Patrick's Proposal (The Langley Legacy Book 2)

by Hildie McQueen

  She tugged him by the hand to the table and waited for him to sit.

  The entire time he ate, he studied her. Her intentions were clear and Patrick wasn’t fooled by how their evening would end. Hopefully, it was their lack of lovemaking that had him so morose as of late.

  “It’s very good. You’ve learned quickly,” Patrick said as he ate with gusto. “I believe Ma will have competition soon as to who makes the better roast.”

  A shiver of delight ran through her as she watched him eat. “Thank you.”

  “How are the horses adapting?” She ran her finger down his forearm. “They are so beautiful.”

  His gaze followed her finger. “Ummm...yes.”

  “Yes?” she teased.

  Patrick smiled and Emma was hopeful this night would bring them closer when it was just the two of them. She narrowed her eyes. It could be he was a bit jealous of her family and, perhaps, fearful she’d be more enamored with them.

  “I missed you, Patrick,” she told him with sincerity. “I honestly wanted to come home just the day after you left. I was torn between the excitement of my new family and wanting to be with you.” She brought his hand to her lips and sucked on the tip of one finger. “I don’t like being apart from you.”

  His eyes widened for a moment. “I missed you as well.”

  “I know things are a bit different now that I have discovered my new family and I want to visit them often. However, I don’t want it to change us. I don’t want you to think for an instant that things will be different between us. Our marriage is what matters the most to me.”

  There was a visible change in Patrick. His lips curved at her words and his shoulders lowered. He nodded, seeming unable to formulate words.

  When he pushed back in the chair and stood, a tingle traveled through her. “I think we should chat now,” he said, motioning toward the fireplace with his head.

  “We haven’t had dessert yet.”

  Patrick ignored the comment and lifted Emma up into his arms. “Is anything on the stove?”

  A trickle of heat coursed through her body and she shook her head. “No.”

  In quick strides, he carried her to the blankets on the floor as if she weighed no more than a feather. Placing her upright, Patrick tugged the chemise off, leaving Emma bare. She didn’t try to hide her nudity, allowing him to take his fill of her.

  The entire time, he quickly undressed, Patrick watched her as she lowered to the blankets and waited.

  He was magnificent, his broad chest expanding with every breath as he removed his pants to expose slender hips and an already aroused state. Emma bit her bottom lip in anticipation as he stepped closer.

  She reached for him and slid her hands up his thighs to take his manhood with both hands. She stroked the silky length as Patrick inhaled sharply. He needed her touch as much as she needed his.

  Leaning forward, she licked at the tip and then sucked it into her mouth. He tasted so rich, so much like a man. It didn’t last long. She licked his length just a few times before Patrick pushed her back a bit and rounded to stand behind her.

  “Put your hands on the floor, Emma,” he instructed. His breathing, harsh with want in her ear, sent tingles through her.

  She did as he bid and he caressed her buttocks while pulling them apart. He trailed kisses from her lower back to each side while sliding his fingers down the center to her sex.

  “I missed this so much,” Patrick said between licks and nips.

  When he nudged at her entrance, Emma pushed back ready for him, needing him to take her fully.

  Both moaned as he pushed in little by little, giving her the opportunity to expand and accept all of him. When he was in deep, Patrick pulled back only to push back in. Emma gasped and grabbed at the blankets. “Yes.”

  At first, his movements were languid and leisurely, but soon the tempo became harder and faster. Emma mewled into the blankets when he reached between her legs to stroke the tiny bud at her very center. She lost control within seconds and would have collapsed onto the blankets if he’d not held her by the hips.

  Patrick waited as she finished and rolled her to her back. He settled between her legs and took her mouth with hunger.

  Their tongues tangled with desperation as she dug her fingernails into his back, urging for more. Unable to hold back the barrage of sensations that slammed into her so hard, she screamed.

