by Laura Landon
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Glassborough led her across the foyer, then down the long hall and into the library.
“I think you’ll find books that contain the information you’re searching for on these shelves,” he said, pointing to the library’s west wall.
Emma forced herself to concentrate on his books and not on his hands that gestured so expressively between them.
“Please, sit down and I’ll hand you some books I think you’ll find most helpful.”’
Emma took a seat in one of the oversized upholstered chairs and placed the books he extended to her in her lap. Before long, she had more books in front of her than she’d ever be able to peruse in one sitting.
“Now,” he said, walking away from her. “If you don’t mind, I need to return to my ledgers. Call for Mrs. Jefferies if you require anything at all.”
His departure seemed abrupt, but if he felt any of the electricity that was now charging through her own veins, Emma could scarcely blame him.
“Thank you, Lord Glassborough. You’ve been most helpful.”
“You are welcome,” he answered as he moved to the door. But when he reached it, he paused and half-turned toward her. He drew a breath, as if he were about to speak, then thought better of it. Instead, he gave her a small smile before stepping into the hall.
Emma watched him retreat. How comforted she felt, even with the riot of emotions that churned within her. The change in plans he had proposed gave her hope for the first time. She might actually be able to arrive safely in the New World.
Completely anonymously.
Chapter 6
Emma woke early the next morning. Refusing to spend another day resting in bed, she dressed, then went down for breakfast. She hoped that when she entered the breakfast room she would see Lord Glassborough and would have an opportunity to thank him for all he’d done for her. But he wasn’t there. She asked after him, but was told he’d already eaten and left for the day.
When she finished eating, she went to the library to search for more books on America, then took the books to the morning room to read.
She was glad to find the draperies still open and the dust covers off the furnishings. The sun poured in through the windows and wrapped the room in sunny warmth. She had swiftly come to love this room. There wasn’t a more beautiful room in Glassborough Manor.
Emma wouldn’t have been surprised if Lord Glassborough had ordered the dust covers put back on the furniture to hide the shredded cushions, and the draperies drawn to keep the room in darkness. But instead, everything was perfectly in place. Where possible, the cushions had been turned upside down to hide the evidence of his temper, and to the unknowing eye, no one would ever imagine the master of Glassborough Manor had taken his anger out on the cushions in this room. The cushions would still need to be repaired, but that would come in due time. For now, the room seemed aglow with its reclaimed state.
It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Lord Glassborough returned to the morning room.
“Lady Emma,” he said in greeting.
“Lord Glassborough. Have you finished with your ledgers?”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. That small movement transformed his features and caused a shifting in her breast. When he smiled, he was an incredibly handsome man. His features softened and he seemed caring. Protective.
Emma studied her host’s features. There was a confident set to his shoulders, and his profile was strong and bold. The rugged angle of his rigid jaw exuded power while his firm features indicated an air of command. One would think he possessed a calm confidence, yet the inky darkness of his eyes allowed Emma to see something he tried to hide. A hurt that haunted him day and night.
His deep, rich voice pulled Emma back from her musing, “The first thing I learned when I took over the estate…,” he said as an answer to her comment, “…was that one is never finished with the ledgers.”
He walked into the room and stopped at the sideboard where he lifted a crystal decanter and poured some liquor into a glass. “Would you care for anything? A glass of wine, perhaps?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
He poured her a glass of deep red wine and handed it to her.
“Thank you.”
He unbuttoned his coat and sat in a maroon velvet chair next to hers. He stretched his legs out in front of him and took a sip of his liquor. Emma was glad he felt able to relax when he was around her.
“You seem to be improving, my lady.”
“I am. It won’t be long and I’ll be well enough to be on my way.”
“I know you are anxious for that day, but I doubt you’ll be well enough to travel for another week or two.”
Emma took a sip of her wine, then smiled. “I thought you would be eager to see me go,” she said.
“Quite the contrary, my lady. I’ve grown accustomed to having you here. And, I enjoy our conversations.”
Emma lowered her eyes to the wine glass in her hands. “I’m glad to hear that, my lord. I so hoped I wasn’t too much of an imposition.”
“You aren’t. And since you’ll be here a while longer, why don’t you call me Jonah. That is my given name.”
“Jonah,” she repeated. “The name fits you.”
He smiled again.
“Then, please. Call me Emma. My given name is Emmaline, but my father always called me Emma.”
He nodded, then took another swallow of the liquor in his glass.
“Emma, then.” He cleared his throat. “Would you care to take a walk in the garden? If you think you’re up to it.”
“By all means.”
“We won’t stay out long, just long enough to walk around the perimeter.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“I’ll ask Carter to get your wrap,” he said as he rose.
Nothing sounded more relaxing than taking a walk in the open air. It had been so long since she’d been out of doors, and the weather had turned so much nicer than it had been when she had her accident.
