Improper Miss Darling

by Gail Whitiker

  ‘You worry too much. I already call your sister Linette. Why should I not call you Emma?’

  Because it is my sister who is marrying into your family, Emma wanted to tell him, but she doubted he would understand. She wasn’t sure she understood herself.

  ‘I think I am well enough to stand. I need to get home. They will be wondering where I am.’

  ‘Very well. But I shall get up first and help you to your feet.’

  Emma nodded her agreement. It would be too embarrassing to try to regain her feet, only to collapse in a heap at his feet. She watched him rise, admiring his ease of motion. For such a tall man, he moved with surprising grace. Once standing, he bent down and placed his hands under her arms, then slowly raised her up.

  It seemed right that she should put her hands on his forearms as he drew her to her feet. Even right to leave them there as they straightened together. But it was not right to think about letting them slip around his waist as she leaned into his strength…or to close her eyes and press her face against the warmth of his chest…

  Unfortunately, that was exactly what happened. The moment she tried to stand on her own, Emma’s knees buckled and the world began to waver…‘Oh!’

  His arms went around her in an instant. ‘You’re not strong enough to ride alone,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘I’ll ride with you.’ Changing his position so that his arm encircled her waist, he led her back towards his horse. ‘Lean against him while I fetch the mare,’ Alex advised. ‘And don’t worry. He won’t move and he doesn’t bite.’

  Emma did as she was told, thankful the big bay stood as motionless as he did. Alex walked across to where Bess stood flicking her ears back and forth and picked up the reins. He led her back across the grass, then swung up into his own saddle and looped the mare’s reins through the leather strap of his saddle bag. ‘All right, Emma, up you come.’

  He lifted her with no more effort than had she been a child, gently placing her on the saddle in front of him and settling her so that her left side was resting against his chest, his arms on either side of her, holding her steady. Emma couldn’t believe she was so weak. Just the act of being lifted on to Thunder’s back had made her head spin. ‘I’m sorry to be so silly,’ she muttered. ‘This has never happened to me before.’

  ‘No need to apologise.’ Alex pressed his heels gently into the bay’s sides. ‘It’s not always easy to predict the effect a head injury will have.’

  In spite of herself, Emma snorted. ‘I don’t have a head injury. I merely bumped my head. There is a difference.’

  ‘Only if one has an effect and the other does not,’ Alex said. ‘In this case, you’re dizzy and disoriented. Those are signs of a head injury as far as I’m concerned.’

  Fearing that arguing might only make her feel worse, Emma subsided into silence. There was nothing she could do. The big horse’s gait was surprisingly smooth; as she nestled against Alex’s chest, it was all she could do to stay awake. Every time she closed her eyes, her head lolled back against his shoulder.

  ‘Stop fighting, Emma,’ he whispered. ‘If you want to close your eyes, do so. I won’t let you fall. You have my word as a gentleman.’

  She didn’t doubt him. Not for a moment. She would never fall as long as she was in his arms—but it was just unconscionable that she should enjoy it so much.

  Finally, however, she did stop fighting. She lay back against him, aware of the rhythmic beating of his heart; with his arms enclosing her and the mare trotting peacefully behind them, they made their way home.

  * * *

  Alex knew the moment Emma settled into sleep. He felt her body go limp and heard her breathing settle into a deep, even pattern. How small she seemed in his arms. The first time they’d met, he’d thought her more substantial, but today, the top of her head barely reached his chin.

  Strange the protective instincts she aroused within him. Alex thought he had experienced the full range of emotions when it came to women—fascination, admiration, lust—but he had never experienced this overwhelming need to protect. Perhaps because he had never been called upon to do so. The women with whom he associated were either the society ladies he flirted with or the demi-reps he bedded. And, given that the latter had no interest in holding anything back, Alex had never felt anything but the need to indulge himself.

  Why, then, was this feeling for Emma Darling so different?

