thing to do? The best way to aid her family? The stakes seemed so high—a life spent with a man. Did she dare trust someone else with her family’s well-being?
“I’m sure all this must be overwhelming but keep your mind on the end goal,” the viscountess suggested.
Rather than bringing comfort, her words only made Emma further question her goal. “Do you truly think there is any hope of this plan succeeding?”
“How will we know if we don’t try?” The viscountess took Emma’s hand. “Besides, I believe it will be quite delightful once you give the proper effort to our plan. If you’re not enjoying something, it’s not worth doing.”
Based on the fluttery feeling in her stomach, she was not enjoying herself. Nor had her life thus far allowed her such an indulgence.
“New experiences can be daunting, but they help us grow, don’t you think?” Viscountess Weston smiled warmly. “If nothing else, you’ll keep me company for the next few weeks, have some new experiences, and then return home.”
Put like that, it sounded so easy. Why was she making it difficult? What could go wrong?
Unbidden, Michael’s image came to mind. Those blue eyes of his studying her with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe, as though he was seeing her for the first time.
He was what could go wrong. Or rather, her growing feelings for him could go wrong. Putting her trust in anyone other than herself was the one thing she’d sworn never to do. She reminded herself that Michael had so easily abandoned them before. This time was no different. He was merely a passing light in her life. She had to guard herself from becoming dependent on him, from allowing her past feelings for him to grow into the present or worse, the future.
That was what could go wrong.
“No one will force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
She looked at the viscountess, her warm smile and confident manner easing Emma’s worries. “Thank you. I’m sorry to seem so uncertain.”
“Nonsense, my dear. It’s to be expected when one is thrown into a new situation. Now then, we shall begin. Madame Drusell is here for the final fittings. If one of the gowns can be ready, there’s a small ball I’d like to attend tomorrow evening.”
Emma ignored her suddenly pounding heart and reminded herself why she was doing this. She might meet a man she could come to care for. He might be able to help her and her family.
“That sounds lovely.” She might as well begin this masquerade. The sooner she met someone, the sooner she could aid her family. She need only take this one step at a time.
~*~
Vincent Simmons awoke with a gasp. Heart pounding, he blinked as he glanced around the unfamiliar room, uncertain where he was or how he’d come to be here. Was this hell? Or worse, purgatory? Somehow, he thought he’d feel different in the afterlife. Instead, he simply felt as though he’d had too much to drink the night before. His thoughts were sluggish, his body heavy, his mouth full of cotton. A massive pounding beat a steady rhythm in his skull.
“You’ve decided to rejoin the living at last?” The raspy voice of his uncle sounded all too familiar.
Vincent jerked upright, remembering his last thought—that his uncle had killed him. “I’m not dead?”
“No. You just had a rather long sleep. One of the side effects, I’m afraid.” Uncle Joseph drew near the bed, his damaged face clearly visible in the pale light.
Vincent looked away, still uncomfortable with the sight. The last thing he remembered was his uncle visiting him in prison. He put a hand to his aching head. “What happened? What did you do?”
“An experiment really. I gave you a bit of this and a bit of that. Something to slow your heart rate so the prison doctor would declare you dead.”
“Dead?” The very idea terrified Vincent.
“Describing it as a deep sleep would be more appropriate. It was enough to fool the guards and the doctor. Your body
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