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“That is not–”

But she thought better of it. Instead, she sighed and put her arm around her sister’s shoulder, trying to comfort her but knowing that she couldn’t. Sarah, meanwhile, burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t your fault, Emma. I know it isn’t. It is Father’s.”

“It is alright,” Emma soothed. “I understand. This is awful, Sarah, but it will be alright. If you ever truly cannot bear it, you may visit me. You could even stay with me. I am certain that, ifyou have given him a son eventually, he shall let you leave. He does not seem to hold ladies in the highest regard, after all.”

“No,” she chuckled sadly, “no, he doesn’t, does he? Very well. I shall not think about it until we are home. We still have today, and tomorrow is the ball, and I can have one final night of enjoyment before I lose everything forever.”

“Except for your sister,” Emma reminded her. “You shall never lose me.”

“No,” Sarah replied, steadying herself. “I shall never lose my sister.”

Emma could see resolve in her eyes, and though it pleased her to know that Sarah had found some peace in it all, she had to admit that she was very wary of it, indeed.

Sarah was planning something, and Emma intended to learn just what that was.

CHAPTER 14

In spite of Sarah’s brighter spirits, Emma did not speak to the Duke.

Instead, she spent the last of her time at the party leading up to the ball with her friends. She had hardly seen them, and knowing that she would be living several days’ travel away within the year made her desperate to spend some time with them.

Not only that, but there was something she had to ask them, although she was reluctant to do so.

They were sitting in a parlor room, drinking tea and eating cake and biscuits together, when at last Emma decided it was time to speak with them.

“Am I a good friend?” she asked, and all three ladies turned to her.

“Of course!” Beatrice replied. “Why would you think otherwise?”

And so, it all came flooding out of her; her concerns that she was no longer needed, her fears that marriages were going to separate them, her failures as a sister and friend. The words kept spilling from her lips, and by the time she had finished and took a breath her friends were looking at her in astonishment.

“Is that truly how you have been feeling?” Dorothy asked.

“Yes, and I know it is unfair of me to see you all that way, but it is the truth.”

“Then we should have been better friends,” Cecilia said gently. “It shall take more than marriages to divide us, you know. You must also know that your… well, what you share with the Duke, has not changed how we see you. We are pleased for you.”

“There is nothing between the Duke and me, how many times must I say it?”

“When your actions match your words, we shall believe it,” Beatrice teased. “But Cecilia is right. You are still the most wonderful lady we know, and it is a gift to be able to call you my friend. That will not change, be we wives or spinsters or bluestockings.”

She looked directly at Cecilia as she said the last word.

“Yes, yes, I am aware of what you all think of me,” Cecilia laughed. “And that is why I am telling you, Emma, that we do not care. We are a very different group of ladies, certainly, but that doesn’t mean we cannot be friends. I would argue that, when we are old, we shall only have more in common. Our hair, for example, shall be the same color at last.”

Emma laughed, finding comfort in her friends’ words. She had been afraid of losing them, but that was only a fear. It did not make it true, and given how certain her friends were, it was not even a possibility.

“What colors are you all wearing tonight?” Dorothy asked after a while. “My sister has insisted on me wearing this horrid yellow thing. I shall look like a chick, and I have half a mind to squawk accordingly.”

“I will not be allowing that,” Cecilia declared. “I came here with enough gowns for you, and that is how it will be. Your gown for tonight’s ball is a pale blue. Mine is green.”

“Mine is yellow!” Beatrice smiled, “Although I will say it is a gentler shade than what I imagine your sister had chosen for you, Dorothy.”

The three ladies turned to Emma, and she realized that she had not even thought about it.

“I do not know, yet. I suppose I could wear the same as I did to the first one. Nobody will notice.”