Surprised, Emma took the small shell from his hand. It had a light gray, curved outside shell and a glossy, smooth, pink surface within. She looked up at him, wondering its significance. He continued to stare at her with an expectant air, and she wished she understood the meaning of the gesture.
“Thank you.”
“It is for you,” he explained. “A gift. There are no flowers in January and your guardian is not present so…”
“Oh! A gift for me?” Emma realized this was his attempt at wooing her and her heart cracked open. “But how did you…? Please do not tell me you walked all the way to the beach to find me a shell.” She looked down from the edge of the cliff to the beach below.
“I confess Jonathan assisted me.”
“But you should not attempt such a thing. You are still recovering.”
“You said the purpose of the gift was not the object but the effort involved in the giving.”
“Oh, Dare!”
“Did I do it right?” The earnestness in his eyes made her heart ache.
“Yes, yes, you did it very well. Thank you. I will cherish it always.”
“Good.” Dare opened his mouth to say something but turned away instead, staring out over the ocean. She could not begin to guess his thoughts. Without his greatcoat, he appeared thin and lonely in the pale light, leaning on his walking stick.
Clearly, he had not given up his attempt to convince her to marry him. She would never take advantage of the situation to accept an offer made only out of obligation, but what if his heart had been truly touched? He certainly had gone to great effort. Would he act the same way out of a sense of honor? Given what Emma knew of the enigmatic man before him, he probably would.
Though she was already standing next to him, she stepped closer. “I must insist you take back your coat. I do not wish you to catch cold in your condition. And truly, you should rest.”
“No, no, my condition is very well, thanks to you.”
“But that does not mean you should freeze. Here, take back your coat. I am very warm, I assure you.” She stepped forward and attempted to place the coat back around his shoulders.
“No, I insist you keep it,” he protested, trying to keep the coat around her. Somehow, they ended up with one shoulder of the coat on him and one on her, standing so close their bodies brushed against one another.
Emma froze at the contact, looking up at the dark eyes of the Earl of Darington. His eyes burned with a fierce intensity, his lips parted. His dark look was similar to when he had defended her from the highwaymen. This was the true Darington. He kept a calm, distant facade, but raging beneath the surface was something wild and dangerous. Her heart pounded, but instead of pulling away, she pressed closer.
He slowly wrapped his arms around her, inside of the greatcoat, pulling her closer to him. Her hands flew to his chest, but she did not push him away. Without a word, he slowly lowered his head. He stopped just inches away from her lips. She waited, the air between them crackling with anticipation. Was he going to kiss her? Was he going to come so close and not kiss her? Waiting was agony.
Swiftly, he put an end to the debate and claimed her mouth with his. His lips pressed against hers and he pulled her closer, parting her lips with his tongue and deepening the kiss. Emma reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, holding on tightly as her heart soared. She had never experienced anything like the sensation of kissing Darington. It was like flying, though her feet never left the ground.
When they finally parted, they both took deep breaths. His greatcoat slid to the ground, forgotten. She was certainly more than warm now. When his hand slid away from her waist, she noticed that it trembled.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, turning to face the crashing waves once more, holding his hands rigidly behind his back.
Emma took several more breaths before attempting speech. “That was…” She had not the words to describe it.
“An imposition on your person,” finished Dare without turning to her.
“No, no, that was not what I was going to say.”
“It was not?” He turned slightly to her, a note of hope in his voice.
“No,” she replied firmly. “That was…quite remarkable.” Surely this must mean his offer was not just out of obligation. He actually had feelings for her. If his emotions were anything like what she was beginning to feel for him, then it was a powerful attraction.
“Wynbrook suggested I steal a kiss,” Dare admitted. “Trying to get you to change your mind about your betrothed. Not sure the action recommends my person to you, but there you have it.”
“Oh.” So his kiss did not stem from his own desires. He was merely following the suggestion of his friend. Emma stepped farther away, embarrassed at her own assumptions. His kiss had seemed demanding and passionate, but she had never kissed anyone before, so perhaps she had read more into it than there was.
“Emma,” he spoke her name like a whisper on the wind. “Only one task remains. I must share with you my…my feelings regarding you.” He cleared his throat and directed his attention to the rising moon. “I can say unequivocally that I greatly admire you. I cannot speak more on matters of the heart, for I fear I am not practiced and can hardly speak to things beyond my ken.”
He turned back to her, his eyes black against the night sky. “My offer remains unchanged. If you should decide to accept my suit, I am entirely at your service.” He bowed, picking up the coat and his walking stick. “Please allow me to escort you back to the house.”
Emma nodded mutely, unsure what to say. She took his arm and walked slowly back to the house. Her mind swirled with questions she had no idea how to ask.
It was her first kiss. Her first kiss! It had rocked her to her core—her legs were still like jelly—but Dare did not appear to be similarly affected. No, he seemed more aloof than ever. He had even admitted he had only done it on Wynbrook’s suggestion. Did this mean his feelings were indifferent?
