Dalby tipped his head as he went to do her bidding.
A moment later, a brown-haired young woman and Lord Chatsworth stepped into the room. He was just as handsome as she remembered, which had nothing to do with why she had initially struck up a conversation with him. His eyes carried a certain familiarity that eluded her explanation, yet she couldn’t deny the powerful attraction she felt towards him, stronger than any she had experienced with anyone else she had met before.
Remembering her manners, Emilia rose and dropped into a curtsy. “Welcome to my home,” she greeted.
Lord Chatsworth bowed. “Good morning,” he said. “I do hope we didn’t call too early.”
“Not at all,” Emilia replied. “I have been up for hours. I am used to waking up when the rooster crows to help fix breakfast for the girls…” She stopped and closed her eyes. Why had she just revealed that? He had only asked a simple question and she had blabbered on.
With a slight gesture at Lady Roswell, Lord Chatsworth said, “Miss Sutherland, allow me the privilege of introducing you to my sister-in-law, Lady Roswell.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Emilia remarked.
Lady Roswell smiled. “Were you really a teacher before you came to London?”
“I was,” Emilia replied.
“May I ask what you taught?” Lady Roswell asked.
“Needlework.”
Lady Roswell made a face. “I am terrible at needlework. My mother says that I am hopeless but I find that I don’t have the patience for it.”
“Perhaps you never had a good teacher,” Emilia suggested.
“I doubt that is it,” Lady Roswell said. “I would much rather be practicing my shooting at the targets.”
Emilia gave her an odd look. “You enjoy shooting?”
“I do,” Lady Roswell said, holding up her reticule. “I carry a muff pistol with me wherever I go, and it even came in handy one time.”
“Should I carry a pistol in my reticule?” Emilia asked.
Lord Chatsworth interjected, “Not unless you are proficient at it.”
Emilia shook her head. “I have never held a pistol before,” she admitted. “My mother didn’t particularly care for them.”
Lady Roswell retrieved the pistol from her reticule and held it up. “It is rather dainty and can do a great deal of damage to your attacker.”
“Are the streets of London so terribly unsafe?” Emilia asked.
“In my experience, yes,” Anette said. “And you are an heiress now. You should know how to protect yourself from rakes and fortune hunters.”
Emilia felt her eyes grow wide. “Do you think they might hurt me?”
“It wouldn’t be hard to toss you into a coach and abscond with you to Gretna Green—” Lady Roswell started.
Lord Chatsworth spoke over her. “Let’s not frighten the poor girl, shall we?”
“My apologies,” Lady Roswell said. “I’m afraid I tend to get carried away on certain topics, but I assure you that I do mean well.”
A maid stepped into the room with a tea service and placed it onto the table. “Would you like me to pour, Miss?”
“I can pour, but thank you,” Emilia replied as she returned to her seat. “Would anyone care for a cup of tea?”
While Lady Roswell returned the pistol to her reticule, she replied, “A cup of tea would be lovely, wouldn’t it, Fredrick?”
“Yes, tea would be nice,” Lord Chatsworth confirmed.