Winterly (Dark Creatures Book 1), стр. 36
Not for a moment did Emma imagine it was Winterly himself that had slipped into her room. That was preposterous. Her infatuation, which she was forced to own, was being used against her; a wicked spirit had donned the disguise—the face—of the very man who was a constant fixture in her mind.
Emma fell across her bed with a sigh, running her hands slowly along her nightshift, touching each place that her dream Winterly had explored. Almost immediately, though, she dropped her trembling hand to the side, ashamed. Let the ache of her body serve well to remind her that she must overcome her darker half.
Whatever Winterly’s interest in her, if such interests existed at all, they were not of a romantic nature. He just enjoyed shocking her. The disparities between them were vast: he was of noble birth and exceedingly wealthy, whereas she was neither. Winterly was exceedingly handsome and she was only halfway pretty on her best day…when the sun was not too bright.
Her lack of beauty had never bothered her before and she had never begrudged Milli her winsome face. Her father was right, Emma had been formed for philosophizing and scholarly pursuits. Marriage and romance were Milli’s destiny, not hers, she thought as she leapt out of bed to retrieve her diary. There were a few minutes to spare before she would need to dress for breakfast.
At least Winterly would not be joining them today. According to Victoria, her brother was not residing at his Mayfair address at present. Emma was glad of it, truly she was. Or so she told her diary. Those secret pages were the receptacle into which she emptied her soul of all her fears, greatest wishes, and all her confessions—the theft of a book being the subject of this mornings confessional. This diary bore the anthologies of her heart scrawled in ink and tears.
Once she was done, she bound her diary and tied a pretty knot before hiding it in an old, scuffed bandbox with all the rest of her gimcracks and whatnots. Whether or not she’d confess her thievery to Mary remained to be seen.
It was some hours later before Emma and her sister were in the coach headed to Mayfair. Milli had been quite in the fidgets all morning in anticipation of their departure. One would have thought they were headed off to take tea with the King himself! The coach rattled and tottered along the London streets as Emma leaned her head back to rest her eyes. She hadn’t slept well at all. But at the sound of Milli’s tongue clicking with disapproval, she turned to look a question at her sister.
“Do you never look in the mirror when you dress?” Milli’s lips tightened as she dropped her gaze to Emma’s neck. “Of all the days to smudge yourself with ink! What will Victoria think of you.”
The truth was that she hadn’t checked her reflection this morning, her mind had been burdened with greater matters. In answer to her sister’s reproof, Emma readjusted the little kerchief she’d tucked into her dress. The high neckline was already démodé as it was, she knew that, and the fabric she’d tucked around her throat made it only more so. “I’m sure I don’t care what Miss Winterly thinks.”
“You look ridiculous. Here…” Milli licked her thumb and made to rub her sister’s neck, but Emma forestalled her with a light slap on the knuckles. “Faugh!” Milli folded her arms over her chest and turned away. “You look like great Aunt Hyacinth, I hope you know that.” She was visibly ashamed of Emma and said not another word to her sister.
The silence was not long endured, however, for they arrived in Half Moon Street only moments later and were quickly ushered into the house. The grim butler seemed to hide behind the door, as before, relaxing only once it was shut.
“My dears, how good it is to see you.” Victoria advanced like an exotic princess and gave them each a friendly kiss on the cheek when they entered the drawing room, although her lips lingered overlong upon Milli’s. The curtains were drawn against the sunlight and the lamps were glowing. Victoria was proving to be a very eccentric young woman. “How beautiful you both look.”
Milli blushed and aimed a brief and an inconspicuous scowl at Emma, doubtless thinking Victoria was all politeness. Even Emma admitted she was not worthy of the compliment.
The women availed themselves of the chintz sofa and Victoria and Milli were soon engaged in one of their usual, lively tête-à-têtes. At length the footman and the butler appeared, one carrying a salver of cheese and fruit and the other a tray which bore the silver coffee pot and chinaware. And right behind them came Mr. Valko unannounced. Millli’s hands immediately flew to her hair, patting any wayward strays into place.
“Ah, ladies, good morning.” He spared a quick bow and glanced at Victoria. “I wonder if I might have a quick word, Cousin.”
She offered the sisters an apologetic smile and then rose to follow Mr. Valko from the room. The door was shut firmly behind her.
“I wonder,” said Milli, “what they are talking about.”
Emma hardly heard her sister, beset suddenly by muffled voices seeming to echo in her head.
“They’ve agreed to meet us?”
Emma’s eyes flew wildly about the room. “I’m going mad,” she said.
Milli snorted and pushed a bonbon in her mouth.
“They won’t see Markus or Gabriel, only you.”
“The terms?”
“To be discussed at Vauxhall, tomorrow a week.” The words became disjointed after that. Emma squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “…o’clock…agreed…the younger sister then…”
“Are you listening to me?” Milli waved her hand in front of