Glitter - Abbi Glines Page 0,74

brilliant combination,” she added as she took the seat that was held out for her.

“Hot chocolate please,” she then said in her loud American voice to the servant awaiting her request. Her eyes lit up as they found the pastries already placed on the table. “I shall be too large for my gowns after a weekend here. The sweets have been simply fantastic,” she gushed and beamed at me, before taking two different pastries and placing them before her.

I imagined Emma was equally thrilled with the pastries brought to the cottage this morning. I would need to make my way out there after breakfast to make sure they were ready for their travel back to London. She would be disappointed that she did not get to meet Miriam, but that introduction was of utmost importance and it’s timing was even more so.

“I am pleased to hear you’ve been properly indulged while at Chatwick Hall,” I replied.

“If only I could steal your cook,” she said, before biting into the chocolate croissant in her hand.

“I assure you, we cannot,” Wellington said drawly beside his wife.

Lady Wellington’s eyes shifted toward the door and widened in surprise. Turning my head, I followed her gaze, not prepared for who I found standing there. Although she seemed quite pleased with herself and her smile was plastered on so brightly that I knew she was up to mischief. If only she understood this was not the mischief easily cleaned up or explained.

“Hello,” Emma said in a cheerful voice as she walked into the dining room, her head held high as if she were the lady of the house.

Standing, I glanced at the door, expecting Alice to appear, but she had not yet caught up with Emma it would seem. “Where is Alice?” I asked, unsure how to explain her appearance.

Emma gazed up at me with a challenge in her eyes. “I am not quite sure,” she told me.

That response could mean many things. However, asking her questions in front of company was going to get me nowhere with Emma. “Let’s go to the kitchen,” I told her, but she did not move.

“The sweets are in here, Ashington,” she said, walking toward the table.

She wasn’t going to obey without a scene and it was past the point that I could usher her out without an introduction. Sighing in defeat of the situation, I turned back to my guests. “This is Emma. Emma, this is Lord and Lady Wellington.”

Emma gave them her brightest of smiles. “It is very nice to meet you,” she said then climbed into a chair closest to the pastries and leaned over to pluck one from the tray. “I believe this is jam. What do you think?” she asked Lady Wellington as she held it in her small hand.

“It does look like strawberry jam,” Lady Wellington agreed, watching Emma with curiosity on her face.

“I do love strawberry jam,” Emma said then lowered herself into the chair she had used as a stool before taking a large bite.

“There are few things tastier than a tart filled with strawberry jam,” Lady Wellington agreed.

Emma nodded her head enthusiastically.

“Oh,” Miriam’s surprised tone as she entered the room only made this situation more dire. I had not prepared for this. Emma’s introduction to Miriam was to be something well planned and organized. Throwing her in the face of my company such as this and expecting them to not only accept her but keep her existence a secret was asking too much, I was afraid. Yet it was what I must do. Emma had left me no other choice in the matter.

“Please, have a seat, honey. There are a delicious array of pastries and we have a lovely guest to enjoy them with,” Lady Wellington beamed brightly at her niece.

Miriam walked slowly into the room, casting a gaze my way that wasn’t questioning or confused like one would expect, but more…concerned. Who was it she was concerned for? Me? Herself? Emma?

“Good morning, Emma,” Miriam said, taking the seat beside her and silencing the entire room. One could hear a pin drop, and in that moment, I realized Miriam Bathurst had been keeping her own secret.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Miriam Bathurst

Seeing Emma in the dining room wasn’t what I had expected to see this morning. My walk from the bedchamber to here had been torturous because I was sure my aunt would see the guilt on my face from what had taken place last night between Ashington and me. However, I still could not make