by Alec, Joyce
“It is not me that has disgraced our family, Father. It seems that you would rather I marry a man that has threatened harm upon me, rather than being concerned for my welfare. Is that how a father should treat his own daughter? I know that you do not wish to spend money on another Season for me, but would you rather that I be unhappy for the rest of my days?” she stated calmly, as her father’s countenance began to grow dark.
Her father’s lip curled. “How dare you speak to me with such arrogance?” he demanded, taking a few steps towards her. “You are the cause of all this trouble, Emily. You broke off the engagement without so much as consulting me!”
“You would have forbidden me to do so,” Emily interrupted, hearing footsteps coming swiftly towards the open door and feeling her heart leap in her chest. “And I knew then that I had to make my own decision. I have had enough of being manipulated, Father, both by yourself and by Lord Davenport. Your threats mean nothing to me. Nothing will induce me to return to Lord Davenport, not even the threat of being sent away to Scotland.” She held her father’s gaze steadily, her confidence rising as the color began to wash from his face. Her newfound confidence and strength of mind were something of a shock to her father, who clearly found himself entirely at a loss as to how to deal with her.
“How dare you?” he hissed, taking a few steps forward. “You shall go to Lord Davenport this moment and beg his forgiveness! I shall not spend a single penny on sending you to Scotland, not when I had your future already secured.”
“I think that will be rather difficult, Lord Hornsby.”
Emily’s eyes flew to the figure who was now standing framed in the doorway. Her face split with a smile, her heart bursting into life within her chest. Lord Hornsby, suddenly caught by confusion at the sound and sight of some unknown figure within his house, turned slowly, his anger fading away to be replaced with uncertainty.
“As I have said,” Lord Wickton continued, striding into the room without waiting to be welcomed by Lord Hornsby, “that will be rather difficult, sir, since Lord Davenport has already boarded ship.” He threw a quick glance towards Emily, a satisfied smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “Lord Matthews is waiting to confirm that it has left England’s shores and I have no doubt that Lord Davenport will not be seen again.” He inclined his head towards Emily, his eyes fixing themselves to her face as she rose. “Might you care for a short walk, Miss Smythe? The day is fine and I believe we have a good deal to say to one another.” He ignored her father entirely, Emily noticed, feeling her heart race with joy as she nodded and walked towards him.
“The gardens are small and rather unattended, but they might suffice,” she suggested, nearing him and turning her back entirely on her father. “The day is fine, is it not?”
“It is brighter now that I have seen you again,” he replied gently, bringing a blush to Emily’s cheeks. “The gardens would be wonderful, I am sure.”
“Then it is this way,” Emily said, accepting the offer of his arm and walking out with Lord Wickton from the drawing room, leaving her stunned and confused father behind.
* * *
“You cannot know just how much I longed to see your face again.”
The gardens were small and yet seemed to fill with fragrance as Emily looked up into Lord Wickton’s face.
“Was it truly terrible?” she asked solemnly, allowing his words to warm her heart but still feeling the pain of what he must have endured. “Did you suffer?”
Lord Wickton’s jaw worked for a moment. “It was difficult,” he admitted, dropping his gaze to the path ahead of them. “I struggled somewhat; I will confess it.” Looking back at her, he gave her a small, tight smile. “All I wanted was to find you, to tell you the truth of Lord Davenport’s character, but as the days passed, I feared that I would be much too late.” He paused and shook his head, a sigh escaping him. “The depths of pain I felt upon hearing that you were engaged were more than I can ever express.”
“Lord Davenport manipulated me into our supposed engagement,” Emily replied bitterly. “I was not strong enough to refuse him, for he had suggested that the dead man pulled from the Thames might have been you.” She looked up at him again, her breath catching at the painful memory. “In my weakness and trouble, he took advantage and made out as though I had already accepted him when, in truth, he had never once asked me for my hand.”
“A trickster indeed,” Lord Wickton said harshly, reaching across to pat her hand where it rested on his arm. “But not one that you need to fear any longer, Emily.” His voice grew quieter, his expression softening. “You need not even consider him again.”
She nodded, her heart opening towards Lord Wickton all the more. “I will not consider him,” she agreed. “I shall consider only what is in front of my eyes.” She felt her heart begin to race at her boldness, her mouth opening slightly as he turned to face her, stopping their slow steps completely. Her anticipation mounted steadily as Lord Wickton’s gaze grew tender, his hand lifting to brush lightly along her cheek.
His touch seared her, sending heat reverberating through her as her breath hitched.
“You have not changed your mind, I hope?” he asked, his voice low and quiet as his eyes searched her own. “You have not reconsidered my offer and found it unfavorable?”
She could not help but laugh softly, shaking her head as she looked up into his face. “No, indeed, I have not,” she replied, finding his hand and holding it tightly in her own. “I will confess to you, Wickton, that the thought of being your wife, of being your bride, is one that brings me such joy that I do not feel as though I can contain it!”
This answer appeared to bring him a good deal of relief, for he nodded, smiled, and let out a long breath, his shoulders dropping just a little.
“I am glad,” he replied gently, his other hand finding hers so they stood together, facing each other, their hands joined. “I know that there was a good deal of emotion last evening and I feared that…” Trailing off, he shook his head, his eyes darting away as his lips drew into a rueful smile. “I thought that you might have responded simply due to the weightiness of your decision to end your engagement to Lord Davenport.”
Emily pressed his hands tightly, knowing that she had to speak the truth. “I have had a love for you for some time, Wickton,” she admitted, feeling heat crawl into her face but refusing to allow it to overcome her. “I have watched you from afar. I have hoped and longed and waited and dreamed, but nothing ever came to fruition.” She shrugged, seeing his expression grow concerned. “It was, I thought, nothing more than a foolish dream which I had to give up. Except, I discovered that I could not let you go free from my heart.”
Lord Wickton let out a long breath, his eyes closing for a moment. Emily did not know what to think—was he shocked by her expression of love?
“I have known you for some time, have I not?” Lord Wickton’s eyes opened again, his expression a little heavy.
“You have,” Emily agreed, remembering the first time she had been acquainted with Lord Wickton. It had been thanks to her friendship with Charlotte that she had found herself introduced to him, but the moment she had laid eyes on him, she had felt her heart burst with a fierce affection that still lingered to this day.
“And in all that time, I never allowed myself to look into my heart and see what burned there for you,” Lord Wickton continued, dropping her hand but only so that he might place it around her waist, drawing her a little closer. His eyes were fixed on hers, as tumultuous as the sea. “It was only when I was pulled away from you, when I could not reach you, that I realized the truth of what I felt.” Closing his eyes, he drew in a long breath. “I love you dearly, Emily.”
Her breath caught, her eyes flared, and her hands wrapped around his neck before she could prevent them from doing so. Her eyes filled with joyful tears as he pulled her closer, his smile pushing away the regret and the pain of the past.
“You must know just how much I love you,” she whispered, fee
ling a tear dash onto her cheek. “It has been with me almost every day since we first met. My heart has filled with none but you. Even though I tried to forget you, tried to convince myself that I did not care for you as deeply as I thought, my heart refused to believe it. I love you, Wickton, with such a fierceness that it shall never let me go. It shall only burn more steadily with every passing day, for now that I am in your arms, I can let it free.”
He smiled at her then, reaching up to brush away her tears before pulling her close again. “Then let it free now, Emily,” he whispered, his head lowering as he bent his head to kiss her and, in doing so, brought her every dream, her every hope and wish, into a full and wonderful completion.
* * *
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