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 Thrashed Fitzroy when I returned. The man has no understanding of the morality of the hunt. It is while tracking that the hunter exhibits his true skill. Will not tolerate this practice of baiting on my expedition. Hargreaves suggests we abandon the whole business and explore Mount Kenya. If he meant to amuse me, he succeeded.

2

"So, you see, I am actually quite important," I said in mock seriousness to my dear friend Ivy as we took tea in my well-appointed drawing room the next afternoon. "They sent the head of the entire department to speak to me. Obviously word of my fortune has spread even to the hallowed halls of the British Museum."

"You give yourself too much credit," she retorted with a smile. "Clearly they decided to extend their good opinion of Philip to your humble self. But really, aren't you a bit shocked to learn about Philip's passion for Greece? It's rather interesting of him, I think."

"I hardly know what to make of it," I said, pouring more tea. "He never mentioned anything about it to me."

"I suppose the conversation on your wedding trip focused on very different topics," Ivy said.

"I can't remember that we talked about anything in particular. He wrote in his journal, I suppose cataloging where we were each day, and I read a lot. He was very nice about buying me books."

"Beastly of him to die before you realized he might be fascinating."

"Yes, and terrible of him to settle such a large amount of money on me." I laughed. "Of course, I won't be able to enjoy it at all until I get out of this ghastly mourning." Even as the words came out of my mouth, the color drained from my face. "I don't mean that."

Ivy took my hand. "I know you don't, dear."

"I certainly never thought things would turn out like this. Barely out in society and already a widow."

"Mourning won't last forever."

"I'm not sure that I even mind, Ivy. Consider my life: I live on my own, with my own servants, and have control over my own money. I can do virtually whatever I want."

"Except move about in society just yet."

"No, of course not, but I'm not certain that I really miss any of that. It was vastly diverting for a while, of course, and I had a lovely time making as many men as possible fall in love with me, but think where I would be if I hadn't married Philip."

"You would still be living with your mother and having your waist measured daily."

"Precisely. A fate not to be borne. But now I have a freedom unprecedented in my life. If Philip were still alive, would my life be much different than it was when I lived with my parents?"

"As an unmarried woman, I would hardly dare to comment on married life," Ivy said wickedly.

"Yes, but you'll know soon enough. Two more weeks and we'll be at your own wedding."

"Yes," Ivy said with a sigh. "I don't know what to think."

Davis came into the room and announced two more callers.

"My dear, I am delighted to see you again," Emma Callum said as she crossed toward me, reaching out with both her hands. "It hardly seems that a year has passed since your dear husband's passing. But here we are."

"Yes, here we are," I said, answering her simpering smile with one of my own as I took her hands. "It's kind of you to come. How are you, Arabella?"

"Very well, thank you." The newcomers sat, and Arabella Dunleigh accepted the muffin I offered her.

"I am desperately excited for your wedding," Emma said to Ivy. "Mother tells me Worth made your dress."

"Yes, it's lovely. I'm looking forward to wearing it," Ivy answered, considerably less lively now than she had been before we'd been interrupted.

"I don't know what I shall wear," Emma continued. I didn't believe her; she spent a large portion of her waking hours thinking and talking about her extensive wardrobe. Unfortunately, despite the large expense her father went to in order to dress his only daughter well, her clothing perfectly reflected Emma's own tastes and whims; the result was not attractive. Without fail, she chose garish colors and unflattering styles. Her face, I admit, was lovely, but it was easy to overlook when blinded by the bright yellow of the gown she was wearing. The brown parasol she carried added to the total effect by making her look something like a spindly sunflower. "I'm certain that it won't be long until we're planning my own wedding, and I do want to enjoy myself in the meantime."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," I said, knowing full well Emma was beginning another of her assaults on me.

"You know better than the rest of us the perils of married life, Emily. The role of matron is not nearly as enjoyable as that of belle of the ball. Although I suppose you never really had a chance to settle into being a married woman, did you?"

"No. Philip was kind enough to die before I got really bored," I snapped back. Arabella gasped. "I'm joking, of course, Arabella. Try not to choke on your muffin."

"I'm horrified to hear you speak of your husband that way," Emma said coldly. "Lord Ashton was one of the best men with whom I've been acquainted."

"The noblest man I ever met," Arabella agreed.

"I should think you would take more care to honor his memory," Emma continued, fingering her hideous brown gloves as she spoke.

"I must confess that I am a trifle nervous about my wedding," Ivy interrupted, valiantly changing the subject. "I don't know what to expect as a wife. Robert has always been very kind to me, and my parents are delighted with the match. I'm sure we'll be happy, but I cannot imagine what my life will be like."

"He has a wonderful house," Arabella said, taking another cake off the tea table. "And you're sure to have a generous allowance."

"Ivy's father will ensure that," I said.

"You must listen carefully to everything your mother tells you before the wedding, my dear," Emma said, her tone all seriousness. "There are things about marriage you will find immensely shocking. She will be able to tell you what you need in order to cope and to bear what you must."

"I'm certain it's terrible," Arabella said, her cowlike eyes wide open. "My sister locked herself in her room and refused to come out for three days after her wedding."

"You should never speak of it, Arabella," Emma said, looking at her friend sharply. "It is enough that she be alerted to the situation so that her mother can prepare her."

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. I knew Emma well enough to expect that she would try to insult me whenever the opportunity presented itself; it did not bother me in the least. Ivy, however, being much more sensitive than I am, would not be able to hold her own against Emma's malicious talk.

"We are only trying to help our friend on her way to becoming a good wife," Emma said, her voice sickeningly sweet. "I expect it's difficult for you to think of happy things like love and weddings when you know there will never be joy in your own life again."

"Quite the contrary, I assure you. And, Ivy, I will share with you a piece of advice Philip gave me on our wedding night: Relax. If you manage to, you'll find the entire experience not at all unpleasant." I watched my audience and savored the horrified looks on their faces. Arabella dropped her cake, and Emma rose from her seat.

"I never thought I would hear you speak so crudely, Emily. You are fortunate that Philip is not here to see your disgrace."

"Lord Ashton to you, Emma. I don't believe your acquaintance with the viscount ever reached the point of familiarity."

"I see that despite your wearing half mourning, you really are not ready to receive visitors," Emma said, trying in vain to regain her composure. "We will not trespass any longer on your time." She led Arabella, who was still unable to speak, out of the room. I noticed that she took the last tea cake with her.