Yet his words of praise, though not a declaration of love, seemed genuine. She believed he truly appreciated her care for him, but that did not mean he genuinely wished her to be his bride.
If he continued to offer out of obligation, then her answer to his proposal remained unchanged, no matter how much she longed for another kiss—and another and another. She would not trap anyone into marriage. No, that was something she would never do.
But what if his emotions were touched? If that was the case, things would be different entirely. If he truly liked her, wanted to marry her for her own merits, would she accept his proposal?
She glanced up at the tall, solemn man who walked stiffly back to the house as if in a funeral procession. He certainly was not the most cheerful of men, but she could not imagine wanting to embrace anyone else. Wanting to kiss anyone else.
Of course, she had gone to great lengths to arrange a marriage for herself, and it would certainly cause a dustup with the Earl of Langley and his American grandson, whichever one it was, but it would be worth it if she could marry Dare.
The man she loved.
She took a deep breath and shivered at the recognition.
But could he ever love her in return?
Without a word, Dare removed his coat and once more draped it over her shoulders as they walked back to the house.
Emma held the simple shell in her hand. It was a small thing, a little rough, with a few grains of sand still attached. It might be of no real value, but to her it was precious.
They entered the house and he bowed, a slight grimace betraying the pain it caused him to do so. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”
“Good night, my lord.”
She watched for a moment as he proceeded stiffly toward his bedchamber. She walked slowly back to her own as she turned the shell around in her fingers. Considering how much Dare was hurting, it must have cost him a great deal to be h
elped down to the beach to find the shell and struggle back up again. The gift was not the object, but the time and effort it took to give it. Would he have done so much purely out of obligation?
Perhaps his cold manner was merely his natural reserve. Wynbrook might have suggested the kiss, but it did not mean Dare was uninterested. Maybe his proposal was more genuine than she realized.
Emma flung herself on her bed, wishing she better understood the true motivations of the Earl of Darington. And yet…maybe she was thinking of this the wrong way. She had developed feelings for him, her response to his kiss proved that. Perhaps it was enough to be true to her own feelings.
She had wanted a love match, was willing to settle for a marriage of convenience to avoid an asylum, but now she was offered the chance for both. She could find a convenient marriage with a man she loved who might be beginning to feel something for her in return.
The decision was a big one. She prayed for guidance. Earlier in the day, she had felt rejecting his proposal to be the right thing to do. But now…now her heart was leaning in quite the opposite direction.
That kiss might have been only her first, but surely it demonstrated at least a spark of interest. She would have a lifetime to fan than spark into a flame. She squeezed the small shell in her hand. Tomorrow, she would accept his proposal. Tomorrow, everything in her life would change.
She fell asleep with the shell still in her hand.
Twenty-five
Emma woke the next morning with a sense of expectation. This would be the day her entire life would change. She was going to accept the proposal from Lord Darington. She scrunched her toes under the warm bedsheets with anticipation. She was going to say yes. She was going to be married!
She flung back the blankets, jumped out of the tall bed, and twirled around, ignoring the cold floorboards under her feet. She jumped back into bed and decided one of the first things she would do as mistress of this house was put rugs on the bedroom floors.
She paused even as her breath hitched. Mistress of this house. She was going to be the mistress of this house. She would be Lady Darington, a countess no less! Of course she was not marrying Dare for his title or his money or his house…but she could not deny that it was rather nice all the same.
What would Regina and Eustace say? Oh, they would be furious when they found out and would probably try to make things difficult, but no matter. She was of majority, she could do as wished, and once married to Darington, there was not a thing they could do about it.
Emma rang for Sally, who arrived with her usual ill humor, but Emma was too happy to care. She dressed quickly and proceeded down to the breakfast room. Dare and his sister, early risers both, were already there deep in conversation.
“Good morning,” Emma said brightly.
Dare rose as she entered, and she was pleased to see him move a little faster than he had the day before. It was a good sign that he was healing well.
She was a little disappointed that Kate was present—not that she did not like his reserved sister, but she wished to speak to Dare alone. The two siblings, however, were clearly discussing something of particular import, for they both had stopped as soon as she entered, their faces even more grim and serious than their usual bleak manner.
“Kate and Wynbrook believe they have found our housekeeper,” explained Dare as Emma sat beside him at the table.
“I did not know she was missing,” responded Emma.
“Our old housekeeper,” explained Kate.
Still Emma did not understand the importance of such a discovery.
“The one who worked here when our father died,” explained Dare. “And the house was—”
“Looted,” finished Kate.
“Oh!” The significance dawned on Emma. “She may have answers about what happened.”
“Yes.” Dare gave a curt nod. “We had been told she had died.”
“Took her own life,” added Kate. “But apparently she survived the suicide attempt and was sent to an asylum for many years. She has returned and is now living in the village with her daughter.”
“Excellent!” cried Emma. “I hope your audience with her will prove informative.”
