The Handmaiden's Necklace by Kat Martin Page A

want you to be happy.”
    Rafe only nodded. He had given up that hope five years ago. Now, hearing his best friend’s words, the thought burned inside him again. Was it possible? He didn’t know, but he knew he had to find out.
    Tomorrow morning, he would book passage for himself on a ship bound for America.
    “If you decide to go,” Ethan said as if he had read Rafe’s mind, “Belford Shipping has a vessel sailing for America three days hence. The owner’s cabin is yours. The Triumph can sail you straight up the Delaware River to Philadelphia, and she’s a fast ship, Rafael. With good weather, she’ll cut at least a week off the time Danielle has ahead of you.”
    Rafe looked up at him. Inside his chest, his heart was squeezing as if it were locked in a fist.
    “Make the arrangements” was all he said.

Six
    N eeding a moment alone, Danielle stood at the window, staring into the darkness of the city they had reached just two weeks ago. Tonight she and her aunt were attending a small house party being given by close friends of Richard’s in honor of their engagement. It seemed there were always more people to meet, and though they were friendly, sometimes it was a bit overwhelming.
    Dani gazed into the quiet outside the house. With its narrow cobbled streets and redbrick buildings, tall white church steeples and large, open green parks, Philadelphia was charming, if nothing at all like London.
    Though America and England had once been connected, it was as if the American colonists had done everything in their power to carve out a new identity all their own. Their speech was less clipped, less formal. Their clothes followed English fashion, yet, with the distance between the two countries, even the most lavish costumes seemed slightly out of vogue.
    Still, the people here had a strong, rugged independencethat Danielle admired and respected. They were their own people, these Americans. She had never met anyone quite like them.
    Danielle turned away from the window and walked over to join her aunt, who stood next to the cut-crystal punch bowl. During the two weeks since her arrival, Dani had settled comfortably into the narrow brick row house Aunt Flora had let for her stay in America. At present, Dani and Caro resided there with her in the charming, colonial-style home.
    After Dani’s wedding, three weeks hence, she and Caro would move into Richard’s home on Society Hill, and once they were settled, Aunt Flora would return to England, accompanied by a companion she hired for the journey.
    Dani would remain with her husband in Philadelphia, a completely new and different world. She was grateful Caro would be staying, as well.
    She took a sip from the cup of punch Aunt Flora slid into her hand.
    “Here comes Richard,” her aunt whispered, smiling at the blond man who approached from across the parlor, what the Americans called a drawing room. “He is certainly a handsome man.”
    She cast Danielle a sideways glance, trying to read her emotions where Richard was concerned, but Dani kept her features carefully blank.
    She liked Richard Clemens enough to accept his proposal, but she wasn’t in love with him. And she didn’t think Richard was more than moderately enamored of her. He was a successful, practical man who needed a wife to replace the one who had died in childbirth and a mother for his two children. Over time, Dani hoped, their affection would grow deeper.
    “Ah, Danielle—there you are.” He smiled and she returned it.
    “I saw you talking to Mr. Wentz,” she said. “Since you and he both own textile manufacturing companies, I imagined the two of you were talking business.”
    He reached down and caught her hand, gave it a squeeze. “Very astute. I sensed that from our first meeting. A man with a wife who understands her role can be a tremendous asset to her husband’s business.”
    Dani continued to smile. She wasn’t exactly certain what role Richard expected her to play, but in time she