“Oh.” Now Emma was at a loss. The knowledge that he had asked two ladies before her to marry him did not sit well with her. Had his heart been captured by some young miss? Was that why he offered for her, because he no longer cared about a love match? “I am sorry if such refusals caused your heart pain.”
“My heart? Why would an offer of marriage affect that particular organ? No, I believe it only confirmed my suspicions that I have nothing to offer a member of the fairer sex.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it hurt nothing but your pride. But I wonder why— Oh, but you are trying to trap me into asking you impertinent questions and thus showing my lamentable country manners.” Emma smiled at him, only half joking at her unconventional upbringing, for she did feel quite out of her element in such illustrious company.
“Your manners are such that I like. I tell you the truth, I far prefer your company to any young lady I met in London.” He spoke with a simple earnestness that gave added meaning to the compliment.
“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling the weight of his praise.
“I did offer my hand to two ladies while in London. Kate was insistent that I find a wife or I would not have asserted myself. Both ladies were in circumstances in which I believed an offer of marriage would have been appreciated. They did, in truth, quickly enter into the marital state. Just not to me.”
“Their loss, I am sure.”
“They did not seem to agree with the sentiment.”
“So you offered your hand for marriages of convenience?”
“Yes, though it was apparently not so convenient that either would accept it. And now I have once again…” He paused and she was afraid he would bring up the fact that she had refused him too, but he changed course. “So you see it is a hopeless case.”
Emma smiled, for she assumed his words were in jest, but he remained somber, and she realized he was being entirely sincere with his assessment of his lack of social graces. “So you plan to die a bachelor?”
“It does seem likely.”
“Well, that is the saddest thing I have ever heard. I wish there was something I could do to provide assistance.”
“You could accept my offer.” He did not pull his punch this time.
It was Emma’s turn to look away. She gazed through the frosted pane at stormy seas, attempting to calm her flustered mind enough to form a cogent response. “I would not do you the injustice of accepting an offer made only out of obligation. You deserve more than that. You deserve to find someone you can truly cherish.”
“But you do not?”
She was indeed advocating a love match for Dare while accepting an arranged marriage with a stranger for herself. Her words and actions were not in concert and she felt an uncomfortable dissonance between the two.
“Perhaps I can be of service to you in some other way,” she continued quickly, not wanting to discuss the obvious contradiction. “I should not like to see you become discouraged and remain forever a bachelor.”
“I am resigned to my fate.” Dare wiped the condensation from the windowpane to see more clearly to the rolling seas below. Perhaps he was already planning his escape.
“I fear no challenge. Even a lump of coal can become a diamond under the right circumstances.”
“But a sow’s ear will never become a silk purse,” argued Dare.
“Ah, you have thrown down the gauntlet and I must accept the challenge! Now if I am to help you, you must explain the approach you took in making these previous offers, so we can discover the difficulty. If I can be so bold.”
Dare turned back to her, tilting his head slightly. “I wish you would be. For it is considerably easier when you take control of the conversation rather than rely on me to devise my own topics of discussion. If you could form your questions such that I could answer only in yes or no, that would be appreciated.”
Emma searched his expression, wondering if he was being earnest. She detected a slight softness in his eyes and a slight quirk to his lips. It was not quite a smile, but it revealed he was in jest. The man had made a joke!
She laughed out loud, placing her hand on the sleeve of his jacket in her mirth. His lips twitched, and he rested his hand on top of hers for a moment before they both jerked their hands away.
“Well then.” Emma cleared her throat. They had certainly entered into an interesting topic of conversation. It was not quite proper, but considering everything they had shared, the usual social boundaries on conversation seemed irrelevant.
“When you made your proposals, did you use flattery or make an argument for why the lady would be a suitable countess for you?”
Dare shrugged. “I’m sure either one would have performed the office adequately.”
“Did you express any particular affection for either one?”
“I could not express an emotion I did not feel.”
Emma was secretly reassured that Dare’s heart remained untouched. “I see. I do believe ladies do like to feel that their groom holds for them some sort of affection. Even a little bit.”
“I am not one to flatter and flirt.”
“I think that is a positive thing. I would rather one word of true praise than a thousand of false flattery.”
Dare’s eyes warmed as he looked at her. “Very wise.”
“Thank you.” Emma’s heart beat a bit faster at his compliment. “Did the ladies in question go on to marriages of convenience or love matches?”
“I would not be the best to judge such things, but I heard talk that there was true affection between the pairs.”
“Then there you have it. In order to find a marriage partner, you must learn to woo the lady of your interest.”
Dare paled and leaned away from her. “I could not begin to conduct such an endeavor.”
“All activities can be intimidating when first tried, but with practice…” Emma paused, for Dare had taken on a sickly hue. “Perhaps start small by giving banal compliments or small gifts.”
“Gifts?” asked Dare, and Emma suspected he was interested in anything that did not require conversation with the female in question.
