Splendid (24 page)

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Emma said, a faint smile touching her features. “Although I do think it would be wise if we restrained ourselves for the time being.” At Alex's raised eyebrow, she explained, “I really cannot describe how awful I felt this afternoon.”

“Guilt?”

“That, and confusion, too.” Emma turned away and idly examined a small clock that sat on an end table. She was proud of herself for being so honest with Alex, but all the same, such plain speaking was somewhat disconcerting.

“I wish you wouldn't feel that way.”

“I wish I wouldn't, too,” Emma replied, still directing her words to the clock. “But I'm afraid that I can't control my emotions very well, and I would rather avoid the state of turmoil I was in earlier today.”

“Emma?” And then when she didn't respond, Alex said it louder. “Emma?”

Emma turned around quickly, her bright hair settling about her face in soft waves.

Alex touched his fingers to her chin, tilting her face upward so that he could peer into the soft violet depths of her eyes. “I'm still going to try to kiss you, you know.”

“I know.”

He leaned in closer. “On every possible occasion.”

“I know.”

His lips were nearly touching hers. “I'm going to try right now.”

Emma sighed, caught in the sensual web of his voice. “I know.”

“Are you going to stop me?” he murmured against her mouth.

“No.” Emma's soft reply was lost as Alex's mouth slanted over hers. Heat poured from his lips, and Emma simply closed her eyes, losing herself in the warmth of the moment.

Alex was painfully aware that he and Emma had precious few moments together. He really would not put it past his mother to come barging into the parlor, declare Emma ravished at the sight of one kiss, and demand that he marry her on the spot. With a groan, he tore himself away from her and took a deep breath.

“This is going to be a long weekend,” he muttered, still holding her chin in his hand.

“Yes, I know,” Emma said in a very strange voice.

A light smile touched Alex's face as he looked over at Emma. She seemed to be caught in a daze, and her eyes were fixed on a point slightly to the left of Alex's elbow.

“I would love to know what is going through your mind right now,” Alex said softly, brushing a wisp of hair off of Emma's forehead.

Emma shook her head slightly as she tried to refocus her eyes. “What?” She blinked a few times. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

“I promise nothing of the kind.”

Emma blinked a few more times at that unexpected reply, and then she gazed up at his face. He was smiling at her in a rather indulgent fashion, and his green eyes glowed with the warm promise of love. “Well, I suppose I might tell you anyway,” she said softly. “I was thinking that…well, that is I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

“Actually, I was wondering how on earth I managed to remain standing when you kissed me just now.” An embarrassed smile crossed Emma's features, and she looked downward, where her foot was tracing half circles in the carpet. “I felt as if I were melting.”

Alex felt something unfamiliar flicker inside him, and there was no way he could deny the comforting warmth that suddenly suffused his body. He leaned over and briefly brushed his lips against hers. “You cannot imagine how happy I am to hear you say that.”

Emma was still running her slippered foot along the carpet, absurdly pleased at his words and unable to keep a wide smile off her face. “Perhaps you could take my arm and escort me to dinner?”

“I think that could be arranged.”

When Emma and Alex arrived in the dining room, their families were already seated around the long oak table. Because their party only numbered seven, Eugenia, preferring good conversation to formality, had seated everyone toward the head of the table, leaving the other end empty.

“I took the liberty of sitting at the head of the table,” Eugenia announced. “I know that propriety dictates that you sit here, Alex, but we
are
an informal group, and I must admit, it prickles my pride to give up my seat to my son.”

Alex raised an eyebrow as he held out a chair for Emma, shooting his mother a look that said that he did not believe a word that flew out of her mouth.

“Besides, I rather thought that you and Emma would want to sit next to each other.”

“As usual, you are very astute, Mother.”

Eugenia's smile didn't waver one bit. She turned to Emma, summarily dismissing her son. “Did you have a nice time this afternoon, my dear? Caroline tells me that you love to ride.”

