by Julia Quinn
“Oh, really,” Emma scoffed. “You didn’t say anything in Woodside’s study. I didn’t have my coat on then,” she reminded him.
“I didn’t notice,” Alex bit out. “It was dark.”
She shrugged. “Get on with your lecture, will you? I’ve had a long day.”
Alex took a deep breath. He was convinced she was deliberately trying to provoke him. He could grant her that. She had every right to be furious with him over his behavior the day before. But that didn’t excuse her blatant disregard for her own welfare this evening. “Do you have any idea what kind of danger you placed yourself in tonight?” he finally asked, trying to keep his tone even.
“We had a very good plan,” Emma returned. “Which obviously worked.”
“Oh, really? Do tell me about this plan of yours. What were you planning to do if Woodside came home and surprised you while you were burgling his study?”
“Belle is keeping him busy at Lady Mottram’s. She promised us that she wouldn’t let him leave before midnight.”
“And what if she failed?” Alex demanded. “Your cousin is hardly strong enough to restrain a grown man.”
“Oh, use your head,” Emma snapped. “Woodside has been drooling over her for a year. He would never leave a party while she was flirting with him.”
“But you couldn’t be sure of that. He might have taken ill and had to leave.”
“It’s called a calculated risk, your grace. We take them every day of our lives.”
“Damn it, Emma!” Alex exploded, raking his hand through his hair. “Of all the harebrained, damned fool things to do! If Woodside had caught you he could have thrown you in prison! Or worse!” he added meaningfully.
“I had to take the chance. Ned was in trouble and he needed help. I don’t abandon the people I love,” she said sharply.
Something in Alex snapped at that moment, and he took her by the shoulders, shaking her and clutching her as if he were holding on for dear life. “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? Do you?”
Emma gulped, closing her eyes tightly as she tried to quell the tears that had been rolling nonstop down her cheeks for nearly a day. She had to compose herself. She couldn’t let him see her cry.
Alex stopped shaking her, but he didn’t release his hold, and Emma found his touch oddly comforting. The very heat of him seemed to pour through her shirt, and a small part of Emma longed to throw herself against him and wrap herself in his strong arms. But a larger part of her still stung from his brutal temper the day before. His lack of trust in her had wounded her to the core. “I wasn’t aware that you cared, your grace,” she answered very quietly.
“Well, I do!” he said savagely, turning away from her and banging his hands down on his writing table. “I care too damned much. I nearly went insane today, knowing that you were involved in some ridiculous scheme and not being able to stop you.”
“How did you know?” Emma asked, perching herself on the edge of the bed.
“Dunford overheard you and Belle talking earlier this afternoon,” Alex said flatly. “He heard you say something about how imperative it was that Belle meet Woodside tonight at Lady Mottram’s. Considering Woodside’s character, we were both frantic.”
“I would have thought you’d have been content to leave me to the wolves.”
“I made a mistake yesterday,” Alex said hoarsely, still facing away from her. “I’m sorry.”
Emma’s eyes widened with shock over his admission. He was a proud man, and she couldn’t imagine that apologies came easily to him. As he stood leaning against the table, every line of his body spoke of raw tension and pain. This wasn’t easy for him, she knew that. And he was probably racked with guilt over his behavior. Her heart went out to him— she couldn’t stop it if she tried, she loved him so much. But none of her tender feelings could erase her pain. “I accept your apology,” she said with quiet dignity.
Alex whirled around, hope and doubt colliding in his eyes.
“But that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to forget,” Emma added sadly. “We’re not going to be able to go back to the way we were.”
“Emma, if you needed money for Ned, you could have asked me for it.”
“What was I supposed to do, Alex? Walk up to you and ask you for a loan of ten thousand pounds?”
“I would have given it to you.”
“I’m sure you would have, but I wouldn’t have felt comfortable with it, and I don’t think Ned would have, either. Besides, it seemed silly when I have more than enough money of my own. I’ve got an inheritance right here in London. It’s in trust until I reach my twenty-first birthday.” She swallowed nervously, glancing away and studying a medieval tapestry that hung on the wall. “Or until I marry.”
“I see.”
“I didn’t ask you to marry me just for money,” Emma burst out passionately, still unable to turn around and face his emerald gaze. “I think it’s what gave me the idea to ask you, but it’s not why I did it. It was an excuse, I suppose. I wanted you so badly, and I felt trapped. A man can pick and choose who he wants to marry and when, but women have to sit at home and wait for an offer. I was afraid you’d never get around to asking.”
Alex sighed. If she’d only waited three more days, this entire mess would have been averted.
“The money was just an excuse,” Emma continued forlornly. “I guess I thought that if I had an urgent enough reason, then I could defy tradition and ask you instead of waiting. I don’t think I would have had the courage to propose if I hadn’t needed to get the money for Ned.”
Alex moved to the bed and sat beside her, taking one of her hands and holding it between his own. “Can you understand why I reacted as I did?” he asked, stroking her palm with his thumb. “All my adult life I’ve been chased by greedy women eager for a title. When you said you needed money—I don’t know what happened. I just snapped.”
