work on her investments. But at the rate the Faringdon men went through money, constant attention to finances was essential. Her mother had often explained to Emily that someone had to look after Papa and the twins. Indeed, Mrs. Faringdon had impressed that notion on Emily one last time from her deathbed.
Unenthusiastically Emily pulled the latest issue of The Gentleman's Magazine toward her and opened it to the monthly summary of stock exchange prices. She scanned the daily fluctuation in prices on canal bonds, India bonds, bank stock, and the funds, making a few quick notes to herself before turning the page.
Then she ran her fingertip down the summary of recent prices paid for wheat, rye, oats, and beans in the inland counties and compared them to the prices paid in the maritime counties. Again she picked up her quill and jotted down a comment or two. Next she checked the average prices of flour, sugar, hay, and straw for the preceding month, looking for trends.
When she was finished noting recent prices on commodities, Emily turned to the monthly meteorological table. This she gave only a cursory glance. It was still winter and the daily temperatures and rainfall amounts were not as important to her calculations now as they would be in the spring and summer. In a couple of months she would begin watching them closely in an attempt to anticipate the harvests.
When she had finished gleaning what she could from The Gentleman's Magazine, she turned to her correspondence. Sir Alfred Chumley had news of a new coal mining enterprise and a certain Mrs. Middleton had written to inquire about Emily's interest in a ship that would be leaving soon for the West Indies. It was expected to return with a sizable profit, just as the last one had.
Mrs. Hickinbotham found the Lap Seng.
Emily watched anxiously as Simon took his first sip of the exotic, smoky brew. When he smiled at her over the rim of the cup and gave her a knowing look, she wanted to hug Mrs. Hickinbotham. The housekeeper's eyes sparkled but her expression remained appropriately restrained as she curtsied and left the members of the literary society to their discussions.
Emily had changed her mind three times about which dress to wear before Lizzie finally talked her into the ruff-necked, flounced muslin. The gown was a pale yellow with tiny little white stripes and Lizzie claimed it set off the color of Emily's hair. Emily was not at all certain it was a good idea to set off red hair but Lizzie overrode her mistress's concerns.
The ladies of the literary society had arrived with an air of great expectation. They were growing accustomed to having an earl in their midst these days and his attentions to Emily had not gone unnoticed. The good ladies were all secretly thrilled by the high-minded romance blossoming in their midst and they now greeted Simon with friendly cordiality.
As usual, once seated among them, he looked like a dark, golden-eyed beast surrounded by a bunch of lively, chirping birds. Simon did not appear to mind the contrast. But, then, it was blazingly clear to Emily that the earl was quite unflappable.
The whole event, including refreshments and conversation, went off with such effortless ease that Emily began to suspect she had a heretofore undiscovered talent for entertaining. She really must do more of it, she decided as the discussion became quite lively.
"And how is your poem coming along, Emily?" Miss Bracegirdle asked after they had concluded a spirited debate of the merits of Samuel Coleridge's lectures on Shakespeare. No one present had actually attended the lectures but reports had been widely circulated and the general conclusion was that they were not of the high caliber expected from Coleridge.
"I am working on expanding the verses to include a new adventure," Emily announced. She glanced at Simon and a slight flush warmed her cheeks. "I have a marvelous idea for a scene in a secret passageway."
"How exciting." Miss Ostly, who
Unenthusiastically Emily pulled the latest issue of The Gentleman's Magazine toward her and opened it to the monthly summary of stock exchange prices. She scanned the daily fluctuation in prices on canal bonds, India bonds, bank stock, and the funds, making a few quick notes to herself before turning the page.
Then she ran her fingertip down the summary of recent prices paid for wheat, rye, oats, and beans in the inland counties and compared them to the prices paid in the maritime counties. Again she picked up her quill and jotted down a comment or two. Next she checked the average prices of flour, sugar, hay, and straw for the preceding month, looking for trends.
When she was finished noting recent prices on commodities, Emily turned to the monthly meteorological table. This she gave only a cursory glance. It was still winter and the daily temperatures and rainfall amounts were not as important to her calculations now as they would be in the spring and summer. In a couple of months she would begin watching them closely in an attempt to anticipate the harvests.
When she had finished gleaning what she could from The Gentleman's Magazine, she turned to her correspondence. Sir Alfred Chumley had news of a new coal mining enterprise and a certain Mrs. Middleton had written to inquire about Emily's interest in a ship that would be leaving soon for the West Indies. It was expected to return with a sizable profit, just as the last one had.
Mrs. Hickinbotham found the Lap Seng.
Emily watched anxiously as Simon took his first sip of the exotic, smoky brew. When he smiled at her over the rim of the cup and gave her a knowing look, she wanted to hug Mrs. Hickinbotham. The housekeeper's eyes sparkled but her expression remained appropriately restrained as she curtsied and left the members of the literary society to their discussions.
Emily had changed her mind three times about which dress to wear before Lizzie finally talked her into the ruff-necked, flounced muslin. The gown was a pale yellow with tiny little white stripes and Lizzie claimed it set off the color of Emily's hair. Emily was not at all certain it was a good idea to set off red hair but Lizzie overrode her mistress's concerns.
The ladies of the literary society had arrived with an air of great expectation. They were growing accustomed to having an earl in their midst these days and his attentions to Emily had not gone unnoticed. The good ladies were all secretly thrilled by the high-minded romance blossoming in their midst and they now greeted Simon with friendly cordiality.
As usual, once seated among them, he looked like a dark, golden-eyed beast surrounded by a bunch of lively, chirping birds. Simon did not appear to mind the contrast. But, then, it was blazingly clear to Emily that the earl was quite unflappable.
The whole event, including refreshments and conversation, went off with such effortless ease that Emily began to suspect she had a heretofore undiscovered talent for entertaining. She really must do more of it, she decided as the discussion became quite lively.
"And how is your poem coming along, Emily?" Miss Bracegirdle asked after they had concluded a spirited debate of the merits of Samuel Coleridge's lectures on Shakespeare. No one present had actually attended the lectures but reports had been widely circulated and the general conclusion was that they were not of the high caliber expected from Coleridge.
"I am working on expanding the verses to include a new adventure," Emily announced. She glanced at Simon and a slight flush warmed her cheeks. "I have a marvelous idea for a scene in a secret passageway."
"How exciting." Miss Ostly, who
Similar Books