Emma smiled indulgently as she sat down between Belle and the empty seat that was reserved for Alex. Eugenia was the third person that evening to ask that question. The fourth, if she counted Belle, who had been a bit more direct. “I had a lovely time, thank you. Alex was a most gracious escort.”

Belle started to cough. Emma shot her a withering glare and gave her a swift kick under the table.

“Really?” Eugenia breathed, enthralled by the scene taking place down the table. “Just how ‘gracious' was he?”

This time it was Sophie who did the kicking, and her foot connected soundly with her mother's shin.

“I was extremely gracious, Mother,” Alex said in a tone that put an end to the entire subject.

Just then Caroline let out a little yelp as Henry kicked her in the shin. “Henry!” she demanded in hushed tones. “What on earth was that for?”

“Actually, darling,” he murmured, gazing warmly into her eyes. “I was feeling left out.”

Chapter 14

T
he next morning Emma found that love had another symptom: she couldn't eat. Or rather, she couldn't eat in front of Alex. She didn't seem to have any trouble at all when he wasn't in the room.

When she arrived downstairs for breakfast, Sophie, Eugenia, and Belle were already eating. Emma was famished, and she sat down, ready to devour what looked like a scrumptious omelet.

Then Alex arrived.

Emma's stomach began to flutter as fast as a hummingbird's wings. She couldn't manage to get down a bite.

“Is the omelet not to your liking?” Eugenia asked.

“I'm not very hungry,” Emma replied quickly. “But it's delicious, thank you.”

Alex, who had strategically positioned himself right next to her, leaned over and whispered, “I can't imagine how you would know since you haven't tried a bite.”

She smiled wanly and put a forkful in her mouth. It tasted like sawdust. She looked over at Eugenia. “Perhaps just some tea.”

By lunchtime Emma thought she might perish from hunger. Alex had had to take care of some estate business, so she and Belle had spent the
morning exploring the house. When they arrived in the informal dining room, her heart sank when she realized that he wasn't there.

Her stomach, however, rejoiced.

She quickly downed a plate of roast turkey and potatoes, fearful that he would arrive any minute. After she had finished a generous helping of peas and asparagus, she thought to ask Eugenia about his whereabouts.

“Well, I was hoping he'd join us,” his mother replied. “But he had to go out to the northwest corner of the estate to inspect the damage from last week's rainstorm.”

“Is it very far?” Emma asked. Perhaps she could join him.

“Over an hour's ride, I should think.”

“I see.” She hadn't realized that Alex's landholdings were quite that vast. “Well, in that case I'll just have some of those lovely meringues.”

Emma decided with a sigh that it was most likely all for the best that he'd been called away. If he had spent every minute by her side (which she had a feeling was his original intention), she'd probably have wasted away by the time she got back to London.

But she couldn't deny the fact that, despite the disturbance Alex caused her, she longed for his company every minute he was gone. She went for a ride through the countryside, but she didn't enjoy herself because Alex wasn't there to race her to the apple tree she came across a couple of miles east of Westonbirt. And then he wasn't around to tease her when she deftly climbed the tree or to compliment her aim when she launched one of the apples into the air, pegged a weak branch, and sent five more apples tumbling down. She gave the fruit to Charlie when she returned, and he was so happy
about the prospect of fresh apple tarts that he felt compelled to race up and down the stairs six times. His exuberance was infectious, but it just didn't lift her spirits like one of Alex's smiles. Emma doubted that anything could.

On the other hand, it was fortunate that she ate one of the apples while she was perched high in the tree because she certainly didn't eat anything that night at dinner.

She didn't see Alex the next morning, either. Henry had an important meeting with his solicitor that afternoon which he declared he could not miss, and so the entire family left fairly early in the morning. Alex, tired from his treks the previous day and unaware of the Blydons' plans for such an early departure, slept quite late and missed Emma altogether.

Emma only sighed at his absence and helped herself to a hearty breakfast.