“I just don’t understand how you could have thought that of me.” Emma raised her stricken eyes to his. “Don’t you know me?”
Alex looked away, unable to think of any words that might express the remorse he was feeling.
The silence grew interminable, until finally Emma said. “You should have trusted me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I can understand your jumping to the wrong conclusion,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “But you didn’t even stop to think. You just treated me like a common harlot and threw me out of your house. You didn’t even ask for an explanation.”
Alex couldn’t meet her eyes.
Emma wiped away a tear that threatened to spill down her face. “I would have thought that you knew me well enough to realize that I’m not a ‘greedy little bitch. ’”
He flinched as she tossed back the cruel words he had blurted out in anger. “I know I was wrong, Emma. Believe me, it didn’t take me very long to realize that I had misunderstood you.”
“I don’t know. I feel very uncomfortable knowing that you don’t trust me.”
“But I do. I do now.”
Emma smiled sadly. “You say you do. I’m sure you believe you do. But I’m not certain that you wouldn’t jump to the very same conclusion all over again. You spent ten years hating women. It isn’t easy to undo a decade of such strong emotion.”
“I don’t hate women, Emma.”
“Hate, mistrust. It amounts to the same thing.”
“I admit that I did not hold most women in the highest regard,” Alex said, tightening his hold on her hand. “I didn’t know any outside of my family whom I could respect. But you changed that. You shattered every preconception I held about women.”
Emma wet her lips as she relived the ugly scene in Alex’s parlor. “Obviously I didn’t.”
“For God’s sake, Emma, give me a chance!” he suddenly burst out, jumping to his feet. “You’re right! I made an ass of myself yesterday because I didn’t trust my instincts. I knew you were everything I wanted in a woman, but I was afraid to
admit it. Are you satisfied?” He strode across the room, taking deep breaths of air. Hands on hips, he stared at the very same tapestry that had captured Emma’s gaze a few minutes earlier. He didn’t turn to look at her when he finally said, “But now you’re doing the exact same thing to me. You don’t trust me enough to believe that I learned something from yesterday’s debacle.”
“Oh, Alex,” Emma moaned, placing her face in her hands. “I’m so confused. I think I’ve been confused since the moment I met you.”
“You’ve been confused?” Alex said, turning around as his lips twisted into a wry smile. “You’ve turned my entire life upside down. Do you know how many damned balls I’ve been to in the last two months?”
At her blank stare he continued, “More than I’ve been to in the last ten years! I don’t like ton parties. I hate ton parties. But I went to all of them—gladly—just to be near you.”
Emma blinked up at him through watery eyes. “I wish I knew what to do,” she said sadly. “Could— could you just—” She bit her lip, fumbling for words. “Could you just hold me? Just for a little while?”
Alex’s head rose at her request, and his heart began to beat rapidly. He walked across the room, sat down next to her, and wrapped his arms around her, his lips settling on the tender skin just next to her ear.
Emma closed her eyes, lost in the comfort and solace she found in his arms. When she found her voice, it was very small and quite uneven. “I think that if you keep holding me, maybe I can forget how much I’m hurting.”
Alex tightened his hold. “I’m so sorry, Emma,” he murmured. “So very sorry.”
Emma nodded, finally allowing the tears she’d been holding back all evening to trickle down her cheeks. “I know. And I’m sorry that I worried you so much tonight. I’m not sorry I did what I did,” she added with a sniffle and a sheepish smile. “But I am sorry that I worried you.”
Alex crushed her to him. “Oh God, Emma,” he said hoarsely. “Please don’t ever put me through something like that again.”
“I won’t. I’ll try not to.”
Alex drew back so that he could see her face. “I’ve made you cry,” he whispered, touching her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
Within the warm haven of Alex’s arms, Emma let loose all the tears which had been brimming up within her for the past two days and which she had valiantly fought to conceal from the concerned eyes of her relatives. As each tear fell, it seemed to her that a weight had been lifted from her soul, and she slowly felt the tension leave her body. At some point her tears trickled to a halt, and Alex laid her sleepy body down upon his massive bed. With a contented smile on his face, he slipped off her shoes, pulled the covers up, tucked them under her chin, and kissed her goodnight.
Chapter 19
A few hours later, Emma’s eyelids fluttered open, and she groggily took in her surroundings. She took a deep breath and let out a catlike yawn, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A faint smell of musk hung in the air, and she sniffed a few times, unused to such a scent in her bedroom. Taking another breath of the heady aroma, she yawned again, squeezing her eyes shut as she twisted her body around, turning onto her side. With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes again. And then she opened them wider, finding herself mere inches away from Alex’s face.
That was when she realized that the heavy weight across her hips was Alex’s leg. She sucked in her breath, startled by the intimacy.
“Oh my,” she breathed, holding herself very still, lest she wake the man sleeping next to her. She hadn’t any experience with this sort of situation. If she moved, she’d probably wake him up. On the other hand, her heart was beating so rapidly she knew that there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep.
