his tail between his legs. And yet Emma had met the news when she arrived for tea with nothing but an ache in her midsection.

Perhaps her breakfast had not agreed with her.

"Oh, Miss Mackenzie, is this not the most dreadful of days?" Miss Barton flopped onto the settee beside Emma, who had been trying to read in the empty library with little success; her mind kept wandering to her battles, few though they had been. "I cannot bear it!"

If Miss Barton wished to pretend they were good friends instead of barely acquaintances, Emma would oblige. For now. "Whatever is the matter?" she asked, tucking a ribbon into the book to mark her place.

Miss Barton's blue eyes widened. "Mr. Forester's absence, of course! He only just arrived, and now he is gone. Forever!" She grabbed hold of Emma's hand and squeezed so hard that Emma winced.

Emma tried to school her features before her expression accidentally insulted the distraught woman. She had never been skilled at masking what she felt, but she hardly wished Alvaro's cousin added pain to this supposedly traumatic afternoon. "He has only gone to London," Emma said to reassure her. "And he is good friends with my brother-in-law and will likely—"

"You don't understand!" Miss Barton sank low into the settee with her legs stretched out, her dramatics growing worse by the minute. "It may not be the Season right now, but that does not mean there are not plenty of women in London. Half the ton is in love with him already, and I cannot return to Town until the spring. Who will keep them from turning his head?" Miss Barton rolled over and pressed her face into Emma's shoulder. "Mark my words, Miss Mackenzie. He will be engaged in less than a week."

"A week?" Emma croaked. The book slipped from her lap. Could that be true? Grandfather hadn't been all that convinced in Mr. Forester's ability to find a wife—she had assumed that was Forester's reason for coming to Tutbury—but from what Grandfather said, Forester hadn't seemed to believe in the deadline when he was in London before.

Surely he would not be so fastidious now that he knew he had only less than a month and a half to procure a wife.

Miss Barton, who had begun crying, nodded. "That is why this is the most dreadful day. I am in mourning for the future I might have had with the man I love with my whole soul."

If Miss Barton, dramatic as she was, could look past Forester's obvious flaws, other women would as well. And if they knew the fortune he was set to inherit—Emma's fortune—they would be all the more eager to catch his attention.

It was no wonder Emma's victory had tasted sour. It was not a victory at all!

"If you'll excuse me." Leaving Miss Barton on the settee, where she sobbed into the cushion, Emma hurried from the library in search of her sister.

A week? That was hardly enough time for Emma to make a plan, let alone execute anything, and that was assuming she even found a way to London. She hadn't been to Town since her one and only Season three and a half years ago, and the city had hardly made a good impression on her. After meeting some of the most dishonest, selfish, and cruel members of the upper crust, she had vowed to remain in the country among the humbler people of fewer means. At least in the country the good outnumbered the bad, which was not something she could say about London.

But the prospect of losing her independence, which she treasured above everything else, was reason enough to break that vow.

"Tabitha!" Emma found her sister in the nursery with the girls, the four of them enjoying tea together. "I must speak with you."

Raising her eyebrows, Tabitha glanced at the curious girls and then rose to her feet, gesturing for the nurse to take her place. Once they were out in the corridor, she gripped Emma's hand. "What has happened? You look as if you've seen a ghost, and I know you do not believe in those."

No thanks to Miss Barton and her loose tongue the other night. Emma swallowed, trying to calm herself. She needed to sound rational if she wanted to convince her sister of her makeshift plan. "I think we should go to London."

Tabitha's eyes went wide. "You want another Season?"

"Heavens no!" Emma managed a little laugh. "But perhaps a short stay before winter could be pleasant."

"You hate London."

"It's been years."

"Because you hate it." Tabitha pursed her lips, studying Emma, as if hoping to decipher the reason behind this surprise request. "London is such a distance," she said eventually. "Surely you can wait until—"

"This cannot wait. And you know I will not be able to convince Grandfather to go when he barely tolerates London in the first place."

"Yes, the two of you have that in common."

Emma could feel her panic rising, like a hot stew bubbling up inside her chest and threatening to spill over. But if she told her sister the real reason she wanted to go to London—to sabotage a man's every attempt at finding a wife—Tabitha would think her bound for Bedlam, no matter that she knew all about the will and Grandfather's stipulations.

A sane woman did not put so much effort into controlling a man's life.

