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“Oh, the English roads are not the gentlest, I’m afraid,” Olivia chuckled lightly, bringing a brief smile to Emma’s lips. “But every trip is worth it if I get to see you, my dear friend,” Olivia squeezed Emma’s hand reassuringly, her eyes sparkling with genuine affection.

Emma smiled warmly in response, a flush of gratitude coloring her cheeks. “I must confess, I wasn’t expecting you back in town so early.”

“Oh, Aunt Jane couldn’t stay away from the town parties for long,” Olivia winked conspiratorially, her voice lowering to a playful murmur.

“Oh, Lady Amberton is quite the life everywhere she goes, is she not?” Emma laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating slightly in the lightness of their conversation.

“We are privileged to have her,” Olivia responded, her tone laced with fondness and a hint of pride.

“Indeed,” Emma agreed wholeheartedly, recalling her own delightful encounters with the vivacious Lady Amberton.

“As a matter of fact, I came here for two reasons today,” Olivia announced, her expression turning slightly more serious justas their tea arrived. Emma reached out to pour the tea into delicate China cups, the subtle clink of porcelain a comforting background sound.

“We are hosting a small dinner party tomorrow evening, and I came to extend the special invitation to you,” Olivia revealed, her gaze holding Emma’s. “And your family, of course,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

As Emma absorbed the invitation, her thoughts involuntarily drifted to George. Was he also back in town? The question nagged at her, but she restrained herself from asking Olivia directly, not wanting to appear overly eager or interested.

A part of her recoiled at the idea of attending the party. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face George again. As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Emma realized the true nature of her reluctance. She was scared. Scared of seeing him again, scared of the inexplicable and intense longing that surged within her at the mere thought of their reunion.

“George and Alex are looking forward to hosting too,” Olivia added, her tone encouraging, as if sensing Emma’s hesitation.

So he was also back in town, Emma thought, a flicker of something indescribable passing through her. Alexander would indeed relish the chance to host; he always did. But George? Emma harbored doubts. Not when the last words he’d spoken to her painted her as nothing more than a fortune hunter with poisonous ambitions—a painful reminder that stung anew.

This bitter thought cemented her resolve, and Emma swiftly made up her mind. She would not attend the gathering.

“Why, that sounds lovely,” Emma started, her voice faltering slightly as she searched for the right words to convey her regrets without offending. “But I do not think I can make it, for I already have plans for tomorrow evening,” she lied, hoping her excuse sounded plausible.

“Oh, but Aunt Jane is practically dying to see you again, Emma. She’s hosting specifically for you,” Olivia implored, her eyes wide with sincerity. “I want you there too. More than anything,” she added, taking Emma’s hand and squeezing it gently, her plea almost palpable.

Faced with such earnest entreaty, Emma felt her resolve waver. “I suppose I’ll just have to cancel those plans then,” she conceded, unable to resist the genuine desire in Olivia’s eyes.

Her friend’s face lit up with joy at her acquiescence. “Excellent,” Olivia exclaimed, sitting up straighter in her chair, her earlier dismay replaced by delighted anticipation as she happily sipped her tea.

Odd anticipation coursed through Emma now that she had accepted the invitation, realizing that this meant she would see George again. Despite the intensity of their last encounter and his harsh words, a part of her, perhaps foolishly, yearned to see him again.

After Olivia had departed, leaving a swirl of excitement in her wake, Emma sought out her mother to share the news of the invitation. Since it had been extended to the entire family, she assumed their collective attendance was expected.

“The whole family is to attend,” she stated, trying to mask her own eagerness with a tone of casual information.

“You are not going,” her mother countered sharply, her words slicing through the room like a cold draft.

“I beg your pardon?” Emma responded, her voice a mixture of surprise and confusion. The room seemed to tilt slightly, her mother’s words upending everything.

“You heard me,” her mother continued, her tone flat and devoid of warmth. “Your father and I will go alone. Our presence will suffice,” she added, her words final, leaving no room for negotiation.

“But mother—” Emma began, her mind racing for arguments that could sway her mother’s sudden and inexplicable decree.

“You have already been given to the Marquess of Neads, and your engagement will follow soon. You have no reason to make further appearances in society now. Least of all to Firman, and especially not to that DUKE,” her mother interrupted, spitting out the title with a venom that made Emma flinch.

“Surely you do not mean what you say, mother,” Emma implored, her voice tinged with desperation.

“Every word,” Caroline said sternly, her gaze hard and unyielding. “You have no one to blame here but yourself, Emma. If you hadn’t failed at the house party, this would not have occurred,” she finished, her words cutting deeply.

Emma stood, her hopes of mending whatever remained between her and George dashed cruelly by her own flesh and blood. The room seemed colder now, quite like the ice encasing her heart.

“So, are you looking forward to seeing Emma again?” Alex suddenly posed the question to George. It was the evening of Jane’s dinner party, and the two friends had retreated to Alexander’s study for a bit of solitude before their guests arrived.

“What is so special about Miss Lovell?” George attempted to mask his interest, maintaining a tone of indifference as he lit another cigar, offering one to Alex.