“The hurriedness of the affair is only going to make people even more interested,” Sophie added. “It adds a touch of scandal and intrigue. And romance, of course.”

“I see,” Emma said weakly. “But I think Alex wanted a small affair.”

“Oh, pish!” Eugenia said dismissively. “I am his mother, and I don’t care what he wants. My son only has a wedding once in his lifetime, and I intend to enjoy it.” Eugenia sat back, and Emma decided that there was no point in further protests.

And, indeed, she didn’t argue for the next week, letting herself get carried along on the wave of wedding preparations. The only break she got—besides sleep, which she wasn’t getting enough of— was when Ned marched into the parlor and forcibly stole her away from her bevy of current and future female relatives. “We,” he announced, “are going for a ride.”

Emma was only too glad to escape, and the two of them took the carriage out to a popular shop for tea and cakes.

“I wanted to tell you what happened with Wood-side,” Ned said as soon as they were settled at their table.

“Oh my goodness,” Emma breathed. “I almost forgot! What happened?”

“He tried to collect the debt on Friday at White’s.”

“And?”

“And I told him that I certainly wasn’t going to pay my gambling debt twice.”

Emma clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Ned, you didn’t!”

“I did. He got all flustered and started to make a scene until I pulled the voucher out of my pocket. I raised my eyebrows and asked him how on earth I could have gotten the voucher back if I hadn’t already paid my debt.”

“He must have been furious.”

“That, my dear cousin, is an understatement. I thought he was going to explode. And everyone heard what happened. I don’t think he’ll be accepted at respectable card games for years.”

“Oh, this is brilliant,” Emma said. “You know, I think I must be developing a vindictive streak because I’m really enjoying his distress.”

“How unladylike of you,” Ned teased. “But seriously, Emma. He was really angry. I think we might want to watch out for him. He’ll want revenge.”

Emma took a sip of her tea. “Really, Ned, what can he do to us? Spread rumors? No one will believe him.”

“I don’t know. I just think we should be careful.”

“Careful, maybe. But worried? I don’t think so. He’s not exactly the murderous type.”

“Oh really?”

Emma shook her head as she raised her eyes heavenward. “He’s far too fastidious.”

Chapter 21

Before Emma could catch her breath, she found herself at Westonbirt, watching as over a hundred workmen and servants put the finishing touches on what must have been the most hastily arranged wedding in decades. Caroline and Eugenia were in their element, and Emma had to admit that they had performed no less than a miracle. Caroline often remarked that she could have done better if she’d had a little more time, which made Emma laugh because the arrangements far exceeded anything she had ever dreamed of back in Boston.

After some good-natured bickering by Sophie and Belle over blue and peach, Emma finally declared that mint green would reign as the color of the day, which turned out to be a wise decision because both women looked perfectly marvelous in their gowns.

But it was the bride who would capture everyone’s heart. At her final fitting for her wedding dress, Belle had gasped and said that she had never seen Emma looking quite so beautiful. The gown was a slightly old-fashioned style, with the waist where it was supposed to be rather than following the latest rage, which dictated that it be located right under the bust. Emma liked the new style and had many dresses cut that way, but she declared that it just wouldn’t do for a wedding dress. Madame Lambert had agreed instantly and had fashioned a sumptuous gown of ivory silk with a modest neckline that just barely grazed her shoulders, long tight-fitting sleeves, and layers of underskirts that made the dress billow out gracefully from Emma’s waist. Emma had decreed that the gown be kept relatively simple, and so no jewels or bows adorned it.

The result was breathtaking. The cut flattered Emma’s small frame, emphasizing her small waist and the elegant line of her throat. But it was the color of the silk that really did the trick. Emma had started out with her heart set on white, but Madame Lambert had refused and insisted on ivory. She was absolutely right; the new material set off Emma’s complexion perfectly, and she positively glowed.

Although it might just have been love.

Still, Emma decided, the dress helped.

Finally, the day of the wedding arrived, and Emma awoke with at least three dozen butterflies in her stomach. Then, as if on cue, Belle bounded into her room and without any preamble asked, “Are you nervous?”

“Dreadfully.”

“Good. You’re supposed to be nervous, you know. Marriage is a very big step, after all. It’s probably the biggest event in a woman’s life. After being born, of course, and dying, I suppose, but—”

“That’s enough!” Emma bit out.

Belle smiled devilishly.

“You fiend,” Emma muttered, swatting her cousin with a pillow.

“I ordered up some morning chocolate,” Belle said. “It should be here any minute. I didn’t think you’d want to eat anything more substantial this morning.”

“No,” Emma agreed softly, gazing out the window.

Belle took in her serious expression and immediately asked, “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”