It had been several days since the incident at the masquerade with Marcus. Blessedly, Olivia had not noticed their interlude on the balcony—or if she had, she’d refrained from saying anything. But she had been watching Emma with a certain measuring look in her eye that Emma didn’t know how to interpret. Dearly as she loved her friend, it had been something of a relief to get away from her for a day. And Emma was looking forward to spending time with her parents. The minister preached from the book of Esther about trusting in God even when circumstances were beyond one’s control and consequences of failure were dire, and Emma sat a little straighter in the pew. Wasn’t that exactly her problem? She’d fallen into the trap of fear. She was afraid of telling her parents she’d lost her position because she worried that they would worry or would be disappointed in her. Afraid of abandoning this ridiculous hunt for a husband because she’d convinced herself it was the only option she had left when all of her applications for a governess’s post went unanswered.