“Yes, like flowers. Of course, one must be careful, for a single man cannot give an unmarried lady a gift, but one can bring a bouquet to the mother of the girl of your fancy. She will understand the token is for her.”
“Flowers,” said Dare carefully. “Sounds tedious.”
Emma smiled again, humor bubbling up at his morose assessment of wooing. “Perhaps it is. I suppose it is only worth it if the lady is worth the effort. I suppose that is the whole point. The object should not be the goal, but the fact that it cost the gentleman time and effort, which indicates affection.”
“Affection. Is that also a requirement?” Dare stared at her with his dark eyes, full of an emotion that was hard to name. Longing perhaps. Sorrow. This time, he was not in jest.
“I should hope that all marriages should have at least a little love between them. It can be a difficult world and it helps to have a friend by your side.”
“And you?” His eyes burned into hers and she once again realized her words were contrary to her intention to marry a stranger.
Emma took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, you are right. I suppose my decision to wed a man unknown to me was primarily based on my desire to escape my situation at home. But I hope that when we meet, a connection can be found. Perhaps, even in this strange beginning, a love match can be formed.”
Dare scowled at this. “And if he is not the man you deserve?”
“Then I return home. I have ensured I have enough funds.” Eustace did not know, but Emma had been saving the little pin money he gave her for years. “Do not fret over me. I am actually excited to take this chance. I do wish to travel the world.”
Dare pressed his lips together, unconvinced.
“No, truly. Men
have advantages you cannot comprehend. You get to travel, see new places, go where you want to go, do as you wish. I would like to take to the seas, learn to navigate a ship and take sail.” She paused at the incredulous rise of his eyebrows. “I’m sure that seems rather silly to you.”
“Not at all. Those are all things I like too.”
Emma opened her mouth to say they were quite a match, but thought better of it. She coughed to hide the awkward pause.
“Oh, Lord Darington, there you are. Please forgive the interruption.” The housekeeper entered the room. “We have supper ready and are waiting on your pleasure to come to table. Lord Wynbrook and Lady Kate show no signs of exiting the drawing room.”
“Actually, Mrs. Brooke, I prefer to take my meal in my room,” said Darington, rising stiffly from the window seat.
“I shall as well,” murmured Emma, not wanting to be the only person at the table. She had thought they had established a rapport, but now he apparently did not wish to extend his time with her.
He gave her a nod. “I hope to see you later tonight,” he said after the housekeeper had gone.
He did not wish to eat with her but wanted to see her later? What was this man about?
Twenty-four
Emma ate her supper off a tray in her room by herself. She was not sure what was happening between her and Dare, if anything. Were they…flirting? No, he was not the sort. But perhaps, if she was honest, she was. But what did he mean by seeing her later tonight?
She opened the door to her room and tiptoed out into the darkened, empty hall. She felt like a guilty child sneaking out of her room to do mischief. But what mischief did she want to do with Lord Darington?
Unfortunately for her peace of mind, the question brought the image of Dare in his glorious state of undress. He had chiseled features, with the tanned face of a man who had spent much of his life out of doors. He was not handsome in the same way as Lord Wynbrook, but his strong features and utter sincerity drew her to him with a force stronger than anything she had ever experienced.
She reached the landing and wondered where she should go. Should she even be doing this? It was growing dark, and there was no chaperone. Still, she continued to tread softly toward the drawing room. Maybe she could ask to check his stitches again, just once more…
“Miss St. James.”
Emma turned to find Dare walking slowly down the stairs. Her heart tripped over itself at the sight of him and she had to remind herself that he could not possibly have known what she was thinking. “I…er… Lord Darington.”
“I have taken the liberty of collecting your wrap.” He held out her scarlet, fur-lined pelisse.
“Are we going somewhere?” she asked, putting on her coat.
“Yes. As you requested.” He pulled on his own greatcoat. “This way, please.”
She followed his direction toward the front door, utterly baffled. When had she requested to leave the house? “I fear you have me at a disadvantage,” she said as he opened the door. “Where are we going?”
“This way,” said Dare and walked away from the house toward the edge of the cliff. It was a barren landscape, dotted with occasional scraggly trees, gnarled from the almost constant wind.
He produced a walking stick and leaned heavily on it. Though he walked relatively slowly due to his injury, his long legs kept him at a good pace. Unlike most men, he did not offer his arm or wait to see if she followed. Still, she suspected he was not being rude, just oblivious, and took pity on him, following him along a narrow dirt path.
“Where are we going?” asked Emma.
Dare turned to look back at her, his head tilted ever so slightly as if confused by the question. “You said you wanted to learn to use the sextant.”
“A sextant?”
“To navigate.”
“Yes, I suppose I did say that.” Emma wrapped her red pelisse tighter around her against the bitter wind.
“You need to see the horizon.”
