Something About Emmaline Read Free Page A

Near his residence? Enough to cause traffic problems?
    His gaze shot to the pile of errant bills and he grabbed up the first one he could put his fingers on.
    If his throat was dry, his heart nearly stopped as he spied at the top of the bill the telltale evidence to support his grandmother’s outlandish theory.
    No. 17, Hanover Street.
    How had he not noticed this before? Of course, why would he? Imaginary wives did not go on shopping sprees capable of beggaring an Eastern prince.
    He shuffled through the notes before him, and to his horror they all had the same delivery address. His London address. And every single one was addressed as being the purchase of The Right Hon. Lady Sedgwick.
    Not the gloating dowager peering over the top of her newspaper as she watched him come to the conclusion he’d pompously told her was impossible. But the current Lady Sedgwick.
    Emmaline.
    “This can’t be right!” he said, grabbing the paper out of her hands and reading the entry for himself.
    “Oh, Alex, do settle down. A lady is entitled to make some changes to her home from time to time. I’ve always thought that house on Hanover Square was a veritable mausoleum. If your grandfather hadn’t been so tight-fisted, I would have—”
    But her words fell to a stop as she glanced up and realized she was talking to an empty chair.
    Alex, it seemed, had departed. One would hope, she mused, for London. Back to his wife.
    “Right where he belongs,” she said to the closest pug, scratching the dog indulgently.
     
    His trip to town most likely set a record, if Alex had been of a mind to consider such things. He’d been far too occupied envisioning the scenes of complete and utter disaster awaiting him in London.
    Emmaline? Impossible, he kept telling himself. But there she was in the Post and the Times.
    Someone had let slip his secret. But who? It couldn’t have been Elliott or his wife, or Simmons, his London butler. All three of them owed him their very livelihoods.
    So that left only one suspect.
    Jack.
    It would be just like his puckish friend to think that bringing Emmaline to life would be a good jest.
    Yet that left so many other unanswered questions. Such as, how had she gotten into the house? Simmons, having served the family for over forty years, would never allow such a calamity to sully the Sedgwick name.
    Then, after that, he had to consider who else had seen this imposter. He shuddered to think if any of his extended family had come to call after seeing the accounts in the paper. Or, worse yet, had come to London and used the Sedgwick town house, as was the custom. He’d always been generous about extending the house to family during the off season and knew that his cousins and aunts and uncles often took advantage of this standing invitation.
    And right now this person was living in his house, sleeping in his bed and passing herself off as his wife. Possibly even entertaining his family.
    He buried his head in his hands. Lord, he could well imagine the type of doxy Jack would hire to impersonate Emmaline.
    Entertaining his relations took on an entirely new meaning.
    When his carriage turned the corner onto Hanover Square just after one in the morning, to his relief he found that his toplofty neighborhood looked much as it had when he’d left it a month or so ago. Dignified and proper. And Number Seventeen appeared just as it should, the house of a respected member of the ton.
    Hard to believe that inside, catastrophe awaited him.
    The carriage pulled to a stop and he bounded out and up the front steps, running through the list he had compiled.
    First he was going to toss this imposter into the streets. After that was completed, he was going to hunt up Jack and give him a thorough thrashing.
    Then he was going to get very drunk. And make his former friend pay for every bottle, if he had to pay for it with his confounded flesh.
    When he got to the door, it didn’t open immediately as was the case when he was in town for