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know what you are going to say,” Jane interrupted. “That it is not a true marriage, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a bit of respect.”

Emmeline let out a sigh. “You are right, of course.”

“You will observe that I am rarely wrong,” Jane joked.

Taking a step closer to her friend, Emmeline lowered her voice and asked, “But what can I do? Oliver is my husband.”

Eyeing her closely, Jane remarked, “I have never seen you this despondent.”

“I just can’t help but wonder if Oliver is being faithful as he promised, or if he is lying about that, as well,” Emmeline admitted.

Jane gave her a weak smile, then said, “I wouldn’t trust my brother farther than you can throw him.”

“That wouldn’t be very far.”

“Exactly my point.”

The sound of the butler’s heels on the marble floor caused them to stop speaking and turn their attention towards him.

Coming to a stop near Emmeline, Pratt announced, “Your lady’s maid will be down momentarily.”

“Thank you, Pratt,” Emmeline murmured.

“You are welcome, milady.”

Jane started walking backwards towards the drawing room as she said, “Just remember what I said, Emmeline.”

“I will,” she replied.

“Good. I believe it will save you from much heartache.”

Emmeline glanced over at the main door, hoping that Oliver would make a sudden appearance. But she was not so fortunate.

Her lady’s maid came to stand next to her. “Are you ready to go, milady?”

“I am,” she replied.

As they departed from Hawthorne House, Emmeline took only a moment to admire the elegant black coach emblazoned with the family crest. The footman opened the door and held his hand out to assist her. She accepted his hand and stepped into the coach.

Once she was situated, Mary sat across from her. “Thank you for accompanying me,” Emmeline said.

Mary smiled. “It is my pleasure.”

“I had been hoping Oliver would have accompanied me, but he still hasn’t returned home.”

“I assumed as much,” Mary said softly.

The coach lurched forward as she asked, “What has become of me?”

“You started developing feelings for your husband,” Mary remarked knowingly. “That was a rather large misstep on your part.”

“One should never be in the unfortunate position of having to pine after their own husband.”

Mary nodded. “I would agree.”

“But what can I do about it?”

Pressing her lips together, Mary asked, “May I speak freely, milady?”

“Of course.”

Mary leaned forward and remarked, “You have become a simpering miss around your husband.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You are a strong young woman,” Mary said. “Where is the fight that you had when you went to call on Lord Oliver and asked him to marry you?”

Emmeline’s shoulder slumped slightly. “I don’t know.”

“May I suggest you take the time to remember who you are,” Mary said. “You are not weak, but rather a formidable woman.”

“But I am married now, and I need to be a dutiful wife.”

“Nonsense,” Mary declared. “If Oliver isn’t living up to his vows, then why should you?”

Emmeline nibbled her bottom lip. “I suppose you make a good argument.” She shifted her gaze towards the window and retreated into her own thoughts.

It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of a two-level brick building in the fashionable part of town. The coach dipped to the side as the footman stepped off his perch and put the step down.

Emmeline exited the coach and walked into the building with Mary trailing behind her. She was immediately approached by a lanky man in a tan jacket and matching trousers.

“May I help you?” he asked kindly.

“I am looking for Mr. Clarke.”

The man gave her a polite smile. “If you will follow me, I will show you to his office,” he said as he spun on his heel.

She followed him for a short distance before he stopped by a closed door. “This is Mr. Clarke’s office,” he revealed. “Would you care for me to announce you?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

The man tipped his head in acknowledgement before he walked away from them.

Emmeline approached the door and knocked with her gloved hand. It only took a moment for it to open, and Mr. Clarke stared back at her in disbelief. Her father’s solicitor was a rather unassuming man with thinning brown hair and thick spectacles that sat on a rounded face.

“Lady Oliver,” he greeted, opening the door wide. “Please come in.”

“Thank you,” she murmured as she stepped into the office.

A large window along one wall provided the room with ample light. A mahogany desk sat in front of the window, and upholstered chairs were strategically placed around the room.

“I hope you do not mind that I came unannounced,” Emmeline said.

“Not at all,” Mr. Clarke replied, closing the door. “You are always welcome.”

“I appreciate you for saying so.”

Mr. Clarke went around his desk and gestured at the two chairs facing it. “Would you care to take a seat?”

As Emmeline gracefully lowered herself onto the chair, she explained, “I was hoping to receive some clarification.”

“I would be happy to assist you with that,” Mr. Clarke replied as he sat down and pushed in his chair.

With a side glance at her lady’s maid, Emmeline asked, “Did my father leave me a dowry?”

Mr. Clark nodded. “He did, and it was rather a generous one.”

“Did that money go to pay for my father’s outstanding bills when he died?”

Mr. Clarke gave her a baffled look. “Your father had no bills when he died,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m afraid I am rather confused. My uncle informed me that my dowry went to pay for my father’s outstanding bills.”

“I am not sure why he told you that, since you are now eligible to receive fifteen thousand pounds upon your marriage to Lord Oliver Radcliff,” Mr. Clarke explained. “Your father set up a separate account just for your dowry. The will stipulated that you were to inherit the money on your twenty-first birthday or when you wed, whichever came first.”

Emmeline’s eyes grew wide at that unexpected news. “I was set to inherit fifteen thousand on my twenty-first birthday?”

“You were, but you were wed first.”

She pursed her lips together as she worked to collect herself.

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