  And still, he continued, thrusting in and pulling back out over and over again until Emma thought she would pass out. Emma wasn’t sure if she could take any more, each thrust seeming harder and deeper.

  At the same time, she didn’t want him to ever stop. The delightful world created by their lovemaking was a place where they were alone and intimately joined as one.

  With a guttural roar, Patrick cried out and his entire body stiffened just as he spilled. Emma gasped, attempting to catch her breath when he drove in and out a few more times while shaking with his release.

  Dessert remained untouched.

  In the nest of blankets, Emma snuggled against Patrick, too spent to move.

  “How are you feeling? You seem a bit distant lately.” It had taken a great deal to bring up the courage to ask. If he declared anything that would change between them, Emma wasn’t sure she would be able to stand it. Her emotions were raw after so much happening lately.

  The lifting and lowering of his chest as Patrick expelled a breath was a bit alarming. “Everything is well, Emma. Don’t worry.”

  His arms tightened around her. “I like this. Just us.”

  The strong beats of his heart soothed her a bit. He’d not been honest. Whatever bothered her husband remained.

  Chapter 12

  Winter arrived with rainstorms, which kept Patrick indoors for days on end. When he ventured out several times a day to check on the animals, he always returned drenched and shivering.

  It seemed the livestock fared better than he did on most occasions. The horses were warm, fed and secure in their stalls, the goats and chickens in covered pens and the cattle, for the most part, seemed oblivious to the cold. Many of the cows chose to ignore the covered shelter they provided.

  It was early one day when he walked into the house, quickly removing his sodden clothes to hang by the fire to dry.

  Although he still maintained the deep need to hear her declare her love, Patrick had come to accept that it may never happen. When he considered that she was a passionate woman and cared well for him and the house, there was little to complain about.

  Even if Emma wasn’t in love with him, it did not preclude her from desiring him. A smile curved his lips at sometimes having to claim weariness to keep his feisty wife at bay. Unlike other men who bemoaned their frigid wives, Patrick was lucky in that regard.

  Why did it matter so much that she loved him? It could be that, upon declaring his feelings, he’d left himself raw and open.

  Patrick shook his head at the fanciful notions and wondered where Emma was. He warmed by the fireplace and waited a bit.

  Emma was somewhere in the back and, for a moment, he took in the differences in the house over the last few weeks. She’d recovered the sofa and with the addition of furniture from her parents’ home, pillows and new curtains, it barely resembled the house he’d grown up in.

  When she emerged from the back looking pale, he wondered if she was about to take ill from the weather.

  “Are you unwell, Emma?” He hurried to her, ignoring that he was only wearing his damp underpants.

  Emma held him back. “You’re wet.” She absently shook her head. “I must have eaten something that made my stomach upset. Three days now, I’ve felt a bit nauseous.”

  Although he’d not noticed any changes in her, Patrick thought back to what they’d eaten that morning. “All we had was eggs and toast. Maybe you’re sick. Should I fetch Ma?”

  “No,” she replied shaking her head. “It passes quickly enough. I’ll talk to her tonight when we go for supper.”

  They
normally went to his parents’ house on Wednesdays for supper and Emma always looked forward to spending time learning new recipes or household skills.

  Although the main house was only a few minutes’ walk, Emma claimed to miss seeing his mother. He was sure the women spoke almost daily, but he refrained from mentioning it.

  He went on to the bedroom to find dry clothes, only to stop at the mess in the bedroom. The bedding was piled on the floor and clothes were strewn here and there. A water pitcher was on its side on the floor and there was some sort of plate of food on a side table.

  “Emma?” he asked. “What were you doing back here?”

  She came to stand behind him. “I hate this room.” With that explanation, she walked in and tugged at the bedpost. “I want to move the bed over there.” She pointed to the wall to the right.

  “We can’t move the bed with all the things on the floor.” Patrick came to her and attempted to nuzzle her neck, but she moved away.