  Whatever it was, he’d have to get it in hand. His unwelcome awareness of Emma Darling as a woman was something he hadn’t anticipated and it definitely wasn’t part of his plans. His plans were to propose to Glynnis after the house party and get on with his life. That was what everyone expected.

  Certainly it was what Glynnis expected. They had been friends for a long time. When she had first made her debut in society, it was Alex to whom she had turned for guidance and Alex with whom she had danced her first dance. And when, over the course of those first few weeks, she had spent time in the company of other men, she had never taken any of them seriously. She was typically cool and reserved, almost analytical in her assessment of them, and she had always come back to Alex.

  Perhaps that’s why their relationship had become the eminently suitable partnership it was. Neither of them was ruled by passion. They liked each other and made decisions calmly and intelligently, the way decisions were supposed to be made. Matters were always far less complicated when emotions weren’t involved.

  Why, then, was he having so much troubling separating the two when it came to Emma?

  * * *

  She awoke within sight of Dove’s Hollow. Alex felt her stir, heard the softness of an unguarded sigh, then felt her body stiffen as she realised where she was.

  ‘Relax, Emma, we’re almost home,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘You have nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I’m not worried,’ she said huskily. ‘But my family will be if they see me slumped against you like this.’

  He smiled, aware they would worry far more about the fact the two of them were riding the same horse than they would about how erect her posture was. Nevertheless, he was sorry to see their enforced closeness come to an end. He had enjoyed, more than he cared to admit, the softness of Emma’s body against his. Perhaps because it had been such a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms. Once he had made up his mind to marry Glynnis, he had parted company with his mistress, feeling it was unfair to his future wife to carry on with the affair. And naturally, there hadn’t been anything of a physical nature between himself and Glynnis. Their time together was usually spent in conversation or in the company of others. They had held hands on more than one occasion, and twice they had kissed, but at Glynnis’s request they had gone no further than that.

  There would be plenty of time for passion after they were married, Alex assured himself.

  Still, holding Emma Darling now was a pleasurable experience beyond any he had ever known. Her hair felt like strands of silk against his chin and he was aware of the most delightful fragrance emanating from her. Something sweet, yet sensual. And not for the first time that day, he was grateful for whatever whim of fate had sent him down that particular path, resulting in his finding a wrecked trap in the road and its winsome owner in desperate need of his help.

  As expected, their arrival at Dove’s Hollow created quite a stir. Linette ran out first, followed closely by her aunt and then by her father, his face lined with concern as he ran up to greet them. ‘Lord Stewart, what’s happened?’

  ‘Your daughter is fine, Mr Darling,’ Alex was quick to reassure them. ‘The trap broke a wheel and Miss Darling hit her head when she fell backwards into the cart.’

  ‘Gracious, it was very good of you to stop and help,’ Mrs Grand said.

  ‘Indeed it was.’ Mr Darling reached up his arms and, carefully, Emma slid down into them. ‘Emma, my dear, are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine, Papa,’ Emma said, even though Alex suspected the motion set her head to pounding again. ‘It’s r
eally not at all serious.’

  ‘We’ll let the doctor be the judge of that. Linette, send Jenks for the doctor. Ask him to come as quickly as he can.’

  ‘Yes, Papa,’ the girl said and promptly disappeared.

  ‘Lord Stewart, we are indebted to you,’ Mr Darling said. ‘Will you stay and take some refreshment with us?’

  ‘Another time.’ Alex had dismounted and was already unfastening the mare’s reins. ‘I think Miss Darling needs to rest.’ He glanced at Emma’s white face and knew she didn’t need a stranger around right now, especially one of whom she had no reason to be overly fond. ‘But I would ask that you send me word of her condition so that I may be assured no complications have set in.’

  ‘We will certainly keep you apprised,’ Mr Darling said. ‘And again, we are in your debt for having brought her safely home.’

  Alex inclined his head as the three of them walked back into the house. He watched until the door closed behind them, but as he swung up into the saddle, he refused to ask himself why it mattered that Emma had not turned to look back at him.

