Page 105 of The Unfortunate Debutante
“You were telling us how Lord Downshire became your guardian,” her grandmother prodded.
“Lord Downshire became my guardian because he and David had become friends during that time in Scotland,” she explained vaguely. “David had also grown close to Rachel.”
“I see,” Sir Alymer murmured. “Has Lord Downshire treated you well?”
“Oh, yes!”
“Well, we will be forever grateful that he kept you away from that vile Peter Lockhart,” Sir Alymer said. “When I received the missive that you two had married, I felt sick to my stomach.”
“We were never married,” Emma assured him.
“That’s good,” her grandfather said. “We’ll send a carriage around to collect your trunks from Lord Downshire’s estate.”
“Pardon?”
Sir Alymer’s face grew expressionless. “I assume that you will want to live with us from now on, since we are your only family.”
“No, I prefer to stay at Lord and Lady Downshire’s townhouse,” Emma said politely, but firmly.
“I will grant that request… for now,” her grandfather responded. “Which brings us to a ticklish matter.”
“Alymer… don’t,” Betsey warned through clenched teeth.
Crossing his arms over his chest, her grandfather expressed, “I have no choice but to bring it up.” He lifted his brow at Emma. “You are betrothed to the Earl of Gunther.”
“Absolutely not,” she replied forcefully. “I am marrying Simeon.”
Sir Alymer shrugged. “The contract was signed years ago, which is why I was relieved to hear you didn’t elope with Lockhart. That would have surely negated the contract.”
Simeon started to respond, but she put her hand on his sleeve to stop him. This was her fight, not his.
“My answer is no. I am marrying Simeon.”
Sir Alymer looked at her like she was a fool. “Then I will be sued for breach of contract.”
“So be it,” she challenged.
His eyes narrowed. “You are an impertinent little thing…”
“Have you posted the banns yet?” her grandmother asked, speaking over her husband.
Simeon cleared his throat. “Yes, we have. We are having an engagement ball next week. You will receive an invitation shortly.”
“I can’t wait,” Betsey declared.
“The Duchess of Remington is hosting the ball,” Simeon informed the group.
Emma turned her astonished gaze towards him. “Truly?”
“Truly,” he repeated, nudging her shoulder with his. “The night will be full of surprises.”
“I can’t wait,” she replied, smiling over at him.
Her grandfather’s annoyed drawl broke up their private interlude. “Lord Wentworth, may I ask what your annual income is?”
Emma’s mouth dropped. How could her grandfather be so bold as to ask that question?
Unperturbed, Simeon answered, “I own Martin Trading Company, and I do not lack for income.”