Spring was finally here after all, and some of the trees were starting to bud and the shrubbery was beginning to green. Even though dusk was approaching and she would not be able to see all the wonders of nature, she’d be able to imagine what the trees and flowers would look like in mid-summer.
Lord Glassborough returned with her wrap and helped settle it on her shoulders. Together, they walked out the paned double doors and across the terrace.
They descended the three steps to the garden, then walked down the path to their right.
“Once the trees leaf out and the flowers bloom, the east half of the garden is a masterpiece of vibrant colors that amaze the eyes. And the west?” With a small laugh Jonah swung his hand across the tilled soil of an untended group of plots. “Well, as you can see, it’s a dismal work in progress.” His self-conscious laugh held all the impatience she felt in him at having the project not yet completed.
“I can imagine what it will look like, though,” Emma said, taking in the scenery around her. “Do you have a hand in caring for the garden?”
“Yes. I’ve always enjoyed planting the seeds and watching them grow.”
“I admire you, Lord Glassborough.”
“Jonah,” he corrected.
“Jonah,” she said.”
“Why do you admire me, my lady?”
“Emma,” she said with a laugh as she lifted her gaze to look at him.
He smiled, then looped her arm through his. “Why is it that you admire me, Emma?”
“Because not every man sees the beauty in nature. Because few men allow themselves to admire the beauty around them.”
“That is probably true, Emma, but…” He paused for several moments. “…I will never forget the first sight I saw when I stepped off the ship after the war. I can’t explain how I felt when I took my first step back on English soil. I wanted to weep. I had survived when so many others hadn’t.”
He took several more steps before
he spoke again. “There was a young lass who met our ship. Her hands were full of flowers. She presented one to each of us. She handed me a yellow daisy. It was beginning to wilt and had several petals missing, but it was the most beautiful flower I’d ever seen. I can tell you with all honesty that it was the most precious gift I’d ever received.”
He stopped walking and stared into the distance as though he were reliving that day. His hand clenched as if he still held that flower.
“After spending two years in a country where there’d been nothing other than mud and blood and the cries and screams of the wounded and dying, that daisy was the most hopeful thing I’d seen in months. That is why,” he said looking around his garden, “much of my garden contains beds of daisies of every variety I can find.”
“A veritable garden of hope,” Emma sighed. “You know, old Henry VIII would have been thrilled to see your park filled with daisies.”
“Gads,” Jonah grinned down on her and winked. “He would probably have eaten them all!”
Emma looked at him quizzically. She’d recalled that the old king had a fondness for daisies, but was Jonah having her on?
“For stomach ache, you know. They’re medicinal.” He laughed. “Or at least Henry thought so.”
Emma lifted a hand to cover her sudden laughter. She reached the other hand out to swat his arm, and she took a step closer to improve her aim.
He stopped. Then turned her to face him.
Emma lifted her head and her gaze locked with his. There was something immensely compelling in the look he gave her. Something that told her that his emotions were battling with his sense of propriety. Then, his gaze lowered to her lips.
He was going to kiss her. Emma knew he was. He was silently waiting for her to refuse his advances, or give him her permission. Waiting for her indication that she didn’t object. Or that she did.
She should stop him. She only needed to turn her head and step away from him. But she didn’t. It was as if something inside her refused to let this moment pass without experiencing what his kisses would do to her.
Emma focused her gaze on his mouth. His lips were full and kissable. She ran her tongue over her lips, then skimmed her hands upward over his chest. She didn’t stop until her fingers were nearly to his shoulders.
With their eyes locked and their lips parted, he brought his mouth down to gently cover hers.
There was nothing demanding in his kiss, only a tender entreaty that begged permission to continue.
Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth more firmly to his.
He answered her plea with another kiss.
The world spun in circles as the crystal moment lengthened. Their passion grew with unmistakable ardor before he wrapped his arms around her and held her closer still.
Emma heard a forlorn moan of distress. It was her own throaty affirmation of just how far his kisses had reached deep inside her breast to pull at her heart.
This shouldn’t be happening. His kisses ought not to affect her like this. They weren’t supposed to be so powerful that she would mourn the loss of them if he never kissed her again.
But they were.
In time, he broke off their kiss but didn’t release her. Instead, he tucked her head beneath his chin and held her close. Emma was thankful. She wasn’t sure her legs would support her if he released her, weak as they had become from his kisses.
“I should apologize, but saying I’m sorry would be a lie,” he said without releasing her. “I’m not sorry. Not in the least.”
“I’m glad you kissed me,” Emma admitted. “Although, we must not give way to this…affection. You know that.”
“I know,” he said, then dropped his arms from around her. “I’ll not forget what you said the other day.”
“What was that?”