  * * *

  He waited impatiently for word of her condition. He assured himself there was nothing to worry about. That it had been only a light bump to the back of her head. If it had been more, he would have seen signs of it straight away. Nevertheless, Alex was relieved when he finally received Mr Darling’s letter, saying that the doctor had called and that the bump Emma had sustained was not serious. The application of cold cloths had brought the swelling down and she had managed to sleep for most of the afternoon.

  He refolded the letter, pleased by the news that Emma was all right, but alarmed at how much better he felt upon receiving it. He had been on tenterhooks all afternoon. A natural reaction, he tried to tell himself, for the young lady whose sister would soon be his brother’s wife.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Alex,’ Peter said, walking into the billiards room. ‘I thought you’d gone up. Is that a letter from Lady Glynnis?’

  Alex glanced at the parchment in his hand. It seemed a waste of time to tell Peter about the events of the afternoon now that everything had been satisfactorily resolved. ‘No.’ He folded it up and slipped it into his jacket. ‘Care for a game?’

  ‘Yes, though you’ll probably just beat me again.’

  ‘Only if you don’t concentrate.’ Alex racked the balls as Peter took down his cue. ‘You may break.’

  Peter did, then stood back to survey the table. ‘So, Mother tells me you’re planning to ask Glynnis to marry you in the very near future. That must have made Father happy.’

  ‘It did.’ Alex also surveyed the table. Bending down, he sighted his cue, then smoothly drew it back. ‘He’s always thought highly of Glyn.’

  ‘The two of you have been friends for a long time. I remember the day you told Father you were thinking about her as a wife. He didn’t stop smiling for a week.’

  ‘I know. He used to tease Glyn unmercifully,’ Alex said, watching the ball drop into the pocket. ‘Said she was too tall and skinny and that she squeaked when she got excited. But she was never afraid of him. Not like the other girls. ‘He bent down to take another shot. ‘Glyn always gave as good as she got. That’s why he liked her so much. And why I did.’

  ‘No doubt,’ Peter said, leaning against the edge of the table. ‘So, when were you going to tell me about Father’s being ill?’

  Alex glanced up. ‘If you recall, I mentioned it while we were at dinner with the Darlings.’

  ‘Telling our guests that Father had to stay in London because he wasn’t feeling well isn’t quite the same as telling me he collapsed as the result of a bad heart. How serious is it?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know.’ Alex took his shot and then watched the ball roll the length of the table, stopping just short of the pocket. ‘Serious enough that Mother had to call in Harrow.’

  ‘Good Lord.’

  ‘I know. Came as a shock to me as well.’

  ‘Do you think it’s his heart?’

  ‘That’s what Harrow said.’

  ‘But he can’t know for sure?’

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that Harrow said Father has to start taking better care of himself.’

  ‘And to avoid stressful situations,’ Peter murmured drily. ‘God knows I’m not helping in that regard, am I?’

  ‘Well, I’d be lying if I said the circumstances of your engagement haven’t caused him some additional aggravation,’ Alex said, straightening. ‘But I doubt you’re the only source of frustration in his life.’

  ‘So what am I supposed to do?’ Peter asked, his forehead furrowing. ‘End my engagement to Linette just to make Father happy?’

  ‘Is that so unreasonable?’

  ‘It is to me.’

  ‘Maybe you should look at your reasons for wishing to marry her,’ Alex said. ‘Analyse what you stand to gain from the alliance.’

  ‘My reasons for marrying her are simple,’ Peter said. ‘I love her. And what I expect to gain from the marriage is the opportunity to spend the rest of my life with the woman I want to be with more than any other. What more could a man ask?’

  ‘The respect of his friends and society,’ Alex said quietly. ‘The knowledge that he has lived up to his obligations with regards to his family and his name. There are those who share Father’s concern about the wisdom of this marriage, Peter. People who expected you to do better.’

  ‘I couldn’t have done any better. Linette makes me happy.’

