I gave a nod and let the smile that Emma so often elicited from me show clearly on my face. She hadn’t seen many smiles in her short life and I never wanted to withhold one from her. I knew all too well what coldness did to a child. My brother and I were examples of just that.
“Miss Emma, you are not of age to attend balls. It is time for your rest. Come now,” Alice said in her typical stern voice.
Emma wasn’t bothered at all by Alice’s tone, giving Alice a sharp frown then turning her attention back to me. “Will you go alone?” Emma asked me.
I nodded my head. “Yes, I will attend alone.”
That seemed to bother her and her frown deepened. “You will be lonely,” she stated.
“His lordship will have many friends in attendance and ladies to dance with, Emma. This is not a child’s concern. It is to the nursery for you.” Alice was still trying to sound as if she were in control when all three of us were aware that she had no control over the child but then neither did I.
“Alice is rude,” Emma replied with a scowl. “She is often rude, Ashington,” Emma told me and I did attempt to hide my smile this time.
“Miss Emma!” Alice exclaimed horrified. “How many times have I told you that you are to address the Earl as Lord Ashington!”
Emma placed one very small hand on her waist and lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know. I can only count as far as ten and sometimes twenty, if I so choose.”
A chuckle escaped me and this time, Alice was frowning at me in disapproval. “If I’m to teach her properly, my lord, we cannot encourage this… this rebellious behavior. It is unacceptable.”
Emma flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and beamed brightly at me. She enjoyed it when I laughed at her antics and when I, in turn, was scolded by Alice.
“She’s only four,” I reminded Alice, feeling rather proud of her intelligence and quick wit at such a young age.
“I question that and her certificate of birth, my lord. She’s much too… advanced and difficult to be so young.”
I had no question of her age. I knew full well the timeline in which her mother must have conceived her. Solange Bisset had once been my mistress for well over a year when we ended our agreement. Emma’s eyes had been the only proof I’d required when she’d arrived on my doorstep a year ago. Seeing them staring up at me, I had known she was a Compton.
“Emma, it’s time you go with Alice to the nursery. I will tell you all about the ball tomorrow over breakfast. How does that sound?”
Her mood brightened and she nodded her head with enthusiasm. I doubted Alice would manage to convince Emma to take a nap today. She was full of energy. Emma turned and headed to the door quickly. “Make haste Alice, I must take a nap.”
Alice glanced at me and the weariness in her eyes was amusing. Emma could keep one on their toes. She needed a mother and of that I was certain. Solange hadn’t been much of a one to her before she left her in the hands of a stranger. I would not allow another Compton child to be treated as I had been in this house. Her illegitimacy, I was working hard to cover up, although I wasn’t certain my lie would hold solid. Not with Emma’s ability to use the English language so well at such a tender age. The child’s memory was incredible and that I regretted simply because there were things I wished she could forget.
The door closed with a soft click and I reached for my drink once more. Emma had changed everything for me. My future especially. There was no longer time for me to waste. The grudge I once harbored for my stepmother was forgotten. The riding accident that had taken her life last year ended any untoward feelings I had toward the woman. The hatred I received from my brother, however, especially after his mother’s death, as if that had been my fault, was of no consequence. Not when I had Emma to consider. When Emma arrived here, I had planned on finding her a good home with a distant relative in the country. A place where she could grow and be trained to be something as ambitious as a Governess.
Within a fortnight of her arrival, I had known she would stay here. There was no sending her away when she could be given the life she deserved. I had a chance to give her a good home, to be raised properly, and I fully intended to do just that. My plan would begin with a proper wife that was willing to accept Emma as my child. Lydia appeared fit for the position. I did hope I was not wrong.
Chapter Three
Miss Miriam Bathurst
I had often read the word “lavishness” and I understood it well enough, but I had not, until this moment, experienced it. The word was an intriguing one that I liked to say aloud for the way it rolled off my tongue, yet being placed in the center of such a description was surreal. My books hadn’t given adequate description to a ball being held at the home of nobility. I realized now that Whitney’s fanciful ideas may hold more truth than I had believed. I was already writing her letter in my head as I took in the entire experience. She would need all the details I could give her. The society balls were something I was determined to give her one day, but for now, I would describe them in a way that she felt as if she were here herself.
Aunt Harriet was beside me and I glanced at her to see if she too were in awe by our surroundings. Her expression didn’t appear to be anything other than typical. She turned her head to smile at me. “And so it begins,” she said then did a small gesture with her hand as if she were offering me a buffet of food to choose from. In truth, I had no idea what we were to do, and this might have been why my mother requested I had a proper chaperone. I was sure Aunt Harriet had no idea what was to happen next either.
“Lady Wellington, I presume?” We both turned at the use of my aunt’s proper title. That was something that often caused her to chuckle and I was thankful she hadn’t done so tonight. The woman in front of us was the Duchess of Rothesborne and tonight’s hostess. Although I had never met her, I had done my studies in preparation for the season.
“Yes, hello,” my aunt began, and I quickly curtsied before she could mess this up. “Your Grace,” I said and my aunt realized her mistake and followed my greeting.
“Your home is lovely,” Aunt Harriet said much too loudly and gave the Duchess a big toothy, gum flashing grin. It was too bright and much too sincere for this setting. My aunt didn’t understand that of course. I added this to the mental letter I was already writing to Whitney.
The Duchess’s intimidating gaze was now on me and I tried not to fidget. “You’re Miss Miriam Bathurst,” she stated as if I needed to be informed. “I have been curious about you.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. I kept my smile in place but said nothing. What was one to say after all?
“You’ll do well,” the Duchess then added. “Enjoy your evening,” she said with a small nod, before moving past us with a gentle swoosh of her skirts.
“I feel mentally exhausted already,” my aunt said under her breath, while continuing to smile much too brightly.
“Indeed,” I agreed.
“Excuse me but I do so hope there is a place left on your dance card,” a gentleman, not much older than myself, said as he stopped before me with a small tilt of his head.
Aunt Harriet nudged my arm and I tried not to wince when she giggled. I doubted very much that this man would be the one to save my family. He was far too young. However, I needed to be seen and hopefully attract the attention of other possible suitors.