he next few weeks of Emma's life were among the happiest she had ever known. She floated through the days in a blissful

haze, wearing the indestructible smile of a woman who loves and is loved in return. Her life with Alex developed into a rather comfortable routine. They had all of their meals together—although many had to be brought up to their room on a tray. They

went for a ride every afternoon, taking a different route each time, and Westonbirt was large enough that after three weeks Emma still hadn't seen all of the estate. Every evening after supper, they lounged in their new sitting room, reading or playing chess, or simply enjoying each other's company.

And their nights, of course, were not reserved just for sleeping.

Emma soon learned to make good use of the time she didn't spend with Alex. He had quite a few business ventures that

required his attention, and he often spent time in his study going over important letters and documents. Also, there were four

other estates besides Westonbirt that required careful management, and Alex didn't like to leave all the details to overseers.

His tenants deserved more than an absentee landlord, and he had books and books of notes in which he tried to keep track

of their progress and needs.

So while Alex was busy with all of his work, Emma set about the job of getting to know her new home. Her first venture was to have the bed in the duchess's bedroom hauled away. A quick trip to London to visit her family and shop for furniture resulted in her new sitting room getting redecorated in record time. Then she busied herself with learning about the management of the ancestral Ashbourne home. After getting acquainted with all of the servants, she spent a little extra time with the higher ones, asking them questions about the running of the household. Her meetings were doubly successful, for in addition to learning more about the inner workings of Westonbirt, she developed a sense of trust with the servants. They truly appreciated her interest in their welfare and were flattered that she bothered to ask them for advice about her new role as mistress of Westonbirt.

But one could only spend so much time redecorating and interviewing servants, and soon Emma found that she had little to do.

The efficient staff ran the household like clockwork, and very little intervention was required on her part. So one morning,

about three weeks into her marriage, she took the initiative and knocked on Alex's study door.

"Come in."

Emma poked her head in the doorway. "Am I bothering you?"

Alex put the papers he'd been reading down on the desk. "No, not at all. Is it time for dinner yet?"

Emma shook her head.

Alex glanced out the window. "It's a beautiful day. Shall we have Mrs. Goode prepare us a picnic?"

"That would be lovely, thank you, but actually I just thought I'd pop in and see how you were doing. What are those papers

you're reading?"

Alex raised his eyebrows at her unexpected interest. "They pertain to an interest I have in a sugar plantation in the Caribbean."

"Oh. May I look at them?"

"Certainly." He held them out to her. "But I don't think you'll find them very interesting. Besides, they're in French."

Emma picked up the papers and scanned them. Her French was not as good as Alex's, but it was good enough to get the

general idea of the letters from the plantation manager. A bad season had resulted in a poor crop. Alex probably would not

see a return on his investment for another year. She handed the papers back to him. "That's too bad," she said.

"I underestimated your French."

Emma smiled. "They do teach us a thing or two in the Colonies."

"In the United States," Alex corrected.

"Touche. I've been in England too long."

Alex rose and wrapped his arms around her, dropping a chaste kiss on her nose. "Yes, well, you're English now."

She sighed contentedly, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "Alex?" she said against his chest.

"Hmmm?"

"I've been thinking. I've spent the last three weeks getting to know all of the servants and learning how to manage the

household, but now that I've done all that there really isn't much for me to do."

Alex tipped her face up to his. "Don't I keep you busy?" he asked in a husky voice.

Emma blushed. Their passion still embarrassed her a little when he discussed it in the light of day. "You keep my nights

busy. And my meals. And our daily ride, of course. But I really don't have anything to do while you're in here working."

"I see. Well, I don't see why you shouldn't take over the bookkeeping for the household. After all, you handled that for your father's company. I'm sure you are up to the task. Norwood has been doing it for years, but I don't think he enjoys it very

much. He much prefers being a stuffy old butler."

Emma brightened considerably. 'That would be lovely, Alex. I'll go seek him out right away." She leaned forward and kissed

him on the cheek. "I'll have Mrs. Goode see to that picnic basket. Why don't we meet in the great hall at one o'clock?"

