Vampyre Bride ✔️

III⎮The Watcher

Music sheets were rather an expensive commodity, but Emma had never allowed that to dissuade her from enjoying the pianoforte. She had, whenever the opportunity presented itself, scribbled down and copied music into her notebook before returning the borrowed sheets to whichever of her friends or family had loaned them to her in the first place.

Always an early riser, unlike her sister, she had taken to practicing Robin Adair this morning before breakfast in the hopes that she might have a moment alone with her uncle. It was his habit to answer his business letters in this very room of a morning, for it was well-lit and comfortable, and so Emma waited while she ran her fingers gaily across the keys with deft precision.

At length, her uncle entered the drawing room — ever the predictable sort — and, careful not to disturb her playing, seated himself at his rosewood Davenport to mend his pen. When she stopped to make notes in her journal, he released a heavy sigh that drew her attention.

"Oh do play something a little more sedate, Emmaline. Tis far too early for your Irish airs!" Her uncle could by no means be mistaken for a morning person, but his ornery insistence provoked only an impertinent smile from Emma that her uncle chose to ignore.

"Of course, uncle," she replied sweetly, turning to face him. "But first I would speak with you a moment."

He looked up with a raised brow and then placed his pen at rest as he regarded her archly. "You, no doubt, wish to know about Lord Winterly," said he, guessing her intentions immediately.

"I do. You recognized his name..."

"That I did, but I know him in name only, for I had not met him before last night."

"Please do not be reticent, uncle. Certes, I have a right to seek out any information I can about the man who saved my life; do not you agree?"

He seemed to mull the thought over some small length of time, resting one knee over the other as he folded his arms and made himself more comfortable. It was purposefully done; Emma stifled a giggle and allowed him to think he had affected her patience.

"I say, uncle, I suspect you take delight in teasing me." She narrowed her eyes at him with a playful wag of her finger.

"What does an old man live for but to vex those he loves." He winked at her and then relented. "Very well, child. But I fear you will be disappointed. I know very little of the man."

"Any little will suffice," she assured him.

"I have heard his name in some of my business dealings. You must know by now that I do not make it a point to acquaint myself with any gossip appertaining to the ton in general; I care little for that sort of thing, but I have found it advantageous to keep abreast of matters of a political nature. Lord Winterly is, in fact, the Right Honorable, Vicount Winterly..." Her uncle waited expectantly for Emma to show some sign of understanding, but was rather disappointed when she remained silent, her brow puckered in thoughtful confusion.

"I have never heard of him."

"I suppose not," he needled her facetiously; before admitting his own limited knowledge. "In truth, I myself know very little about the man except from what I hear through my business associates in the teashops — damn intrusive lot." Robert Haywood tapped his mouth thoughtfully. "He seems to guard his private life rather jealously, but, again, you know I care very little for the nobility and their affairs."

"Yes, you did mention that." Twice, in fact.

He yawned audibly and glanced thoughtfully at the grandfather clock in the corner. "I flatter myself that if I were a member of White's I might know a little more, but you know I cannot bear the company of gamesters!"