  “I am cleaning.” To his horror, she plopped down on the bed and began crying. “I don’t want the bed here anymore,” Emma said between sobs.

  Not sure what to do, he neared. “Get up, Emma. I’ll move the bed. Let me do it.”

  He tugged and pushed until the bed was repositioned. Emma let out a squeal of delight, rushing to him and throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what’s come over me. I didn’t mean to act so childish.”

  He enjoyed the feel of his curvy wife against his body. He hugged her close and kissed her neck. “With this kind of gratitude, I’ll move anything you want.”

  “I love you so much, Patrick.” Her declaration took his breath away. The words he’d been waiting to hear rang like a choir of angels and he found it hard to think beyond what she’d uttered.

  Emma tilted her face up. She smiled brightly, trailing her gaze to his mouth. Taking her cue, he kissed her soundly, allowing her to guide him down to the bed. If ever there was a way to warm up, this was his favorite.

  “You’re so cold,” Emma murmured between kisses, giggling when he slid his hands under her skirts.

  “If you really love me, you would offer to warm me up.” He wanted to hear the words again.

  Her lips curved as she peered up at him. “I do love you.” When she tugged him closer, they fell backward onto the bed.

  Moments later, they moved in unison, the lovemaking frantic until Emma pushed at Patrick’s shoulders. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “N-now?” Patrick couldn’t stop as he neared climax. “I-I can’t stop.”

  Somehow, she managed to twist and push him back as she leaned over the side of the bed and threw up into the pan they kept under the bed.

  “S-sorry.” Emma wiped at her mouth and let out a moan. She studied him and giggled. Of course, he presented an awkward picture, lying on his back still fully erect.

  He wondered at her erratic mood swings. Had she been drinking while he was out of the house?

  He lifted onto his elbows and frowned at her. “It’s not your fault. Get dressed. We’re going to see Ma. She’ll know what to do.”

  Pacing as she pulled her chemise over her head, Emma rattled off as if she’d not just been sick. “The bedroom is a mess. It’s been irritating me all day. I don’t feel up to going. Can you go and bring me back something? I can’t possibly go and get sick after eating. We’ll go in the morning. I need to pick up.”

  While she prattled on picking one thing up and putting it back down, he went to the kitchen. On the shelf was a jug of whiskey, which was full. So she had not been drinking. He sat down and looked to the stove. His stomach grumbled.

  He went to the fireplace to get his now dry clothes and put them on. “I’ll be back with something for you to eat,” he called out.

  “Tell your mother I’ll see her in the morning,” Emma called back cheerfully.

  Odd, very odd.

  The next morning, the rain continued but, thankfully, it was only a drizzle. Patrick planned to let the animals out for fresh air for the day once he and Emma went to speak to his mother.

  It was still early when they arrived at his parents’ and the aroma of bacon wafted through the air. Patrick smiled at Emma. “We’re just in time.”

  Emma had turned a dreadful shade of green. “I’ll wait on the porch for a bit. I don’t want to get sick inside.” She lowered to a rocker, gripping the sides of it. “Oh goodness.”

  After knocking, Patrick walked back to her and ran his hand over her back. “Breathe and relax. Hopefully, it will help.”

  “Why are you standing outside?” His mother walked out and immediately hurried to Emma. “Are you ill?”

  “She’s been nauseous and getting sick. This morning, she was fine until we got here.” Patrick looked to the door with longing and he felt bad that his hunger didn’t abate at his wife’s distress. “Could’ve caught what I had.”

  Emma pointed to the door. “It was the smell of the bacon. My stomach has been sensitive the last few days.”

  “Patrick,” his mother said to him, her face without expression. “Go inside and have breakfast with your father. I need to talk with Emma.”

  For some reason, dread curdled in his gut and, like Emma, he lost his appetite. “I will stay and make sure she doesn’t require help.”

  “Go inside, Son.” His mother met his gaze. “I believe this is a delicate matter between women that we must discuss without a man present.”