At Alex's nod, she exited the study and went off in search of Norwood. She found him in a small dining parlor, inspecting

some silver that had been recently polished by a newly hired maid. "Oh Norwood!" she called out to the top of his balding

head from the next room.

He straightened immediately. "Yes, your grace?"

"I plan to take over the bookkeeping for the household accounts. His grace has indicated to me that you don't really enjoy

doing it, and I must admit, I rather like working with numbers."

"Yes, your grace. And pardon me for being so forward, but I must offer you my thanks. My eyes are not quite what they

used to be, and all those small numbers are a bit of a strain."

Emma offered him a sunny smile. 'Then everything has worked out perfectly! And you needn't beg my pardon. I wasn't

raised here in England and am not accustomed to so much formality. You shouldn't feel the least hesitation about approaching

me if there is some sort of problem."

"Thank you, your grace."

"And you should have told his grace about your eyesight," Emma added, shaking her head. "He would have given the

bookkeeping over to someone else."

Norwood cracked a smile—the first one Emma had ever seen touch his solemn demeanor. 'That may be true, your grace,

but his grace has not always been quite so, shall we say, approachable."

Emma grimaced. "No, I suppose not. But don't let that bother you. It's really all an act. Just look how much he cares for his tenants. Still, it's not very pleasant to be on the receiving end of his temper."

Norwood, who was unused to conversations with the Quality which lasted more than three sentences, wisely did not inquire

how her grace knew so much about his grace's temper.

"Anyway, I've very much enjoyed our chat," Emma continued. "Why don't we go and get that bookkeeping? I'd very much

like to learn how you've been doing it."

Norwood led Emma to a small office near the kitchens. It took her only a few minutes to figure out that while Norwood had

been extremely scrupulous in his calculations, he was using quite the most convoluted bookkeeping system she had ever seen. After thanking him profusely for the excellent job he had done, Emma quickly attacked the books, carefully examining all of the accounts so that she might figure out the most efficient way to keep track of expenses. Before she realized it, however, it was nearly one o'clock, and she hurried over to the great hall to meet Alex for their picnic.

"I really can't take too long to eat," she said without preamble. "Norwood is a dear, but he's made quite a mess of the books

and I'm eager to clean them up."

Alex smiled, pleased by her interest in his home. "I thought we'd head over to the grove on the other side of the stream today."

Emma frowned. "It will take us at least twenty minutes to walk there, and another twenty back. I really cannot spare that

much time if we are to go for our ride today at four o'clock. Why don't we just eat out in one of the courtyards?"

"I was hoping for a more secluded spot."

Emma's cheeks burned red. "I'm sure that would be, ah, interesting, but I really do want to get back to the books."

Alex sighed in defeat as he turned around and headed for the door that led out to the north courtyard. "We're going to have

to do something about this fear of daylight you have," he said. "People can make babies when the sun shines, too, you know."

Emma did not think it was possible, but her face grew even warmer. 'There is just something about taking all of one's clothes

off in the middle of the— Oh, I don't know!"

"Is that the problem?" Alex asked mildly, a devilish gleam in his eye. "Well, it certainly isn't necessary to take off all of one's clothes, although it would be rather fun."

After their picnic, Emma returned to her bookkeeping duties, which ended up requiring far less of her time than she had

originally supposed. As she finished up the job, however, she realized that while she would have to make frequent entries into

her new logs, there really wasn't any need to total up the accounts more than once a month. She sighed. Well, now she only

had to worry about occupying herself for thirty days that month. February would be a blessing, she supposed.

Still, she didn't want to complain to Alex. He was a very busy man, far too busy to spend every minute of the day entertaining

his new bride. Besides, she didn't want to give him the impression that she was unhappy with their marriage. So she decided to follow Belle's example and take the route of intellectual improvement, and the next day she climbed up the wooden ladder in the library and pulled down a copy of All's Well That Ends Well.

* * *

Three days later she was up to Cymbeline and furthermore, was convinced that she now needed spectacles. Shakespeare

was all very good, but not at the rate of more than two plays per day. Rubbing her eyes, she put her book down and once

again headed to Alex's study and briskly knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Emma entered and shut the door behind her. Alex was in his customary position, seated behind his huge desk with a

sheaf of papers in his hand.