Then again, most women were perfectly content to live their lives according to their fathers and husbands. Emma was not most women, and she refused to give up her dreams so easily. If she had a chance to save her future, she had to take it.

"Please," she said, squeezing Tabitha's hand. "When have I ever asked you for anything?"

Though Tabitha laughed, she seemed unable to come up with an answer to that question as her expression became more thoughtful. "Have you ever asked me for something?"

No. She hadn't. Because even though she was several years her sister's junior, Emma had always done everything herself. She asked for Elias's help only when she knew her cousin would benefit at the same time, and Grandfather more often than not asked for Emma's opinion or assistance than the other way around.

"This one thing," Emma said. "I know a stay in London is nothing small, but—"

"Honestly, Alvaro would likely jump for joy if I suggested it," Tabitha said with a sigh. "I think he gets lonely in the country, no matter how much he pretends otherwise. He loves spending time with the girls, but they cannot compare to the friends he has in Town. We have been in the country since July, which is longer than what he is used to."

Emma held back a grin. That hadn't been an agreement, but it was close.

Glancing around the empty corridor, Tabitha was quiet for a long few seconds before she said, "Perhaps we could find you a proper suitor at last, without so many unworthy prospects crowding the ballrooms, and you can finally settle down."

"Perhaps," Emma agreed, knowing she would be focused on anything but. She was convinced no man would fit the bill, as no man wished to have a wife who forged her own path. In her experience, men preferred simple women who did as they were told. If such a contrary man presented himself, she would consider him, but the chances of that were slim to none.

"I will speak to Alvaro," Tabitha said with a little shrug. She wasn't entirely fond of London either, Emma knew, though she had acclimated to the city after years of joining her husband while Parliament was in session. "Two weeks should be enough time to prepare for—"

"Two days," Emma practically shouted. "The sooner we can go, the better. Before winter sets in."

"Two days!"

Emma gripped both her hands. "Please."

Sighing again, Tabitha nodded. "Very well. If Alvaro agrees, we will leave as soon as we are able. But you know this will put Miss Barton out. She planned to stay with us for—"

"We could take her with us!" Biting her lip as she grimaced, Emma tried not to imagine being stuck in a coach with that woman for the entirety of the journey. It was no wonder Mr. Forester had hidden while he could. Miss Barton was perfectly sweet, but even a storyteller like Emma could only handle so much drama in one dose. "She was just telling me how much she wished to be in London. We can keep each other company as we go about Town."

Besides, if Miss Barton truly loved Mr. Forester as much as she professed, she would be crucial in keeping the man from ruining everything.

"You're going to London?" Elias appeared at the end of the corridor, his expression rather calm for someone who spoke with a good deal of alarm in his voice. "Why?"

Emma could see the wariness in his eyes, as if he knew exactly her reasons. He had been an unwitting accomplice in too many of her schemes and stories for him not to have at least some suspicion, and she had told him all about the inheritance yesterday.

"She still hasn't told me her reasons," Tabitha said with a shrug, making Emma cringe. "Though, I will be doing my best to find Emma a husband while we are there. It will do her good. Would you care to join us, Elias? We are, apparently, leaving as soon as the arrangements can be made, and I imagine we will return a few weeks before Christmastime."

"My estate needs my attention," Elias said, frowning a little. "And it seems unwise to leave your grandfather here on his own for so long. You will be taking Miss Barton with you?"

Emma chuckled at his concerned frown, perhaps a little too grateful that her cousin wouldn't be there to stop her from going to battle against Forester. "Yes, you will have your peace and quiet restored, Mr. Drake."

"That isn't..." He cleared his throat, shifting back into his usual expressionless self. "I suppose I will go find some books to hold me over until your library is available again. With your permission, Tabitha."

"Of course. Alvaro never reads them anyway, so you are welcome to anything that interests you."

"Miss Barton is in the library," Emma warned with a grin, and Elias returned a small smile before disappearing. Then she turned to Tabitha, taking her sister's hand. "I know I am acting strange, but I promise my reasons are good. Should I not be allowed to secure my future as much as anyone else?"

She hoped Tabitha would take that as an agreement to pursue a match while in Town, rather than inferring any sort of sabotage when it came to Nicholas Forester and the inheritance. Emma wasn't very comfortable with the idea of ruining the man's chances, but what choice did she have? He had had more than enough time to secure his place as heir, and now it was her turn.

It was time for her to take charge of her own life.