Eugenia and Sophie had already made plans to remain at Westonbirt until midweek, and Alex had decided that he couldn't very well leave with all of the storm damage to attend to, so Emma and her family had a carriage to themselves for the return trip. The moment they were on their way, Belle opened her Shakespeare, Henry pulled out some business papers, and Caroline went to sleep. Emma stared out the window, resigning herself to a ride devoid of intelligent conversation.

She wasn't disappointed.

When they arrived back at the townhouse in London, Emma breathed a sigh of relief, swore she'd bring a book on the next long trip, and dashed up the stairs to her room. The entire weekend had been emotionally draining, between her intimate encounter with Alex, her great realization that she loved him, and her inability to see him after that.
The bumpy ride back to London hadn't helped. It hadn't occurred to her how tired she really was until she fell onto her bed and realized that she wasn't going to get up for at least another week.

Or until someone knocked on her door ten seconds later.

“Hello, Emma.” Ned opened the door and poked his head into the room before she had a chance to answer. “Did you have a good weekend?” At her weary nod he continued. “Excellent. You look quite refreshed.”

Emma, who was lying on her stomach with her right cheek pressed into the bed and her arm twisted over her head at a somewhat unnatural angle, raised her eyes skeptically and realized that he wasn't being the least bit sarcastic; he appeared quite distracted, and she doubted he'd actually taken a good look at her.

“Did you have a good weekend?” she inquired. “I imagine you enjoyed your brief period of freedom.”

Ned shuffled into the room, shut the door, and leaned against Emma's desk. “Let's just say I had an
interesting
weekend.”

“Oh dear.”

“Why don't you tell me about your weekend first?”

Emma shrugged, pushing herself up into a sitting position, her back supported by the mountain of pillows that leaned against the headboard of her bed. “It was exactly what you would imagine.”

“A bunch of people trying to get you married?”

Including me
. “Exactly. But I still managed to have a good time. It's nice to get out of the city. It's so congested here.”

“Good, good.” Ned started rocking back and forth on his heels, and Emma got the impression that he
wasn't paying any attention to what she was saying.

“Is something wrong, Ned?”

He took a deep breath. “Well, you could say that.” He walked over to the window and looked out, turned around and faced her, crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and started pacing.

“You should get more exercise,” Emma quipped.

Ned might have heard her, but he certainly wasn't listening. “Nothing is
seriously
wrong. I mean, it's nothing that can't be fixed if I put my mind to it. Of course my mind isn't worth a lot of money, you know.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Not in the physical sense, no.”

“It isn't as if anyone died or anything like that.” Ned shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered, “At least not yet.”

Emma hoped she'd heard him wrong.

“The thing is, Emma, I need your advice. And maybe your help. You're one of the smartest people I know. Belle, now, she's smart, too. Can't beat her when it comes to literature and how many languages does she speak? Three? I think she can read a few others, too. Not much of a head for math, but she's sharp, my sister is. But she's too damned practical. Just last month she—” Ned stopped, drew back his shoulders sharply and looked at Emma with a stricken expression. “Oh God, Emma. I can't even remember my original sentence. I know I didn't come in here to discuss my sister. What was I saying?” He collapsed into a chair.

Emma bit her lip. Ned's head was hanging over the back of her chair. The situation looked grim, indeed. “Um, I believe it was something about wanting my advice.”

“Oh, right.” Ned grimaced. “I've gotten myself into a bit of a mess.”

“Really?”

“I was playing cards.”

Emma groaned and closed her eyes.

“Now, hold on a second, Emma,” Ned protested. “I don't need a lecture on the vices of cards.”

“I wasn't going to give you one. It's just when the statement ‘I was playing cards' is prefaced by ‘I've gotten myself into a bit of a mess, ' it usually means that someone owes someone else a great deal of money.”

Ned didn't say anything; he just sat there looking pained.

“How much?” Emma thought quickly, mentally adding up her savings. She hadn't spent very much of her allowance recently. She might be able to bail out her cousin.