"More about the sugar plantation?" Emma inquired politely.

"What? Oh, no, it's an account of some lands I have in Yorkshire. What brings you by this afternoon?"

Emma took a deep breath. "Well, the thing is, Alex, I'm bored."

He blinked. "What?"

"Not with you," Emma said hastily. "But you're ever so busy most of the day, and it's really becoming quite a challenge to

keep myself occupied."

"I see." He sat back in his chair, his expression somewhat perplexed. "What about all that bookkeeping I gave you?"

"It's all very interesting," Emma replied. "And it has taught me a great deal about Westonbirt, but I really don't need to

total the accounts more than once a month."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure that there is still plenty to do. What about menus? It always seemed to me that women spend a great

deal of time going over menus."

"I don't know which women you have been watching, but it rarely takes me more than ten minutes to go over the day's

menus with the cook."

"A hobby, perhaps."

"Alex, I detest watercolors, I'm abysmal at the pianoforte, and if I read another book, I'm going to need extremely thick spectacles. I don't mean to complain, but I have got to find something with which to occupy myself."

Alex sighed. He had a lot of work still to do that afternoon. He was quite behind in everything. His courtship of Emma had diverted a great deal of his time and energy away from his business concerns, and he was trying to get caught up. To top it

off, his estate manager for the Yorkshire lands had just written him with the news that a mysterious disease was striking

down a large number of his sheep. His wife's interruption was not well-timed.

"I don't know, Emma," he said, raking his hand through his hair. "Do whatever it is that married women do all day. I'm sure

you'll be able to keep yourself busy."

Emma bristled as she pulled herself up straight. Was that a slight note of condescension she heard in his voice? Alex couldn't

have picked a better comment to completely needle her if he'd tried. She opened her mouth to say something and then clamped

it shut. "I see. Well, thank you. If you'll excuse me, I'll try to occupy myself." With that, she turned around and left the room.

Alex shook his head and went back to work.

Twenty minutes later Emma reappeared in the doorway, dressed in a forest green traveling dress. Alex raised his eyebrows

at her change in costume but nonetheless offered her a benign smile.

"I just thought you ought to know," Emma said, pulling on a pair of gloves, "that I am leaving to visit your sister for a week."

Alex dropped his papers. "What... why?"

"It appears that I need to figure out what it is that married women do all day so that I may follow your advice and do it." With

that, she turned around and started to head for the front door where footmen were already loading a trunk into the carriage.

"Emma, get back here right now!" Alex called out dangerously, quickly eliminating the distance between them with long strides. "You are overreacting, and you damn well know it. There is absolutely no reason to leave me." With firm pressure on her upper arm, he ushered her back into his study.

"Alex, I'm not leaving you," Emma said sweetly, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. "I'm merely going to visit your sister."

"Damn it, Emma," he ground out. "I don't want you to go."

It was all Emma could do not to throw herself into his arms and tell him that she didn't want to go either. But even though this

visit to Sophie had started out as a way to teach Alex a lesson, she now realized that she really did need to learn what married women did with their time because if she didn't, she was going to go crazy. "Alex," she began, "I will miss you dreadfully—"

'Then don't go."

"—but I really have to. I'm having a little trouble adjusting to married life."

"You damn well are not," Alex said indignantly.

"Not that side of married life," Emma said pointedly. "But I need to find something to occupy my days as well as my nights.

I need to feel useful and I refuse to take up embroidery. Don't you understand?"

Alex sighed despondently. He understood. But he didn't like it. He'd gotten rather used to having Emma around. Westonbirt

was going to feel unbearably empty without her. "I could order you to stay, you know. Legally you are my property."

Emma's spine stiffened as shock squeezed around her heart. "You wouldn't," she whispered.

Alex dropped his arms, deflated. "No, I wouldn't."

They stood facing each other for a long minute until Emma finally stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. "I have to be off now, darling. I want to get there before dark."

Alex followed her through the house. "Is Sophie expecting you?"

"No, I thought I'd surprise her."

"Oh. How many grooms do you have traveling with you?"

"Two."

"I don't think that's enough. Better take a third."

