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Heath’s heart clenched. That damned magistrate. He truly would toss the man from Danby’s tallest turret if it came to that. He hadn’t even known he was missing anything in his life, hadn’t realized how empty his heart was, until Emma had summoned him to the castle. And now that he did know, he wasn’t about to lose her to an imaginary fiancé or some self-important magistrate. “Thank you for the advice, Your Grace. I believe I will do that very thing.”

The duke actually smirked and a twinkle lit his dark eyes. “I usually frown on people running in my corridors, but in your case, you really should hurry along, Heathfield.”

Thank heavens Heath still remembered the layout of the castle from his earlier years spent with the Whittons. He dashed down one corridor and rounded a corner until he came upon the duke’s formal drawing room. But he was too late.

He scanned the small crowd, only to discover Emma was not amongst their numbers. And neither was Sir Thomas Mason. Where the devil were they?

“Ah, Heathfield!” boomed Lord Norland. “We thought you must have gotten lost.”

Heath feigned a smile for the marquess’s benefit. “Just got distracted, sir.” He glanced around the room once more, making certain he hadn’t missed Emma somewhere, even though that would be impossible with the way his eyes always found her. “I, uh, was hoping to have a word with Lady Emma.”

Across the room, Miss Mason snorted.

“Sir Thomas offered to escort her to the portrait gallery just a moment ago,” Norland replied.

Had he, indeed? And Norland had just let his daughter stroll away with that damned magistrate? Heath couldn’t prevent his hand from curling into a fist.

“But I’m certain she’ll be back soon,” the marquess continued.

“Yes.” Damien clapped a hand on Heath’s back. “Lady Norland insisted she accompany them as well.” A look of warning flashed in his friend’s eye, to which Heath could only interpret as‘Unclench your hand and don’t smash your fist into Norland’s face. Are you a bloody idiot?’

Damn it all, hewasa bloody idiot. Hadn’t Danby just told him so? Heath cleared his throat. “I see. Perhaps I’ll just find their little party then.”

“Is something wrong?” Norland asked, his brow furrowed as he stepped closer to Heath and Damien.

“Of course not.” Heath tried his hardest to sound nonchalant. “I simply remembered something Drew penned in his letter that he wanted me to relay to Lady Emma. How poor of me to have forgotten.”

On the settee, Lady Isabel nearly choked. Heath’s gaze shot to Emma’s twin. Ah, so she knew the letter was a fake too, did she? He dared her to call him a liar, as doing so would reveal whatever ruse the two of them had concocted.

“Isabel, are you all right?” her father asked.

The lady nodded quickly. “Just surprised Drew would send a message to Emma in such a circuitous fashion.” Her brown eyes shifted to Heath. “I’m certain she’d love to know whatever message our dear brother sends. Do you know where the gallery is, my lord?”

“Indeed, I do.” Heath started for the threshold without another look back.

* * *

How was Emma to get Sir Thomas to kiss her if Mama wouldn’t let her have a minute alone with the man? That question rolled around in her mind as they traversed the corridors of the castle. She’d have to distract her mother. That was the only answer. But how? How? How?How?

An idea popped in her head just as they entered the portrait gallery. If she could get Mama’s attention turned to Izzy, as it often was in frustration, she could be free of her mother’s watchful eye. Heaven help her when Izzy learned of her plan. Emma would have to fall on her knees and beg forgiveness of her sister, but what other choice did she have?

“Mama—” she began, but was interrupted by the arrival of Betsy, one of the castle’s maids.

“Lady Norland.” The maid rushed forward. “Vicar Whitton and Miss Louisa have just now arrived.”

Sir Thomas cocked his head in Emma’s direction, a question in his eyes.

“My uncle and cousin,” she explained quietly, though she hadn’t seen either in a very long time.

“A day early.” Mama heaved a sigh. “Thank you, Betsy. I’ll be right there to greet them. Please make certain their chambers are prepared. They must be exhausted after their journey.”

“Yes, milady.” Betsy scurried off to do the marchioness’s bidding.

Mama shook her head. “What would inspire that man to arrive a night early?”

Emma shrugged. She didn’t know her uncle terribly well. Certainly not well enough to answer that question.

“He and Norland don’t even get along,” her mother grumbled.