“You said that none of the men who courted you had loved you. What they loved was the money that would come with you. So I’ll not forget that I am no different than any of those men. I need money as much as any of them did. Perhaps more. But I promised you then that I will not take advantage of you. I will not deceive you into thinking I love you just to gain your trust.”
Emma heard disappointment in his voice, even as she felt it pinching her own heart. She turned to the side, hoping he wouldn’t see the emotions with which she wrestled.
Jonah walked to the edge of the sidewalk and looked out over the garden. Instead of coming back to stand beside her, he walked a few steps down the path and stared out into the garden. “I think there could be something between us. I think that in time, we might come to care for each other. But neither of us can allow that to happen.”
He paused for several moments. “I do not have a pound to my name, Emma, and if…” he paused. “…if something more developed between us, you would never know if I really cared for you, or if my words were lies like all the lies you heard before.”
She knew he was right. She’d learned the lesson that she couldn’t believe any suitor. And she’d learned it several times over.
“Thank you for understanding,” she said quietly. “Now,” she continued as she struggled to quiet her troubled heart, “I’m a little weary. I believe I shall retire.”
“I’ll see you in,” he said.
Emma shook her head. “No need. I’ll be fine by myself.”
Emma turned away from him and walked back to the house. There was a very heavy weight inside her breast and a painful lump in her stomach, as if she’d just lost someone very special.
But she’d had no choice. She couldn’t let any man in. At least not yet. Especially not someone who needed money as desperately as Lord Glassborough did.
Chapter 7
Every day seemed endless. Jonah knew that was because of the effort it took to avoid running into Emma. And yet…she consumed every second of his thoughts.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. About what she was doing. Whether or not she thought about him even once a day. Or more. But most of all, he wondered if she relived the kiss they’d shared. And if it tortured her as much as it did him.
After Constance had chosen death rather than spend her life as his wife, Jonah was certain he would never find a woman who could overlook the rumors that surrounded him. Or the scar that marred his face. Or the recluse he’d become. Or any of a hundred other things about him that made him someone no female would want as her husband. And yet the kiss he and Emma had shared amid the spring’s budding garden told him something altogether different. The kiss they’d shared woke emotions he thought were long dead.
But she had chosen escape, and he would honor that.
Jonah rose from his desk and walked out the paned double doors that led to the terrace. He braced his hands on the balustrade and looked out onto the garden. The weather had changed since Emma had arrived. It was warmer now. The sun shone with regularity and the crocuses and daffodils were peeking through the soil. Leaves were turning the branches green and buds were popping open.
Jonah had always observed the awakening of the flowers and the blossoming of everything that had lain dormant throughout the winter merely as a botanical event. But since Emma had come into his life, he felt that every part of him was awakening. That something inside him had come to life.
He pounded his fist against the railing in frustration. Such feelings were futile. Nothing could come of the emotions that blossomed inside of him. No matter how much he might care for her, he had nothing to recommend himself to Emma. He had nothing to offer her. Nothing at all. Not even a decent roof over her head.
Jonah pushed himself away from the railing and walked from the terrace to follow one of the paths in the garden. He needed to think. He needed to plan. He needed to do what was best for Emma. And only one thing was best for her. That was for her to get as far away from England as possible and make a new life for herself in Virginia.
He’d only taken a few steps when he saw her. She was sitting on a wrought-iron bench with a book in her hands.
Her eyes weren’t focused on the words in the book, but staring into space as if she were deep in thought.
Jonah knew he should make his presence known, but he’d rather use the little time he had until she saw him to study her. He wanted to look at her features and put them to memory so that when she was no longer with him, he could still recall every detail of her. The rich color of her hair and the slight tilt of her nose. The magnificent blue of her eyes and the proud lift of her shoulders. But most of all, her inner strength and the determination to do what she knew she had to do. And do it alone. He’d never met anyone like her.
Jonah thought it was best to turn around and leave before she realized he was there. He turned, but only managed to take one step back toward the house before her voice stopped him.
“My lord?”
Jonah turned. “I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You didn’t. I was just enjoying this perfect day. Please, join me.”
Jonah made his way to the bench where she sat and took his place beside her. “It is quite beautiful, isn’t it? The day, I mean.”
She smiled and Jonah’s heart flipped in his chest.
“Yes.”
Jonah looked at the flowers just starting to bloom. “When I was young, I used to come here with my grandmother and she would sometimes read to me, or we would just talk. I thought she was the wisest woman in all the world.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Everything. She would tell me about her mother and father and who they were. And she would tell me about my grandfather’s family. She told me it was important to know where I came from.”
“That is very important,” she said. “I wish my father would have told me about my grandparents. I would have liked to know who they were and how they lived.”
“Yes, I’m glad she told me about her parents. And my grandfather’s. If she hadn’t, I would have only known my father and brother, and they weren’t examples I could be proud of.”
She turned her head and stared at him.