"Two is fine, darling. I'll have a driver, too."

He helped her up into the carriage. "It looks like it might rain," he said, scanning the overcast sky.

"I won't melt, Alex."

He pouted, and in that moment Emma knew exactly what he had looked like as a small boy. "You'll be back in a week?"

"One week."

"You can come back early, you know. You don't have to stay a week."

"I'll see you in a week, Alex."

Alex leaned up and gave her one last kiss, so passionate that all of the servants discreetly turned their heads. Might as well give her a taste of what she'd be missing. It worked, he knew, because when he finally drew away, she was flushed and had that telltale unfocused look in her eyes, but unfortunately he was now on his way to becoming uncomfortably hard. Mumbling his good-byes, he reluctantly shut the carriage door and watched her disappear down the drive.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked back to the house, viciously kicking at some pebbles in his path. Maybe he'd take

off and go to London for the week. Maybe he wouldn't miss her so much there.

* * *

Sophie's pregnancy had started to show, so she had packed up her London house and moved to the Wilding estate in East

Anglia. Unfortunately, East Anglia always seemed to be the rainiest part of England, and by the time Emma's carriage pulled

up in front of Sophie's country home, it was pouring.

"Oh my goodness!" Sophie exclaimed upon seeing her new sister-in-law on her doorstep. "Whatever are you doing here? Have you and Alex had a fight? Oh, this is dreadful, perfectly dreadful. He is going to have to get down on his hands and knees—"

"Hands and knees really won't be necessary," Emma interjected. "If I could just come in and get warmed up, I'll tell you

all about it."

"Oh, of course! I'm so sorry. Come in, come in." Sophie quickly ushered Emma into a parlor. "Lucky for you, I just had

Bingley set up a fire in the fireplace." She steered Emma into a chair near the hearth. "Just stay where you are. I'll go

see about blankets."

Emma pulled off her gloves and rubbed her hands together near the fire, shivering as the flames chased away some of the dampness that pervaded her frame.

"Here we go!" Sophie called out, sailing into the room, her arms full of blankets. "I've ordered a pot of tea, as well. Nothing

like tea to warm you up."

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you don't want to change? I can have someone press one of your dresses for you immediately, or you can

borrow one of mine. You might feel warmer once you get out of those wet clothes."

"I'm not wet, just a little damp," Emma replied. "And I don't want to miss the tea when it's still hot. I have never been able to understand why you English wait to drink your tea when it's lukewarm."

Sophie shrugged her shoulders.

"I suppose you're wondering why I've come for an unannounced visit."

"Well, yes."

"It isn't really a problem with your brother. Quite the contrary. I'm very happy in our marriage."

"I knew that you would be."

"The problem is that I don't really have anything to do all day while Alex is busy. Before the marriage I busied myself with social engagements, but I really don't want to get back into the-social whirl just now, and besides, the season is drawing to a close."

"Hmm, and you're not very good with musical instruments, are you?"

"Sophie," Emma said with dead seriousness. "I avoid the pianoforte out of sheer compassion for Alex, all of the servants, and every living creature at Westonbirt with ears."

Sophie smothered a laugh.

"I don't want to take up a hobby, anyway. I want to do something useful. In Boston, I helped my father run his shipping

company. I kept all of the books, and he consulted me on almost all of his major decisions. I spent many days at the offices

and in the shipyard. I really enjoyed it. In fact, I fought long and hard against coming to England because I didn't want to

leave the business."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you lost the battle," Sophie said. "But I see what you mean. Unfortunately, it's rather uncommon

for a gently-bred woman to run a business here in England."

"It was rather uncommon in Boston, too," Emma said despondently.

"Much as it angers me, I just don't think many people would take you seriously. And if nobody takes you seriously, you are,

of course, doomed to fail, because nobody will buy any of the products or services or whatever you're offering. And then, of course, once you've failed, everyone will go about saying, 'I told you so' and 'This is why I didn't patronize her in the first place."

"I know. That's precisely why my father wanted me to come to England. He knew that the business would fail if I ran it,

even though I could do a better job than most men."

Sophie rubbed her chin. "But you know, a gently-bred woman can run a charity."

