Something About Emmaline by Elizabeth Boyle

Author:Elizabeth Boyle [Boyle, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance, General, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Historical, England, Regency
ISBN: 9780739448687
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2004-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

E mmaline dashed upstairs to find a simple shawl to toss over her gown, as well as her straw bonnet, but then Mrs. Simmons came hustling in to help her, and protested her choices most vehemently.

“My lady, if Lady Rawlins saw you leave the house dressed so, she’d be over to ring a peal over my head for a good hour, laying in or no.” Then the old busybody got a sly look on her face. “Besides, don’t you want the master to see you in your new things?” With that, the housekeeper pulled out an exquisite buttercup carriage dress, a beribboned and flowered poke bonnet and an elegant lacy shawl.

Emmaline’s protests that the dress was too fancy for a mere trip to the park were met with deaf ears as Mrs. Simmons pinned and tied her into it.

“There now, my lady,” the housekeeper mused, like a shameless mother hen, pushing her toward the door. “You look as pretty as a picture. Won’t you just turn his lordship’s head.”

Emmaline slanted a glance at her. Not Mrs. Simmons as well?

Still, despite the housekeeper’s assurances, it was with some trepidation that she went out on the front steps and awaited Sedgwick’s verdict.

He came forward, a wide grin on his face, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. For a man who wasn’t supposed to be charming her, he was doing a good imitation, as he led her down the steps with all the attention and respect a gentleman afforded his ladylove.

When she quirked a brow at him, he drew closer and said, “For Simmons’s sake. I’d hate for him to be disappointed in us after he went to so much trouble.”

Emmaline grinned at him. “Mrs. Simmons, as well.”

A picnic, she discovered, at least a Sedgwick picnic, was no hastily produced basket of soggy morsels and stale treats, but a feast that could sustain a battalion.

Mrs. Simmons’s basket was a huge affair that took up the entire tiger’s seat, along with a long slender case, containing what, she couldn’t fathom. In addition to all this was a stack of blankets and pillows, along with military-style furniture, folded and organized neatly, tied to the rear of the carriage. No doubt leftovers from the twentieth baron’s military campaigns with Howe.

“Is there room for us?” Emmaline asked as she surveyed the overladen phaeton. Heavens, how long could a picnic take? It looked like he was packing for a trek to the wilds of Scotland.

“Of course,” he said. “The afternoon awaits us.” He led her to her side of the high flyer, the kind of expensive phaeton that only the dabbest hands drove.

Emmaline eyed the dangerous conveyance with suspicion. She’d never ridden in such a sporting vehicle. And when the horses started to prance and snort impatiently in their traces and the entire thing swayed dangerously, she wasn’t too sure she wanted to get aboard.

“Do you know how to drive this…this monstrosity?” she said from the safety of the last step.

He turned to her. “Lady Sedgwick, never question a man’s skill with his cattle.

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