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guests.

Most of the time, when the duke did not have guests, the family took the carriage to Lambsthorpe for services. Today, they sat in the box at the second level of the chapel, looking out over their guests and the betrothed pair sitting near the front of the room.

Emma sat beside Alice instead of in her usual place in the family balcony.

Though several of Alice’s far-flung relations had attempted to obtain an invitation to the wedding—in reality, an invitation to visit the castle of the Duke of Montfort—Alice had not extended a welcome to any of them.

“They couldn’t be bothered with me before I became friends with the ducal family,” she had admitted to Emma the day before. “I am not about to subject Their Graces to any of my family’s hypocritical behavior.”

Quite right. Emma smirked to herself, then glanced up at the balcony to exchange a triumphant smile with Josephine. They had subtly encouraged Alice’s match to Mr. Rupert Gardiner. While neither of them would take credit for the couple’s happiness, they certainly enjoyed seeing it first-hand.

Before she turned forward, lowering her eyes from the balcony, Emma’s gaze caught on Lord Atella’s dark stare.

He sat behind her. Staring boldly at her with his lips pressed tightly together.

She didn’t flinch, but slowly lifted one corner of her mouth in a smile.

He frowned more deeply.

The rector called for everyone to join in song to close the sermon, requiring Emma to face forward once more. Alice’s hand trembled, so Emma took hold and gave her friend a reassuring glance. Outside, the clouds broke, and the already bright white of the room glowed more warmly. Gold accents on the windowpanes shone, and the candlesticks near the altar did the same.

Alice let out a trembling breath and added her voice to the hymn. Emma nodded her approval, then she faced forward.

What must the former governess feel, moments away from joining her life to another? To the man she loved?

Emma let her eyes wander across the aisle to where Mr. Rupert Gardiner sat with his parents, all three in a row, singing with bright eyes and vigor. None could doubt the happiness of the family when it came to welcoming Alice among them. Given the way the younger Mr. Gardiner kept stealing glances at Alice, respectability alone kept him from crossing the room and sweeping her up in his arms.

At last, the time came for the wedding sacrament. As Alice left Emma alone on the bench, a chill swept around Emma. Someone had likely left a door open somewhere in the hall behind, causing a momentary draft. She reached down to the bench to pick up her shawl, only to discover it gone. She frowned and peered down near her feet.

The shawl settled on her shoulders—along with the brief weight and warmth of a pair of hands.

Emma’s breath caught. The shawl had fallen behind her, and Lord Atella had seen her stretching about looking for it. Presuming to cover her shoulders for her, while kind, also struck Emma as bold. She said nothing to him, pulling the Indian wrap tighter about her shoulders. But she sat straighter. Lifted her chin a touch.

The conte hadn’t spoken to her since she’d made her offer to help him the day previous. Granted, there had not been a lot of opportunity for him to do so. But he had glared at her once or twice from across the dinner table. Perhaps he had found her idea insulting. Given that she had practically said he lacked the ability to flirt with Josephine, his offense was fair.

Even if Josephine had an interest in courtship and marriage, a man as solemn as the conte had no hope of winning her. Josie had too much vivacity and energy. She needed someone to match those things in her. And as much as Josie delighted in playing hostess to her father’s guests in tandem with her mother, the young woman had no interest in politics. An ambassador’s wife would never escape the discussion of national laws, tariffs, taxes, borders, and treaties.

Obviously, Lord Atella knew none of those things.

Emma could help Josie by helping Lord Atella. Fulfilling her friendly obligation to Josephine without causing an embarrassing incident for the visiting dignitary.

If he’d only let her.

The rector placed Alice and Rupert Gardiner under their wedding vows and pronounced them husband and wife. Alice’s pink cheeks and bright eyes swept upward to where the duke and duchess sat with their family, and she offered them a deep curtsy while her husband bowed. Then they walked down the aisle together, arm-in-arm, past all the guests and the small organ in the back. Everyone else rose to follow the happy couple into the dining hall, where a wedding breakfast fit for a king and his bride had been laid out at the duchess’s command.

It was a generous gesture from the duke and duchess, bestowing that honor upon a friend and his new bride. It immediately set up Alice, the new Mrs. Gardiner, for great social success. Should she wish it.

Emma walked along behind the other guests filtering out of the chapel, watching the people ahead of her and trying to ignore the man behind her.

Except they somehow wound up seated at the table together. The seating arrangements were informal, with everyone present for the wedding taking the place that pleased them best. Alice glanced over at Lord Atella, watching as he lifted lids off of platters to ascertain their contents.

“Miss Arlen. We have some sort of jelly here, sweet rolls, baked ham…?” He glanced at her, uncertain of something in one of the dishes.

Perhaps he hadn’t learned all the English words for different foods. “A little of everything except the jelly, please.”

He served her before filling his own plate with a light repast. Then he ate quietly, the elderly gentleman at his other side more inclined to talk to his neighbor than give the ambassador much notice. Emma glanced to her other side to find Lady Rosalind and Lady Isabella

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