Page 1 of The Unfortunate Debutante
Prologue
England, 1813
Miss Emma Pearson’sblack dress billowed around her legs as she stood at the edge of her parents’ graves. She could not stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks. She was alone now. There was no one to protect her from the harsh realities of being a young woman with little income. Her dreams vanished the moment she buried her father.
Her eyes shifted towards the plot of land next to her father’s. The headstone readDavid Ernest Pearson.The Marquess of Downshire had been gracious enough to send her brother’s body back to be buried in their ancestral cemetery and even sent along a marble headstone with David’s birth and death dates carved into the stone. David had been an agent of the Crown and was killed while on assignment in Scotland. A sob escaped her lips because his death hurt the most. He had been her best friend, her confidante. What was she going to do without her brother? How was she going to survive?
After her mother died five years ago, Emma was sent off to boarding school, and she’d only just returned when her father had unexpectedly fallen ill. Her father was a constable, but he also owned a general store in the small village of Totternhoe. To her, he seemed unbreakable, and her heart had become saddened as she watched him withering away.
She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. Crying wouldn’t accomplish anything. She had to pick up the pieces of her shattered life and begin anew. Somehow, she was going to survive this and become stronger because of it. But first, even though it would do no good, she was going to allow herself the privilege of crying.
Walking through the tall grass mingled with red poppy flowers gently blowing in the wind, Emma put her hands down and ran her fingers through the soft, green blades. Her two-level, thatched roof cottage came into view, and she forced herself to smile. She could count her blessings amidst her trials and hope she could eventually find joy again. At least she had a home to live in.
As she drew closer, Emma saw a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and stern features knocking at her door. He was finely dressed, as was the beautiful, blonde-haired woman standing next to him.
She wiped away the last of the tears from her cheeks as she increased her stride. “May I help you?” she asked, stopping a few yards away.
“Is this the home of Constable Pearson?” the man inquired.
Emma forced down the lump in her throat. “I am sorry to be the bearer of sad tidings, but my father passed away over a week ago.” She glanced mournfully over her shoulder. “I have just come from visiting my parents’ graves.”
His eyes searched hers knowingly. “Are you Emma, by chance?”
“I am,” she replied. “Were you friends of my father’s?”
“No, we were friends of your brother, David,” he responded with a shake of his head.
A genuine smile came to her lips. “Please, do come in.” She brushed past them and opened the door, leaving it open.
“May I offer you some refreshment? I know we have tea, but I am not sure where it was left,” she shared over her shoulder.
“Why is that?” the woman asked in a polite voice as she followed her into the dirty kitchen.
“After my father died, our housekeeper left because I didn’t know how I was going to pay her wages,” she admitted reluctantly as she searched through nearly empty drawers.
“She left you?” the man asked with a frown.
Emma froze, and her eyes grew wide at his tone. Perhaps she had been too hasty in letting these strangers into her home. After a moment, her gaze transferred to the woman, and she found herself relaxing at the kindness visible in her eyes.
“I do have some money, but she urged me to keep it since she had already found suitable work in the village,” Emma explained.
“My apologies for my tone,” he expressed. “My wife has stated, on more than one occasion, that I can come across as boorish.”
Good, he’s married, she thought, as she continued her search. “I’m afraid I did not catch your names.”
“I am Luke, and this is my wife, Rachel,” he informed her, smiling, as he sat down on a wobbly, wooden chair.
Emma wanted to giggle as she saw Luke struggle to remain seated on the rickety chair.
“And what of your family? Do you plan to live with them?” Rachel inquired, the concern evident in her voice.
Turning around with a jar of tea leaves in her hand, Emma shook her head sadly. “I am afraid I have no other relations to speak of.” She placed the jar onto the table, her voice becoming strained. “I am very much alone in this world, and I must accept my fate.”
Blinking away her emotions, she removed her straw bonnet and placed it on the cluttered table. “How did you know my brother?” she asked as she started to heat the water over the hearth.
Rachel sat down near Luke as she explained, “David was assigned to protect me…”
Her words were stilled as the kitchen door was thrown open, and Peter Lockhart walked into the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that she had guests.