“Oh. I did not know that.” Emma stepped closer and reached out a hand. He took the strong hint and offered his arm. They continued to walk toward the cliff, and Emma instinctively drew close. Most likely for warmth. Or maybe something else. Either way, Dare made no protest and they walked forward toward the sound of the crashing waves.
Dare stopped them a few feet from the edge of the cliff, and Emma marveled at the view. In the pale moonlight, the waves crashed foamy and white below. The dark, churning sea stretched out to a distant line, where it met with the sky and a bounty of twinkling, silver stars.
Dare removed a metal object from his greatcoat pocket. The instrument was made mostly of brass and had a rounded ruler on the bottom, a movable arm, two small mirrors, and a small telescope. Emma’s curiosity got the best of her and she leaned closer to see how he would use it.
“You take a sight by measuring the angle between the horizon and the sun or a star.” Dare held the telescope to his eye and made some adjustments.
“Which star? There must be millions.”
“The North Star. There.” Dare pointed, but there were so many points of light in the night sky, she could not tell one from the other.
“Where?”
Dare leaned closer until his face was next to hers. Emma’s heart began to stutter. He was so close she could smell his own unique scent, something of a mix between leather, sailcloth, and freedom. She breathed deeply.
He pointed at a bright pinprick of light. “You see it?”
She nodded, paying more attention to him than whatever was happening in the night sky.
“Good, now take a sight. First, you focus on the object and turn this knob to divide the image into two. Next, move the arm of the sextant so the second image rests on the horizon.” He made small adjustments, talking knowledgably about angles and arcs and the best way to fine-tune the instrument.
Emma, however, was much too distracted to pay attention to her sextant lesson. Her heart fluttered again such that she pressed her hand to her chest to try to stop it. She had never felt this way before and was not sure what to name the strange sensation. The Earl of Darington made her feel slightly ill, but there was no one she would rather be near.
“Here, now you try.” Dare shifted back and handed her the instrument. It was heavier than she had expected from the easy way he held it. She hoped he would explain it again, since she had not been attending to anything he said. Something about using the contraption to navigate across vast oceans with nothing more than the stars as a guide?
“I…er…” said Emma, taking the brass instrument awkwardly. It had a lot of moving parts and looked complicated.
“Here, look through here and find the horizon,” said Dare patiently, standing so close it made her catch her breath. “Do you have it lined up with the horizon?” he asked, his breath on her cheek.
Forcing herself to attend to her lesson, she looked through the glass and saw two images. He took her hand and moved it to the arm, helping her make the adjustment. Her heart pounded at his nearness. His hands were rough, but his touch was gentle. At his urging she adjusted the arm of the sextant until the image of the North Star rested on the horizon.
“I think I have it,” she said excitedly.
“Very good,” he praised, his words warm in her ear.
She turned and realized they were close, very close. She stared at his lips and felt a strange draw. He must have felt it too, for he leaned in slowly before he caught himself and cleared his throat, pulling back.
She swallowed, glad he was in control of himself, for she could not be trusted. Although…perhaps he could have been a little less than strictly honorable. All things in moderation.
He cleared his throat again and took the sextant from her hand. He focused on the object, not making eye contact. “Then you take the reading here and note the time very precisely.” He pulled out his watc
h and began to describe some complicated calculations that she could not begin to follow. Instead, she was more interested in the way he looked in profile in the moonlight. His features were strong with high cheekbones and a long, straight nose. In the cold, silver light, she saw true nobility.
“Do you understand?” he asked, finally giving her a furtive glance.
“Not in the least,” she confessed.
He looked at the sextant and watch in his hands. “Takes a bit to get accustomed to it. Sometimes takes the young gentlemen a whole cruise before they can come up to scratch.”
“Young gentlemen?”
“The ship’s boys. Start around twelve. Sometimes they’re with us; sometimes they just put their names on the roster to count as experience so they can enter service at a higher grade.”
“That does not sound fair.”
Dare shrugged. “Common enough.”
“Did you do that?”
Dare shook his head. “First sailed at twelve, joined right after I escaped Fleet. Not much else I could do. First tour saw action at the Nile with Nelson.”
“You were with Nelson at such a young age? Why, you are quite the hero.”
“I ran powder. Tried not to get shot.”
“An admirable goal. I fully support it!”
Dare turned back to her with warm eyes. “Considering my recent experience, I quite agree.” His dark features gleamed a roguish enchantment in the moonlight.
A shiver ran down her spine.
Dare shrugged out of his greatcoat and, ignoring her murmurs of protest, put it around her shoulders. The heavy wool coat was warm from his own heat and stoked a fire within her. His scent lingered and she breathed deeply, feeling a little giddy at being draped in his coat as if wrapped in his arms.
“You should keep your coat. It is cold and you are still recovering,” Emma protested.
Dare gave her another of his shrugs and stepped close to her, reaching into the pocket of his coat that was wrapped around her. “This is for you.” He held out his hand, revealing a small, white shell.
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