Page 93 of The Scot’s Secret

Emma closed the door behind her.

“What’s wrong?”

Clara’s plan completely fell apart. Instead of hiding the truth, she told Emma everything. Including her true feelings for Alex.

If Emma was shocked, she didn’t show it. Instead, she sprang into action.

“Find something to wear,” she ordered.

Clara moved to the trunk to do just that.

Emma reached under the bed and pulled out the sheet. She calmly walked to the fire and tossed the evidence into its flames. Why had she not thought of that?

“I’m so sorry, Emma. I—”

“Sorry? For being with the man you love? For allowing yourself to feel something other than pain and sorrow?”

Emma pulled out a fresh shift and simple pale blue gown. The color matched her mood. What had seemed so exciting and romantic the night before was now wrought with complications.

Once dressed, she moved to put her boy’s clothes back into the trunk, their freshly washed state courtesy of Faye, when Emma held out her hands.

“Give them to me.”

Clara was poised to do just that when she realized what the other girl intended. She was going to toss them into the fire.

“No, you can’t!”

“Clara, you don’t need them. Surely you realize you’ll never be Alfred again?”

Emma must have sensed the panic that welled up inside her. She could not get rid of her disguise. Susanna was temporary. Alfred was her future.

“Of course I will,” she said. “I will not be marrying Alex.”

She’d told Emma everything except the fact that she had refused his offer.

“Clara, what are you saying? You love him. ’Tis obvious. And ’tis just as obvious he feels the same way.”

“I doubt that.”

Emma ignored her.

“Did you tell him of your decision?”

“I did. Although,” she admitted, “I don’t think he believed me.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Well of course he didn’t. What possible reason could you have—”

“I will not be responsible for his death.”

Her words must have penetrated because Emma stopped talking.

“Everyone I love has died trying to protect me. I will not allow Alex to do the same.”

“Clara, you don’t know what will happen if—”

“I will not take that chance.” She tried to be firm without hurting her new friend. “Please understand. After my father died, I never expected to have my own life again. I didn’t allow myself to think about a future. This—” she waved to the bed, “—felt right. I love him, and perhaps selfishly, I wanted to know what it would be like.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t agree with you, Clara, but I would never presume to tell you how to live your life. But please, please just think on it a bit more. At least until you leave Kenshire. I could tell Sara and Geoffrey, perhaps—”