A Valentine Wedding Read Online Free

last.

Chapter Two
    “This is really a very superior house, Emma.” Maria untied her bonnet strings and nodded her satisfaction as she looked around the large first-floor salon. “The rooms are such a good size and the furnishings quite above the general run. I was so afraid you might be melancholy, my dear, at finding yourself residing in meagre accommodations, after what you’ve been used to. Grantley House is such a distinguished mansion, and Grosvenor Square such a perfect address.”
    She gave a little sigh, and placed her bonnet on a chair. “But this is really a very pleasant house. And Mount Street is a most convenient location.”
    “I’d live in a chicken shed if it was the only means to get away from Aunt Hester.” Emma drew off her York tan gloves. “The woman’s pure poison.”
    “I must say I don’t find her very good-natured,” Maria agreed rather more moderately.
    Emma smiled at her. “You on the other hand are asaint, Maria. How you managed to bite your tongue when she sniped at you, I really don’t know. I wish I could have done the same,” she added a touch regretfully. “It would have been so much more dignified to have maintained a cool silence, instead of plucking crows with her all the time. And it does make it very unpeaceful for poor Uncle Grantley.”
    “Well, my dear, you always did have a quick temper,” Maria said comfortably. “And dear Ned too. He would never stand quiet if he thought there was an injustice.”
    “No.” Emma’s smile was tinged with melancholy now. In search of distraction, she walked to the long windows overlooking the street below. “What a commotion! The post chaise is still blocking the street while they’re unloading our baggage, and there’s a dray behind it with a very irate driver.” She went into a peal of laughter. “I don’t know what he’s yelling, but I’m sure it’s far from polite. John-coachman looks ready to mill him down.”
    “Oh dear. What a vulgar scene.” Maria shook her head. “London is such a noisy, dirty place.”
    Emma chuckled but said nothing. For all such protestations, Maria loved being in town for the season. She was a highly sociable creature for whom the endless round of callers and calling, of shopping and parties, even the insipidities of Almack’s, were meat and drink.
    She was a distant relative of Emma’s father, whose husband had died and left her with a very small competency, not enough to maintain the lifestyle to which she’d been accustomed. Emma’s own mother had died when her daughter was fourteen, and Emma’s father had invited Maria Witherspoon to act as hostess and chaperone his daughter when she made herLondon debut at eighteen. Maria had been delighted at such a generous offer and the prospect of returning once more to the vigorous social whirl of the wealthy and wellborn, and when Emma’s father died, she had become Emma’s permanent companion.
    It was an arrangement that suited them both. While Maria was not clever, she knew everyone, had impeccable connections, and was ideally suited to the task of chaperoning a young and wealthy heiress in society. She was good-natured and easygoing, and since she would never dream of attempting to influence Emma’s opinions or actions, they got on very well.
    “I’ll go and make sure the boxes and trunks are set in the right rooms,” Maria said now. “You’ll have that nice big bedchamber at the back, Emma dear, and I’ll take the one at the front.”
    “Nonsense. You know you’re a light sleeper. You won’t sleep a wink if you’re overlooking the street,” Emma said. “I’d sleep like a log in a barn, so you take the back one.”
    Maria hesitated only a minute, then with a murmured, “So good of you, Emma dear. So thoughtful,” she hurried out.
    Emma remained at the window. The altercation between her own coachman and the driver of the dray was growing ever more heated, and quite a crowd was gathering. John-coachman was a burly man,