by Noelle Adams
Vince leaned down to kiss her. “So have I. Because I have you.”
They kissed and hugged and generally made fools of themselves for a few more minutes. But there was actually an estate sale happening in this house today. Vince had evidently arranged this little surprise, but they couldn’t spend all morning up in this room.
So Liz and Vince collected her chest and her wedding dress and started downstairs.
Liz was still wearing the ring, and Vince was holding her hand.
She decided they could forego the rest of the sale.
There wasn’t anything left she could possibly want.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The next Pemberley House book is If I Loved You Less, and it’s inspired by Emma. You can find an excerpt on the following pages.
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Excerpt from If I Loved You Less
SHE SLOWED HER PACE as she followed the curve of the path and finally saw Ward blowing leaves out of one of the gardens. There were still some autumn blooms. Ward kept very good care of the property. He hired people to do the major jobs, but he handled a lot of the everyday upkeep himself.
She’d always wondered why he didn’t leave Pemberley House after the conversion. It must be hard to have owned the place and then be forced to do the manual labor.
She’d never asked him, however, and the truth was Ward never seemed to mind.
He was laid-back about a lot of things. He very rarely got urgent or upset.
She waved at him across the garden, and he turned off the blower. “What happened to your shadow?”
Em frowned as she walked over to where he stood. “Her name is Riot.”
“I know what her name is.” Ward was several inches taller than Em’s five nine, and he had a big frame and the easy gait of a man who was used to his body doing what he wanted it to do. He had thick brown hair with a lot of wave to it, intelligent blue eyes, and a slight cleft in his strong chin.
Em thought he was incredibly handsome, and she didn’t know why he hadn’t remarried after his ex-wife had divorced him six years ago.
“Why are you always so snide about her?” Em asked, genuinely wanting an answer.
“Snide?”
“Yes. Snide. I’m trying to help her. I think I’ve been a good influence on her.”
“She doesn’t need a good influence. She needs hard work and discipline.”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? I’m trying to give her something worthwhile to focus on instead of flitting around wasting time and money.”
“And you think painting a bunch of half-ass pictures is the way to go?”
Em gasped and stiffened her shoulders. “Her paintings are not half-ass! They’re really good.”
“They’re okay. They’re not good enough for her to make a living from. And that’s what she needs. She needs a real job. She needs to grow up.” Despite his words, his tone wasn’t disapproving. It was light and casual, as if he didn’t care very much about the topic.
Em did care. She was frowning now. “A job isn’t enough. She had a job before, and look what happened.”
Riot had been working for the Darcy antique store when she’d gotten into trouble. She’d started buying antiques on their credit card without their permission. Because the Darcys were kindhearted people, they hadn’t pressed charges, but Riot had to work for eight months to pay back what she’d spent of their money. It wasn’t common knowledge since all parties had been discreet, but Ward knew.
He knew everything that happened in and around Pemberley House.
“I thought you said she’s grown up since then,” he said, shifting the blower from one hand to the other.
“She has.”
“So let her get a real job and prove it.”
“She can get a real job. Nothing is stopping her. But I hope she can find a good one where she can really feel like a productive member of society. She was talking about working for an event planner. Doing parties.” Em shuddered at the thought.
“What’s wrong with that? She’d probably be good at that.”
“Parties? Please, Ward. She can do better than that.”
“There’s nothing unworthy about that kind of work. Why would you think there is?” His forehead was wrinkled in that way it always did when he frowned. He was peering at her with blue eyes that seemed to see everything.
“I’m not saying it’s unworthy. It’s just... frivolous. She’s already frivolous enough. She needs good, substantial work to do.”
“Did she seem to want that job?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters because if she had a job she might like and you talked her out of taking it, then you’re not doing the girl any favors.” He was frowning deeply now, in that way he did when he disapproved of her.
He disapproved of her a lot. As far as Em knew, he was the only person in the world who did.
It rattled her now even more than it normally did. “I didn’t do anything. Riot will make up her own mind about her future. I’m just trying to help. What’s wrong with that?”
“If you actually help, that’s one thing. If you’re trying to fill a hole in your life by interfering in Riot’s, then that’s something else.”
“What hole?”
“The hole left when your best friends got engaged.” His tone had changed. His features softened slightly. “I know it’s got to be hard.”
“They’re not all engaged. Anne’s not. Just Jane and Liz. And it’s not hard. I’m happy for them.”
“Sure you are. But maybe you also feel like they’re leaving you behind.”
For some reason—for no good reason—Em had to swallow over a catch in her throat. Because Ward had hit home with his last words.
Em was happy for Liz and Jane to have found men they loved. She was happy they were going to spend the rest of their lives with those men. She was truly, deeply happy for them.
But the thought of them getting married also left her feeling... lonely.
Like they were moving on in a way she never would.
Never could.
She was going to be here at Pemberley House—taking care of her father and trying to help whomever she could—for the foreseeable future.
Forever.
Life was never going to offer her anything else.
“Em, it’s okay to feel that way. It’s normal.” Ward reached out to touch her shoulder in a comforting gesture.
In a way she couldn’t explain, his touch left her feeling more vulnerable than ever. She jerked away from his hand. “I don’t feel that way.”
He dropped his hand. “Why do you try to lie to me? I’ve known you since you were in diapers.”
She scowled since she hated being reminded of that fact. “Your being thirteen years more ancient than me doesn’t mean you can read my mind. There are things about me that you’ll never know.”
He stared at her, and there was something full and deep and slightly conflicted in the gaze.
Something that left her breathless.
“What don’t I know?” he asked in a low, rough voice.
YOU CAN FIND OUT MORE about If I Loved You Less here.
About Noelle Adams
NOELLE HANDWROTE HER first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she writes full time, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.
She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus
on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out her website: noelle-adams.com.