“I want to stay at Stafford,” Emeline said, answering Jo’s question. “I want to start the school again.”
“It was such a marvelous benefit to the neighborhood.”
“I always thought so. If only I could convince the earl.”
“You’ve discussed it with him?”
“On numerous occasions.”
“Really?”
“He’s not the ogre he’s reputed to be.”
“Which indicates you’ve spent enough time with him to have formed an opinion.”
“He’s actually quite an interesting person.”
“I’m surprised you’d say so. Considering how he treated you the day he arrived at the estate, I’m amazed you have a civil word to offer.”
“He enjoys being difficult, and he goes out of his way to be obnoxious. He thrives on it.”
“Are you sure it’s deliberate behavior? In light of the trouble he’s caused, I’m more inclined to believe that cruelty is his genuine nature and not an act.”
“He has a compassionate streak a mile long, but he hides it.”
“I’ve met his brother.” Jo was careful not to reveal the merest hint of the conflicted feelings roiling through her.
“Have you? What do you think of him?”
“He’s very cordial, compared to his older sibling. He, too, claims the earl is wonderful—once you get to know him.”
“That’s the tricky part, I suppose,” Emeline said, “getting to truly know him. He doesn’t let anyone close except Lt. Price. Have you heard what he did for me?”
“No, what?”
“He bought me this dress.”
“He what?” Jo stopped and pulled Emeline around to face her.
“He bought me this dress and several others. He purchased clothes for Nan and Nell too.”
“Why?”
“When he found out that he’d had our cottage burned, he felt awful.”
“You’re joking.”
“He insisted on replacing what was destroyed in the fire. We’re so desperate; I couldn’t refuse.”
“It’s peculiar that he would bother himself over it.”
“Isn’t it though? This is what I mean about his being kind. Who would have expected such generosity from him?”
“Not me,” Jo said.
“Not me either,” Emeline agreed. She hesitantly ventured, “Should I keep the clothes? Especially the ones for Nan and Nell. I realize it looks bad, and I can’t have people gossiping.”
“Absolutely, you should keep the clothes.” Jo clucked her tongue with disgust. “The man is a menace, and after all the aggravation he’s inflicted on you, a new wardrobe is the least of what you deserve.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure, and if I hear anybody grousing, I’ll punch them in the nose.”
They laughed, and Jo took her arm and continued on again. They strolled silently, with Jo lost in contemplation.
She wished she believed in magic. She wished she could cast a spell and become a different sort of woman with a different sort of life. She’d always been a decent person. Why was there no reward for her efforts?
Down the road, horses’ hooves sounded. As they rounded the bend, they saw Lord Stafford and Lt. Price riding toward them.
Jo stifled a smile, but Emeline stiffened with affront.
“I don’t want to talk to him,” she said.
“To who? The earl?”
“Yes.”
“Why not?”
“He exhausts me.”
“They’re heading directly for us, so we can’t avoid a conversation. Have you thanked him for the dress? It seems a safe enough subject.”
“He’ll have to brag about giving it to me. He’s insufferable.”
“Every man I’ve ever met has been insufferable. I imagine I’ll survive one more display of it.”
She patted Emeline’s hand, as she braced herself, waiting for them to near. They were so magnificent, mounted on the earl’s finest horses and attired in their uniforms, red coats, white trousers, black boots polished to a dazzling shine.
“They’re so handsome,” Jo said.
“But they know they are, and I can’t abide such arrogance.”
“All men are arrogant too. It’s embedded in their character at birth.”
Emeline chuckled. “With that attitude, you’ll never find another husband.”
“Why would I want another one?”
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Lt. Price called as they approached.
“Hello,” Jo and Emeline replied together.
The earl was silent, appearing irked that they’d delayed his passing.
“Lord Stafford”—Jo forced herself to be affable—“thank you for bringing Emeline and her sisters to the manor. Thank you for helping them. I’m very grateful.”
He frowned. “Why would you be grateful?”
“She’s my friend. I hated to see her in dire straits.”
He regarded Emeline with extreme disdain.
“She has friends?” he asked. “I’m surprised. How do you put up with her?”
“Very funny,” Emeline fumed, and she peered over at Jo. “I told you he’d be obnoxious. He assumes you’ll be impressed by discourtesy.”
“I’m an earl now, remember?” Lord Stafford sneered at Emeline. “I don’t have to be courteous. I can act however I please.”
The air was charged with an undercurrent Jo didn’t understand. The earl was scowling at Emeline, and she was scowling right back. Obviously, they were quarreling, but Jo couldn’t figure out why. They weren’t sufficiently acquainted for fighting, and Emeline possessed no status that would allow her to chastise him.
He seemed as if he might offer another rude remark, then thought better of it. He urged his horse forward and circled by them.
Lt. Price hadn’t budged, and when the earl noticed his brother hadn’t followed, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Are you coming or not?” the earl inquired.
Lt. Price gazed at Jo. “Are you on your way home?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t need to trouble yourself.”
“It’s no trouble.” He waved his brother on. “I’m going to accompany Mrs. Merrick to the village.”
“Suit yourself,” the earl said. Then he quipped to Emeline, “What about you, Miss Wilson?”
“What about me?”
“Are you capable of proceeding to the manor on your own? Or do you require an escort?”
“I can get there on my own. I’m used to taking care of myself.”
“Yes, you are, and we’ve already established what a bang-up job you’ve been doing.”
“Nicholas!” Lt. Price scolded, but the earl ignored him and kicked his horse into a trot. He kept on without looking back.
“Ooh, that man!” Emeline grumbled, but she watched him go, unable to wrench herself away.
For an instant, her mask slipped, and Jo witnessed a disturbing amount of unveiled longing.
Was Emeline infatuated? Was the earl? Perhaps there was more to his rescuing her from the market
