“We must make haste,” he said, and she looked up at him in surprise.
Blast it all to heaven and back, when had the man gotten so handsome? He wasn’t smiling, didn’t look at all charming, but as she looked at his face her treacherous heart thumped again.
He wore a fine hat and a simply styled but impeccably made suit. That accounted for his sudden appeal. Her mother was the queen of style, which made Emme a lady-in-waiting, at the least. She knew good clothing when she saw it, and oh, how it could do wonders for a person. Mystery solved, she turned and grasped Hester in a quick embrace.
Hester squeezed her tightly. “Darling,” she said, and Emme heard the tears in her voice.
Emme closed her eyes against the sudden sting of emotion she felt.
“Please,” Hester continued, “please, please do not do anything foolish.”
Emme’s eyes snapped open as Hester still held her tightly. “I know you will behave. Please remember everything you’ve ever learned about decorum and poise.”
Emme ground her teeth together and pushed free from the bone-crushing embrace. She forced her mouth into what she hoped resembled a smile. “I will not embarrass you, Mother. Never fear.”
Hester sighed and placed her hand alongside Emme’s face. “It isn’t only that. Be safe, dearest. Do not take unnecessary risks. Are you certain you do not want to take Rosie with you? Rented maids are not always reliable.”
“I will be fine.” She kissed her mother’s cheek and paused, thinking. “Watch for Madeline, though. There is something—”
Oliver quietly cleared his throat from his place by the door. Emme didn’t need to read his emotions to know he was impatient. Well, he could wait one more moment.
“Perhaps choose a special dress for Madeline.” Emme said. “Something that flatters her coloring. And make her wear it in Edinburgh. Telescribe a message when you’ve arrived there.”
Hester’s surprise was visible on her face, but she nodded and quickly kissed Emme’s cheek.
Oliver ushered her out to the carriage, which was weighed down with trunks. He—rather aggressively, she thought—assisted her into the vehicle and gave the driver quick commands in an undertone. When he joined her in the carriage, he sat opposite her, and she knew a moment’s odd disappointment that he wasn’t sitting beside her. It was just as well because now she could continue to admire his suit, which was absolutely the reason her heart thumped hard again.
“Apologies for the rush,” he said as the carriage moved forward and then gained speed. “Friendship with Daniel Pickett will not buy a delay in departure.”
Emme rolled her eyes but then checked the timepiece pinned to her bodice. “Why were you not at the house earlier?”
“I arrived in plenty of time but was unaware of the effort required to load all of your”—he waved a hand at the back of the carriage—“accoutrements. Lady O’Shea was most particular about the trunk placement. Made me memorize the order and instructions for each.”
“Welcome to a glimpse of my world, sir. Misery does love company, so naturally I now find myself giddy.” She sighed. “This portmanteau is the only piece of vital import to me. The rest is my mother’s doing.”
“Your bag—what is in it?”
“Notes and references for my presentations at the meetings. A few books.” She leaned back. “I would be quite at sea without them. There is so much information . . .” She shook her head and sighed. “I wish I had Hazel’s brain. That woman never forgets a thing.”
“You have steeped yourself in this world for some time, Emmeline. I imagine you would succeed without even one note.”
She tipped her head at him. “Why, thank you, Detective. Untrue, but flattering all the same.”
He shot her a flat look. “I do not bother with flattery.”
“Ah, noted. I shall beat my inflated ego back down to size.” Her knee bounced, and she looked out the window at the autumn evening. The sky was overcast and would soon be dark.
“Are you apprehensive about traveling? The endeavor as a whole?”
She turned her attention back to him. “Why do you ask?”
He pointed to her knee, which bounced quite independently of her will. She clamped her hand on it, which only furthered the image in her head that her nervous habits stemmed from some external force she must literally stop.
She sighed. “I do not mind travel. I am unsure of my abilities to do justice to my duties this week.”
He settled back into the seat and exhaled quietly. She realized that if he’d been inclined to bounce a knee as a sign of nerves, he’d have been doing it.
“You’re apprehensive,” she stated.
He nodded slowly. His attention was drawn to the city beyond the carriage windows and then finally settled on her. “We are behind schedule, and I do not wish to miss the flight. Additionally, the Chief-Inspector and I are no closer to ascertaining the sender of your Bad Letter, and I’d hoped for some clues by now. It is frustratingly free of fingerprints or other identifying features.”
“You must have some suspicions. You’re familiar enough with London’s nefarious characters at all levels of social strata.”
He inclined his head in assent but paused as if deciding whether or not to share his thoughts.
“You promised, no secrets,” she said.
“I promised no secrets regarding credible information. I made no promise to divulge to you my every thought.”
“That is just as well, because I do not want your every thought. Only those relevant to me.”
One corner of his mouth twitched, and she thought for a moment he might smile. “Very well. I have asked myself which group among our society has the most to lose at the prospect of a successful Summit gathering.”
“The Committee,” she said without hesitation. That they both knew exactly which committee she meant was telling. The government was full of committees at every level; the PSRC warranted a category of its own.
He nodded again. “It certainly isn’t a new thought. From