"A charity?"

"Yes, and if you go about it the right way, I don't really see how running a charity would be very different than running

a business."

"You're right," Emma said slowly, her eyes beginning to light up. "First one has to figure out how to raise the money, then

collect it. And after that one must manage it properly and see that it is spent wisely."

Sophie smiled, feeling as if she had done a very good deed that day.

"And if one undertook, say, the building of a school or a hospital, then one would have to oversee all of the workmen and expenses. It would be very stimulating. Not to mention quite beneficial for the community."

"Good," Sophie said, clapping her hands together. "I shall be the very first one to sign up for your committee to build whatever

it is you decide to build. You're going to build it near Westonbirt, aren't you? I'd be quite helpful, actually, if you build something there. The tenants are quite fond of me, I think. I always brought them baskets at Easter and Christmas. Although I cannot really be too much help right now." She patted her stomach. "But I can help you with planning and all that once you get started, and—"

"Sophie," Emma cut off her sister-in-law's ramblings in a laughing voice. "You shall be the very first one I call upon."

"Good. I look forward to it." Sophie poured Emma a cup of tea. "Now then, how long are you going to stay? I imagine you're eager to get back to my brother now that you've solved your problem, but I really don't think you should set back tonight.

It is getting rather late, and the rain doesn't seem to be letting up."

Emma took a sip of her tea, letting it warm her throat. "Actually, I told Alex that I would be gone for a week."

"Goodness, whatever for? You've only been married a month. Surely you don't want to be gone a week?"

"No," Emma said with a small sigh. "But he did speak to me in the most awful condescending voice when I told him I was

bored, and—"

"Say no more," Sophie said, putting up her hand. "I know exactly what you're talking about. You needn't stay a week, but you might want to try to hold out for about four days. He needs to learn not to underestimate you."

"Yes, I suppose, but..." Emma's voice trailed off as she glanced up at Sophie. All of the blood had rushed from her face, and

she let her teacup clatter noisily in its saucer. "Sophie?" Emma questioned, twisting her head to follow Sophie's line of vision.

An attractive man with warm brown eyes and sandy hair stood in the doorway.

"Oliver?" Sophie said in a whisper. "Oh, Oliver! I've missed you so!"

Emma blinked back an unexpected tear as she watched Sophie launch herself into her husband's arms. Keeping her eyes discreetly downcast, she waited while the couple kissed and hugged and told each other with words and looks how much

they had been missed during the last few months.

"Sophie," Oliver said finally, drawing back but refusing to let go of her hand. "Perhaps you should introduce me to your friend."

Sophie laughed gaily. "Oh Oliver, you're never going to believe this, but Emma's not just my friend, she's my sister-in-law.

Alex got married!"

Oliver's mouth fell open. "You're joking."

Sophie shook her head, and Emma smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I'll be damned. Ashbourne got himself married. You must be quite a lady, your grace."

"Oh please, call me Emma."

"And American to boot," he added, noting her accent.

Emma exchanged a few pleasantries with the earl of Wilding, but much as the reunited couple tried to hide it, it was obvious

that they wanted some time alone together. So, mumbling something about being desperately tired from the ride, Emma asked

if she could have her supper sent up to her on a tray. Bidding the couple goodnight, she headed up to her room, stopping on the way at the library, where she made a beeline for the Shakespeare section and plucked Hamlet off the shelf.

* * *

The next morning, Emma once again donned her traveling dress, already freshly laundered and pressed. Sophie appeared

at the breakfast table in her dressing gown, somewhat bleary-eyed but looking indescribably happy.

"Under the circumstances, I think I'll cut my visit short and go see my cousins for a few days," Emma said.

"You don't have to do that," Sophie said quickly, stifling a yawn.

Emma smiled knowingly. Sophie hadn't gotten very much sleep the night before. "No, believe me, I'd rather. You deserve some time alone with your husband and son. If you could just send a messenger to Alex with this note informing him of the change in plans, I'd appreciate it very much."

"Oh, yes, certainly. But make sure that you don't go back before the four days are up. And if you can, you should try for five."

Emma just smiled and ate her omelette.