Free Pretty Poison by Lynne Barron Page B

smile. “That means a lot coming from the most determined woman I know.”
    “We’re sure to butt heads in the next two weeks,” Margaret said as she released Emily and watched her rise.
    “We might even come to blows,” Emily agreed.
    “I will cease trying to see you married off,” Margaret offered.
    “In exchange for?” Emily asked.
    “Your promise that you will try to behave as the proper lady I know you are under all your vulgar American ways.”
    “Oh, Maggie, do I have to?” Emily replied and then dove out of the way of the pillow her aunt tossed at her.
    “Have your bath, dinner is in an hour.” Margaret rose on creaky knees and embraced her niece before pushing her away. “Good Lord, child, you smell like sweaty horse!”
    “I’m a stable hand,” Emily reminded her aunt.
    “Do not say that in front of my guests.”
    “How many of them saw me in my breaches?” Emily asked as she walked her aunt to the door.
    “Too many. But I don’t think anyone recognized you. These months in the country have done you good, put some meat on your bones and a healthy glow to your skin. You look nothing like the gaunt girl you were in London.” Margaret opened the door and walked out into the hall before turning back. “It’s my hope that if you dress carefully no one will recognize you as the hoyden who walked into the stable yard in breaches.”
     

Chapter Eight
     
    It was apparent to Emily that Aunt Margaret’s hopes were in vain the moment she stepped into the parlor to be greeted by whispers and titters behind open fans.
    Tilly had done her best to arrange Emily’s hair into a neat chignon at the nape of her neck but already a few wayward curls had escaped her coiffure to trail over her shoulders and down her back. She’d chosen a demure gown of warm cream silk with a high bodice that covered her shoulders and most of her chest, hiding her scar from prying eyes. The gown was cinched tight under her breasts with a bronze ribbon that trailed down to her hem. The same ribbon decorated the prim neckline and the small cap sleeves that left her tanned upper arms bare. Silk gloves dyed the same warm bronze hue encircled her arms to the elbow.
    Her father rose from his seat before the fire and hurried across the room to wrap one beefy arm around her waist.
    She could feel a dozen pairs of eyes upon her and pasted a smile on her face. Let them judge her, she cared nothing for their convoluted strictures and would soon be gone from their midst.
    Nicholas Avery rose from his place on the long settee dominating the room. Emily vaguely recognized the pretty woman with wispy blonde hair and silver eyes who sat beside him. The gentleman who’d been seated on her other side was Nicholas’s brother, Mr. Oliver Avery. She remembered meeting him at that fateful ball. The brothers’ resemblance was startling. They could almost be twins but for the more rugged lines of Nicholas’ face and the two inches he stood over his brother.
    The other gentlemen in the room who had been seated immediately rose to their feet. Da walked her around the room introducing her to this group and that, until finally they came to the Avery clan.
    “Well, there she is,” Viscount Talbot greeted with a hearty laugh. “The very lady we’ve been discussing.”
    “Oh?” Emily smiled at the man who, but for her own idiocy, might have been her father by law.
    “We were wondering if you were in attendance,” he bellowed as if she was deaf. Emily wondered what story Margaret had offered for her niece’s hasty disappearance from London. An illness that affected her hearing perhaps?
    “Of course she’s in attendance,” her father roared. “Where else would she be?”
    Emily smiled at the two boisterous gentlemen who seemed intent on out shouting one another.
    She turned her head to find Nicholas staring at her. She gave him a rueful smile. In the stables she’d been a mess of tangled hair and sweaty horse odor. And still he’d kissed