  ‘But a man cannot always concern himself solely with his own happiness. Marriages are made for the good of both parties and for the benefit of the family.’

  ‘Your marriage, Alex, not mine,’ Peter said quietly. ‘I don’t need to worry about producing an heir.’

  ‘That’s a rather narrow point of view.’

  ‘Is it? I prefer to think of it as being realistic, the same as my acceptance of your superiority at billiards. See? You’ve won again.’

  Alex didn’t give a damn about the billiards game. He cared about his brother. And the more time he spent in conversation with him, the more he feared he wasn’t going to be able to change Peter’s mind about Linette Darling.

  ‘Alex, would you be willing to do something for me?’ Peter said, putting his cue back on the rack.

  ‘If I can.’

  ‘Come out with us this week. Spend some time with Linette and see what kind of woman she is. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed. And if you speak up on her behalf, I know Father will feel better about the marriage. He won’t listen to me, but he respects your opinion. He always has.’

  It was a lot to ask. Alex knew it wasn’t so much Linette Darling his father resented, but what she represented. The earl expected both of his sons to marry well-born ladies. Linette didn’t fit into that mould. She had been raised and educated in the country. She was not well read, had very little fashion sense and likely hadn’t been taught any but the most rudimentary of country dances. She was not a lady born to the role.

  And no matter how lovely or pleasant she was, nothing was ever going to change that.

  * * *

  Emma was in the garden sketching when Alex arrived to pay a visit the next morning. Given that her neck and shoulders were still tender as a result of her tumble into the trap, she had decided not to venture out as far out as the pond, but to sit in the shade of the towering oak tree, beneath which stood an old stone angel.

  The angel had long been a source of artistic frustration to Emma. Not only was the colour of the stone difficult to replicate, but the details of the angel’s features had all but worn away. Only her wings seem to have maintained any semblance of their original texture and Emma was fully engaged in trying to replicate their feathery look when she heard the crunch of gravel and turned to see the gentleman walking towards her.

  The quiver of anticipation was automatic—and instantly quelled. She had no right to feel anything beyond the mildest friendship for Alex, but facts were facts an
d she knew there was no use in pretending otherwise. She liked Alexander Taylor. Worse, she was attracted to him. Not only because he was a remarkably handsome man, but because he was turning out to be a surprisingly compassionate one. She had been startled by the degree of concern he had shown towards her yesterday, and though it was pointless to complain about the way he had brought her home, she certainly couldn’t pretend she hadn’t enjoyed being held in his arms. He was a man who commanded respect and affection simply as a result of who he was.

  And with every day that passed, Emma grew more and more aware of how deeply she was coming to like and admire him.

  ‘Good morning, Emma,’ he greeted her. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing your concentration.’

  ‘I was already disturbed by my inability to capture the wispy quality of the angel’s wings.’ Emma kept her sketch pad poised, glad to have something other than him upon which to focus. ‘As you can see, it is an ongoing battle.’

  He stopped and glanced over her shoulder at the sketchpad. ‘But you have captured it.’ He leaned forwards to indicate a line. ‘See here, how you’ve made this piece look so wispy and this one so bold. It is exactly how the statue looks.’

  Emma tried to ignore the warmth of his arm as it pressed against her shoulder. ‘Thank you, my lord, but if you look more closely, you will see that the edge of this wing is too heavy, and up here, there isn’t enough shading where the top of the wing curves over. And I’ve done a terrible job of capturing her expression.’

  ‘On the contrary, it is the angel’s expression that is lacking,’ Alex said, straightening. ‘You have given her a very nice smile. The statue’s is somewhat…evil.’

  Emma chuckled. ‘Only because a piece of her mouth was knocked off during a windstorm. Poor thing. She originally had a very pretty mouth.’

  ‘Not unlike the lady attempting to sketch her.’

  Emma’s head snapped up. He was smiling at her—and, stupidly, it went straight to her heart. How in the world was she to keep him at a distance if he continued to be charming like this?