“Awkward thing just to knock on the door,” Kate muttered.
“Oh, but I think it would be perfectly normal. Why, I often visit people who live in the village near my father’s estate and our tenants too. People appreciate a basket of treats and good company.”
“Good company is beyond my ability to provide,” said Kate with frank honesty. “But the basket sounds like a good plan. I wonder what to put in it.”
“If I could be of service, I could pop down to the kitchen and see what might be on hand. Those biscuits cook served yesterday were heavenly.”
“That would be appreciated,” admitted Kate.
“And you must come with us too,” Dare demanded, then continued in a more hesitant tone. “If it is not an imposition. I imagine Wynbrook will want to come as well.”
“I would be delighted,” Emma cried, truly happy he had included her. She knew he was a taciturn, private person. If he invited her to come, then he saw her as family. His family. Emma beamed broadly at the glum brother and sister and hastened to prepare a basket for a social call.
After a nice chat with the cook, Emma assembled a basket of tea and biscuits wrapped in a lovely tablecloth. She returned to the drawing room, hoping for a private audience with Darington. She was in luck, finding him reading the paper with his greatcoat lying beside him on the settee, ready to leave as soon as the party was assembled.
“I have chosen a few tempting treats,” said Emma, holding up the basket before placing it on a side table.
Dare immediately rose, flung his coat to the side, and motioned for her to sit.
Emma sat beside him on the settee, her heart beating loudly in her chest. How was one to broach the topic of marriage? “I do hope you will be able to gain the information you seek today.”
“Thank you. I do too.”
The clock ticked loudly as the seconds dragged along. She was not typically at a loss for words, but then she was not typically accepting a marriage proposal. His demeanor was so reserved it was almost fierce, which did not provide much encouragement for what she intended to say.
“I…I was thinking about our conversation last night.” She boldly initiated the topic, watching carefully for his response.
“Yes?” He remained somber but a certain softness crept into his eyes. It was the most encouragement she was going to receive. It would have to be enough.
“Yes, I would like to—”
“Robert. Miss St. James. We are ready to leave.” Kate strode into the drawing room, followed by Wynbrook.
“Looks like rain,” commented Wynbrook. “With any luck, I can get soaked through again.”
“Not if we leave now. I believe the weather will hold for a while at least,” declared Kate, looking at them expectantly.
“I was having a conversation with Miss St. James,” said Dare with a scowl.
“Perhaps you can finish it later,” returned Kate with an equally ferocious frown.
“Yes, of course,” said Emma, jumping to her feet. “We can certainly talk later over tea.” She was not sure if she was relieved or disappointed to be saved from declaring herself. Maybe she could think of a clever way to accept his proposal as they visited the old housekeeper.
A few minutes later, Emma sat in between Lord Darington and Lady Kate in the coach as Wynbrook drove them to the village. The invalid housekeeper, by the name of Mrs. Hennings, was rumored to live there with her grown daughter.
Though the dark clouds threatened rain, they drove down the five miles to the small fishing village without incident. The village was nestled around an ocean cove. Emma surveyed the small, white houses, closely clustered together, with interest. Would the
villagers be her new friends? Would they accept her the way the villagers around Waverley had?
They found the house, and Dare knocked on the door. She watched him carefully for signs of pain. Though he shifted from one foot to the other, he remained upright. He was no doubt hurting, but he was improving and Emma was happy to see it. Now if only he could find the answers he sought, maybe he could discover some peace, even joy, in his life.
A middle-aged woman in modest attire opened the door and gaped at them, her eyes wide at having such illustrious guests. Despite her deference, she resisted the request to meet with Mrs. Hennings.
“Me mother is ill, sir. She sees no one.” The housekeeper’s daughter shook her head, her distress clear.
Emma could practically feel the frustration and anxiety rise in Darington and his sister. They needed to have answers and she immediately jumped in to help. “Lord Darington and Lady Katherine have brought gifts for your table. May we come in?” asked Emma sweetly, holding up the basket.
“Yes, yes, of course!” The woman opened the door wide and ushered them into the simple dwelling. Several openmouthed children stared at them from the corner of the room that would be best described as “homey.”
Emma smiled at the children, made introductions, and chatted to put everyone at ease. The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Saunders, reluctantly granted an audience with her mother. Dare and Kate went to a back room to meet with the elderly Mrs. Hennings while Emma and Wynbrook took to keeping everyone else in the house entertained to give them time for their chat.
In this regard, Emma had a capable partner, for while she made the tea they had brought, Wynbrook regaled them with entertaining stories and kept the children amused, even wining a smile from the unsure Mrs. Saunders. When an anguished sob escaped from the room next door, Wynbrook spoke louder and Emma practically forced the biscuits on the family, both doing their best to give Dare and Kate more time. Emma prayed they would be able to find the information they needed to finally answer the question of who had attempted to destroy their lives and left them in debtor’s prison.
Earl Interrupted Page 16
