Forbidden: A Regency Box Set

Different.

Bright eyes that lightened when she had something exciting to tell Emma and couldn't keep it a secret. Lately, that had occurred more and more frequently.

"I do. Truly amazing. Hold still. I'll put this in your hair." Emma wanted to envy Trudy. A coming out party. A ball. A whole life in front of her. Then again, her own life would begin in a few days as well. When she could go home to her father and sister. A time she'd prayed for and looked forward to every day since she had begun worked for Mr. Dodsworth.

Not liking the fact that her mood had soured, Emma threw her shoulders back and tilted her chin slightly. A sullen ninny she refused to be! Instead, she would be brave. She wouldn't dwell on the past. Especially not now. Not when things were so close to being over.

Not every girl needed to go to balls and dance with her prince.

Emma couldn't help but smile, though she struggled against the constricting of her chest again, as she watched Trudy in the mirror. I won't be sad… I won't be sad… I refuse to be sad, she repeated to herself, praying she would believe it soon. Envy wasn't her normal attitude, and she very much disliked it.

While Trudy sat in a chair with the fabric of her emerald green dress billowing out in all directions, Emma attempted to put a rose she'd picked from the garden into Trudy's fiery hair.

"Hold still." She giggled despite herself. Trudy really was one of those girls who could light up a room. A sweet girl. The total opposite of her father who could be kind at times, but there was always something secretive about him. Something Emma could never place. Something she wouldn't miss when she went back home to Enhurst.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to sit still." And she did. She tried, but her excitement made her feet shake first… then her knees…. then her hips… in a few seconds, her entire body shook to some sort of rhythm and to a tune only Trudy could hear.

"This won't work unless you stop." Emma laughed, fighting to slide the stem of the red rose into Trudy's matching hair. There. It would have to do. Getting Trudy ready was fun, but it took away from her other chores — and, thanks to Mr. Dodsworth, Emma had plenty.

Though the Dodsworths were rich, they didn't have many servants. Possibly, as a way for stingy Mr. Dodsworth to keep more of his wealth. Less workers meant less wages. Of course, it meant more work for Emma, Elizabeth, and Miles — the only servants in the entire household. Emma was both the lady's maid and the chambermaid. The only other maid in the home, the housekeeper, was Elizabeth — a woman not two years Emma's senior. Rules of polite society dictated Emma should call her Mrs. Elizabeth, though the girl wasn't married. It was of no consequence: Emma never could bring herself to do it. It would almost be as strange as calling Trudy Miss Gertrude. She shivered at the unpleasant thought.

Imagine if someone called her Miss Emma. She scoffed and shook her head. Maybe in her dreams. Maybe when she got back to Enhurst and forgot all about this time of her life. Maybe when she could be the Baron's Daughter and not some lowly house servant. She'd miss Trudy and Elizabeth — and Miles in a small way, but she wouldn't miss having to work for someone else to pay for a debt not hers. Perhaps if she went far away, no one would know of her servant past.

Perhaps if it were far enough away — Ravenston or even Everdale.

Emma's mind wandered, and she could picture sitting in a chair like the one Trudy occupied, with a maid helping her get ready for her coming out party — or one of the many balls. She'd wear a blue dress, for it was her favorite color and matched her eyes so well. Her maid would put one of her mother's combs in her hair, keeping the blond curls from escaping. Emma would stand. Twirl. Feel the rich fabric as it flew against her skin.

Then she would turn to her maid and thank her for everything she'd done for her and tell her she was appreciated.

Finally, Emma would get in a white carriage drawn by a white horse and be whisked away to — not Darenset where she lived now. It was a beautiful town. Large. The biggest in the area, rivaling London with its beauty and wealth. Not to the balls in Enhurst, a much smaller place where everybody knew everybody — and a baron's daughter being gone for years was no exception. No, Emma would make the three-day journey to London where she would attend every ball the city had to offer. Where no one knew her. Where she would find a husband who would never have to know what she had done for the past five years. She would have to learn new customs and social etiquette, of course, but how hard could it be?