Chapter Eight

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Emily stared in fascination as the young lady across the table finished her second course.

The poor girl looked as though she had been starving for an entire week. She ate at an ungodly speed. Even Oscar—seated next to her—watched in equal fascination and seemed unable to look away.

Her fuller figure spoke of over indulgence rather than starvation, but she was indeed a sight to behold.

"Are you much aquantined with Lady Susannah Smithers?" Lord Westwood asked, forcing Emily to look away from the plump paragon.

"We were introduced when they arrived earlier. I'm afraid I have been staring at her rather blatantly. It's just..." Emily looked back in time to see Lady Susannah soaking up all the gravy off of her plate with the extra bread that sat in the middle of the long crowded table.

"Ah, yes. Well, if you have never been to a dinner with her before, her behaviour must seem quite shocking, but I assure you, it is to be expected. She has a fondness for food, as you may have already guessed."

"Incredible," Emily said under her breath. It was amazing what one could get away with when one was rich and well connected.

Emily, on the other hand, had never been allowed to indulge in anything during her time at her aunt and uncle's, especially food. Her slim appearance had not been one of choice.

Her line of sight moved slightly left towards Oscar, whose facial expression now twisted into one of horror as Lady Susannah used her finger once all the bread was gone.

"I have it on good authority that Lady Trentham wishes an alliance between Lady Susannah and her son."

Emily stared at Lord Westwood wide eyed. Aunty Prue and Cecily would not be pleased with that piece of news.

"She is extremely wealthy, and a distant cousin of the King, you know?" he added.

"I'm shocked," Emily said as she turned back to look at the rather odd pair across the table.

"Though, I am positive his mother will have some convincing to do by the look on poor Trentham's face," said Lord Westwood.

Indeed, Emily thought. Oscar did not look one bit enamoured with Susannah Smithers. She was certainly no beauty, with a rather large hairy mole protruding from her forehead. She reminded Emily of the fairy tales about witches who ate small children for supper, by luring them into a quaint cottage with the promise of sweets.

Suddenly, Oscar’s eyes were on her. She immediately looked down towards the plate in front of her that still displayed some slices of beef and a handful of roasted potatoes.

He had been avoiding her since the night in the library—which, of course, suited her perfectly fine. That way, she did not need to avoid him.

That night had stirred too many emotions within her. Emotions she could not harbour. Every night since, the feel of his lips had haunted her dreams. The kiss had been chaste, but its effect would linger for a lifetime.

"You look at the floor far too often, my dear. You are exceedingly beautiful tonight. Let everyone take a glimpse," Westwood whispered in Emily’s ear.

She looked up into his handsome face, and couldn’t help but return his infectious smile. If she had not lost her heart long ago, she would have been drawn to his black eyes and defined jaw. He was a different kind of beautiful to Oscar. Where Oscar embodied a boyish charm and lighter features, Westwood seemed older, more mature. Perhaps even a hint of danger and excitement lurked behind his rakish facade. She had known him barely an hour and already he was whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

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