  At the words, he backed away. Whatever happened, if it was a womanly thing, he would not be able to help in any way. Not at the moment anyway.

  Strange, Emma had been enjoying their lovemaking. It wasn’t until quite a bit after they began making love that she’d gotten sick. Whatever ailed her had not impeded his wife from a teasing game of seduction the night before.

  Patrick scratched at his head as he walked into the kitchen.

  “Morning, Son,” his father greeted, motioning to his cup. “Pour me some coffee since you’re up.”

  When Patrick settled at the table with a plate of bacon and eggs, he studied his father for a moment. “Pa, what do women mean when they say they have a delicate womanly matter to discuss?”

  Finn looked past him to the doorway. “Is that what they’re doing now?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Could have to do with their monthly courses. Or with some sort of ailment that comes with that. It’s always about that it seems.”

  “Emma asked me to heat a brick for her one time. We wrapped it in one of my old shirts and she held it against her stomach. Said it helped ease the

  Chapter 13

  pains.”

  His father nodded. “Has she been hurting?”

  “No, but she’s been getting sick.”

  Slowly, his father’s lips curved. “Ah.”

  Not sure what that meant, Patrick ate in silence. Every so often, he’d look over his shoulder to the doorway.

  “Patrick.” Emma was at the doorway. No longer green, she had a strange smile on her pale face. His mother stood next to her with the same look.

  He got to his feet. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

  Emma rushed to him and threw her arms around his waist. “We...we are going to be parents.”

  The room turned and tilted.

  “There he goes.” His father’s voice sounded far away as he fell to the floor.

  “Oh goodness.” It sounded as if his mother was laughing.

  Patrick opened his eyes to a smiling Emma over him. “You fainted.”

  “I passed out.”

  His father chuckled. “Get up, Patrick. We have work to do. Let’s hope you don’t swoon off your horse.”

  He sat up and hugged Emma, kissing her face. “You are expecting?”

  “Yes.” She laughed. “It’s why I’m feeling so different and...moody.”

  “I like some of your moods,” he whispered into her ear. When his father cleared his throat, he relinquished the hold on Emma and
got to his feet. His mother hugged him and sniffed. “I’m so happy for you both.”

  “Thanks, Ma.” Over his mother’s head, he noticed his father wipe at his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

  For whatever reason, since marrying, he’d not considered children. Of course, he understood the mechanics of it, but hadn’t given it much thought.

  So much had happened in the last months. Between the quick, unplanned marriage and the changes in Emma’s life, Davis’ death and such, they’d not had a chance to discuss the future much further than the next day.

  Was it too soon to have a child? Patrick wasn’t positive he was ready.

  There wasn’t much to be done about it now. Whether he and Emma were prepared or not, they were about to become a father and a mother to a child.

  “When do you think it will happen?” He met his mother’s warm gaze.

  “I would say probably late summer. Since Emma just began having notions. It’s probably early yet.”

  He couldn't help reaching for Emma. “I should probably walk you home and put you to bed.”

  “I am going to stay here for a bit and eat breakfast. I find that I’m very hungry now. Then I will go home and do what I normally do. I am fine. Don’t worry.”

  His mother pushed at his arm. “Go on with your father. Emma will be fine. This is a most natural thing.”

  With reluctance, he finally trudged out the door. Life certainly had a curious way of turning in different directions.

  Once outside, he looked back at the house one more time.

  His father was in the stables tightening the straps of the saddle on Patrick’s horse. Apparently while he’d dawdled, his father had time to saddle both horses.

  “She’ll be fine, Son. I understand how you feel. Your mother and I had several arguments when I didn’t want to leave her alone at home all day. She was right. You arrived healthy and she recovered. Everything turned out fine.”

  “Emma was so sick this morning.”

  “I believe it. In many ways, women are stronger than we are. They carry another life in their bodies and continue on with the day-to-day tasks. Can’t see how they do it.”