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“It was Mama’s idea,” Anne said. “Because the music is about to start, we thought we’d better speak with Mrs. Knightley now. We won’t want to speak to anyone once the dancing starts.”

Susan giggled. “Except to young men like Mr. Plumtree. Anne and I could talk to him forever.”

Her sister tossed a fat curl over her shoulder. “La, I barely took notice of him. You’re the one who was making sheep’s eyes at him.”

“I was not,” Susan indignantly replied.

“You were both flirting with him, from what I could see,” Mrs. Cole replied with a wink. “And I don’t blame you one bit. He’s a very nice young man.”

Since her marriage last year, Emma had given up her rather checkered career of matchmaking. Perhaps, though, she could be persuaded to make an exception for Guy. If nothing else, it would be an act of charity to introduce him to a few eligible young ladies and save him from the likes of the Cox sisters.

Perhaps the oldest Otway girl?

Susan beamed at Mrs. Cole. “And Mr. Plumtree is so stylish, too. I vow, no young man has been so stylish in Highbury since Mr. Frank Churchill.”

Anne scoffed. “He’s not nearly a patch on Frank Churchill— not that Frank had eyes for anyone but Jane. Although everyonedidthink he was sweet on you, Mrs. Knightley. To think he was secretly engaged to Jane the entire time that he flirted with you.”

Talking to the Cox girls was just as unpleasant as stepping into a mud puddle while wearing one’s best shoes.

Mrs. Cole cast a severe look on the sisters. “That’s no way to speak to Mrs. Knightley. I doubt Mr. Knightley would be very pleased.”

Susan had the grace to look abashed. Unfortunately, Anne wouldn’t know how to look abashed if her life depended on it.

“We don’t mean to offend, Mrs. Knightley,” Susan apologetically said.

“It’s fine,” Emma said. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”

The sisters exchanged an uncomfortable glance, as if at a loss how to begin.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mrs. Cole said with a surprising degree of tact. “I must speak to Mr. Cole.”

“We’re sorry again to interrupt your conversation, Mrs. Knightley,” said Susan after their hostess departed. “I hope you don’t think us too rude.”

Anne again tossed a curl over her shoulder. “You apologize too much, Susan. I’m sure you’re boring Mrs. Knightley to tears.”

“A well-intentioned apology is never amiss,” Emma said sternly. “Again, what did you wish to speak to me about?”

After several seconds of fraught silence, Anne elbowed her sister. “Go on, Susan.”

Susan bristled. “You’re the oldest, so you should say it.”

“Coward,” Anne muttered before looking at Emma.

Interestingly, the girl’s gaze mingled a curious mixture of defiance and embarrassment, if Emma didn’t miss her guess.

“Is this about your brother?” she asked.

Anne gave a reluctant nod. “Mama wanted us to apologize to you for his bad behavior at your party. She said you would be very upset about what happened to your maid, and that William’s behavior just made everything worse.”

Emma’s heart jolted against her rib cage. “How did William’s behavior make it worse?”

Susan’s eyes popped wide. “Because that poor girl had such a horrible end, Mrs. Knightley. When William heard the next day, he felt dreadful because he’d been …”

“Flirting with her,” Anne finished. “When she didn’t want him to.”

Emma frowned. “Your brother told your mother that he was pestering Miss Parr?”

Anne nodded. “Yes, and Papa, too. Papa rang a terrible peal over him. Poor William was miserable.”