It seemed to her that she probably ought to scream. Or faint. That, she imagined, was what a well-brought-up lady was supposed to do in such a situation. But then again, a well-brought-up lady wasn’t supposed to be in such a situation. Anyway, she didn’t really see how screaming would solve anything. And swooning seemed a rather stupid endeavor; one couldn’t really do anything while unconscious, and once she awoke, she’d be in the same place in which she’d started. Besides, Emma thought wryly, she really wasn’t much good at fainting without a sufficient blow to the head.
There would be a scandal, she supposed, unless Alex and her family behaved with the utmost discretion. Actually, there was a very good chance that Uncle Henry and Aunt Caroline hadn’t yet noticed her absence. When they left for Lady Mottram’s ball, Emma had let them think that she was retiring early with a headache. They had been very worried about her because she had seemed so depressed and tired for the past couple of days. They told Emma to get some rest, and she was sure they wouldn’t bother her when they returned. Ned would know, of course. And Belle, too, who would almost certainly ferret out the information from her brother the minute she got back home.
She’d be all right as long as she made it home before sunrise, when the servants started going about their daily chores. Her cousins had probably left the front door open for her. She smiled wryly. Belle and Ned were probably waiting for her in the front parlor, taking turns keeping watch through the window so they could let her in. They wouldn’t want to miss whatever story Emma offered to explain her lengthy absence.
Emma twisted her head and squinted at the dock that sat on Alex’s nightstand. It was quarter to four in the morning. Henry, Caroline, and Belle had probably returned from Lady Mottram’s sometime in the last couple of hours. She still had plenty of time. It didn’t really matter if she left now or in a half an hour. Whatever damage she had incurred was already done.
Having duly justified her silence, Emma was content to lie in the big bed, studying Alex’s face. He looked very boyish while he slept. His dark lashes were sinfully long as they rested against his cheeks, and Emma found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she had lashes like that to frame her own eyes. His hair was rumpled by sleep, and his lips were slightly parted as he breathed steadily.
Alex had thrown a bare arm over the blankets, and Emma could see the very top of his chest. She had never before seen him without a shirt, and she flexed her hand, longing to place it on his chest just to see what it felt like. Her eyes followed his skin to where it disappeared under the covers. He had definitely taken his shirt off, but what about his breeches? Emma gasped. Dear Lord, he wasn’t naked?
The leg that lay across her hips suddenly felt very strange. Emma caught her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to figure out a way to wriggle out from under him without waking him up. Alex made a sleepy sound as he shifted his weight. He rolled toward her, and Emma found herself even more firmly pinned underneath his leg. There seemed to be only one way to determine the state of his undress. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her hand beneath the covers and slid it down until she reached the soft springy hair on his knee. Emma quickly pulled her hand away. He definitely wasn’t wearing breeches.
If he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he wasn’t wearing breeches, there was only one other place he could have remained clothed so as to protect her modesty. Emma swallowed. She certainly wasn’t going to slide her hand under the covers and touch him there. She wasn’t even entirely sure what to expect.
She tried a different tactic. Very slowly and very carefully, she lifted up the covers, taking great care not to disturb Alex. Once the blanket was higher than her eyes, she peered in, but she couldn’t make anything out amidst all the shadows. Summoning all her courage, she dipped her head beneath the cover, still holding it far enough up to let in the slight glimmer of moonlight that bathed the room. It was still too dark to see anything. Emma grimaced and resigned herself to defeat. If she moved her head any further under the covers, she might crash into something, and she certainly didn’t want that. She slowly unfolded herself, returning her head to its original position on the pillow beside Alex.
His eyes were open.
Emma caught her breath and looked closer. His e
yes were definitely open, and even in the darkness of the room, she could see humor lurking in those green depths.
“I did not remove my undergarments, if that’s what you were trying to discern,” he said, and Emma swore she could hear a smile in his voice. “I’m not a complete cad,” he continued.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“You fell asleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. You’re quite adorable when you’re sleeping.”
“So are you,” she could not help saying.
“Thank you,” he said, just as sincerely. “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.”
“You were warm enough?”
“Oh, yes,” Emma said mildly, marveling at the absurdity of her situation. Here she was, lying next to a man in bed, in his bed, at nearly four in the morning, and they were conversing as politely as if they were in a drawing room. She sighed, letting her gaze float across the ceiling. “We’ll have to be very careful when you take me home,” she finally said. “If we’re very quiet, we won’t wake anyone up, and we’ll be able to avoid a scandal.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said offhandedly. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Emma rolled onto her back. Alex made no attempt to move his leg, and it settled into the crook between her leg and hip. “It’s very cozy in here,” he remarked. “I’m not used to sharing this bed with anyone.”
“Oh, really, Alex,” Emma scoffed. “You’ve had scores of mistresses. It’s common knowledge.”
Alex grinned widely. “Jealous, are we? Now that’s a good sign.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“As it happens, I haven’t had scores of mistresses. Even I’m not man enough for that. I admit that I haven’t lived the life of a monk, but I haven’t kept a mistress for quite some time now.”
Emma turned her face to his, her eyes questioning.
“It’s been at least two months now, I imagine.”
That was just about as long as they had known each other. Emma was absurdly pleased.