by Gayle Callen
“Aye, your sister has friends everywhere, does she not?”
Emmeline smiled. “Sometimes it seems that way.”
“But not you.”
Her amusement died as she glanced at him sharply, but he was not mocking her, just studying her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. “I have friends.”
“Yes, but well chosen and small in number, I think. No, do not ruffle your feathers, young swan. Sometimes I think we have much in common.”
“Young swan?” was all she could manage, as she tried to imagine having anything in common with such a scandalous man.
“The beginnings of a poem, I think,” he said.
He suddenly grinned at her in that carefree manner so much a part of him. It was as if another man had appeared for a moment, then was gone. She scoffed at herself for such fanciful notions.
“Oh, not another poem, Sir Alexander.”
“I told you that words always toss about in my mind.” He leaned over and suddenly chucked her under the chin. “Do call me Alex.”
With a tap of his heels, he set his horse trotting away from her.
The reaction of the other guests to his arrival was not what she would have expected. As usual there were young girls who fanned themselves a bit too much when he bent over their hands, but there were also barely tolerant stares. As she rode closer, Emmeline even heard Lady Morley thanking him for inviting the Prescott sisters. It was then that she realized Alex himself had invited them, without informing their hostess.
She wished she could disappear, but suddenly a man rode up beside her, and slowed his horse’s pace to match hers.
“Lady Emmeline,” he said respectfully, in a deep voice that was almost a growl.
She smiled, knowing he seemed familiar. “Sir, have we been introduced?”
“I am Sir Edmund Blackwell, a friend of Alex’s.” He returned her smile, and suddenly the sheer size and breadth of him seemed less menacing. He was not the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but there was a friendliness in his face that put her at ease.
“Ah yes,” she replied, “I think I saw you with him at a party a fortnight or so ago.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Come, allow me to escort you to the gathering. And perhaps you could introduce me to your sister.”
Riding up with Sir Edmund, she politely smiled at all in attendance, then dismounted to stand beside her sister. As grooms led the horses away to pasture, Alex’s friend remained at her side, obviously waiting.
Emmeline touched Blythe’s arm. “Blythe, allow me to present a friend of Sir Alexander. Sir Edmund Blackwell, this is my sister, Lady Blythe.”
Sir Edmund’s courtly bow rivaled that of his friend. Perhaps Alex would be foiled by yet another man dancing attendance on Blythe. When Emmeline glanced at Alex, his eyes were narrowed as he studied his friend.
Little benches and stools were scattered about the lawn for the ladies’ ease of sitting with their wide gowns. The men either stood or sprawled on blankets. The first course of their meal, an assortment of fine white breads, was served on little plates, and wine liberally refilled in every goblet. Emmeline sat on a bench beside her sister, who seemed wide-eyed with excitement as she ate.
Blythe delicately nibbled a pastry and leaned nearer to Emmeline. “What do you think of Alex’s friend?”
“Dearest, we’ve only just met.”
“Sir Edmund is very different to look at, is he not? Rather like an old-fashioned knight in my favorite stories. Where do you think he’s from?”
Emmeline could only shrug, and allow her gaze to linger on Alex and his friend, who conversed in low tones a little apart from everyone else, polite smiles on their faces.
Alex’s jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. “You know you were not invited here, Edmund.”
Edmund laughed softly. “Neither were the lovely Prescott sisters, but that didn’t stop you from bringing them. I’m sure Lady Morley thinks I’m just the next assault in your rudeness campaign.”
“Why did you come? I have not seen you much these last days, and when I have, you’ve seemed preoccupied.”
“Then I guess you have not noticed Elizabeth,” Edmund replied, and his voice lost some of its gaiety.
Alex glanced at the circle of young ladies and finally saw Lady Elizabeth Langston. She looked their way briefly, and pointedly turned her back.
“Are you in danger of losing this wager?” he asked, allowing only a hint of triumph in his voice.
“Not at all,” Edmund said.
Alex could tell he had to force a smile.
“Besides accompanying Elizabeth, I could not resist checking on your progress. I see you’ve not managed to shake the spinster sister.”
“Do not call her that,” Alex said without thinking.
“Call her what?” Edmund asked, looking far too amused and speculative. “A spinster? Is that not what she is?”
Alex’s hesitation was brief as he struggled for the right tone. “She might hear you and be offended. That will hardly do my quest good.”
“I think the point is not to do your quest any good at all, my dear fellow. Enjoy the afternoon.”
Edmund strolled away, but not toward Lady Elizabeth. Still curious, Alex watched him go.
Just when Emmeline thought she could not eat another bite of such delicious fare, Lady Morley asked the musicians playing beneath the nearby trees to begin a galliard. With glad cries, the young people abandoned their elders and became swept up in the lively dance. Alex appeared before them and reached for Blythe’s hand, winking at Emmeline as he took her sister away.
Emmeline grudgingly admitted they were a handsome pair. It seemed almost decadent to be dancing so openly under the sun. Her toes tapped in the grass, and her head nodded to the lively music. Once again, she noticed what a fine dancer Alex was, how his lean, muscular body moved with grace. He partnered Blythe well, and it was easy to forget he only amused himself for the moment.
When the dance ended, people called for more, and suddenly Emmeline found her own hand grasped in a much larger, warmer one. She looked up to see Alex leaning over her, his face in shadow due to the blinding sun above him. He filled every part of her vision; her breath seemed to catch in her throat.
“Now, didn’t I promise you this would be a glorious day?” he asked, and tugged on her hand.
She tried to pull away. “Sir Alexander, please, I do not dance.”
“You mean you have not danced recently,” he said as he brought her to her feet. He didn’t release her hand, and her fingers tingled against the heat of his skin.
Blythe was beside them, laughing and pushing Emmeline farther out onto the lawn. “Go with him, Emmy! ’Tis such fun!”
Alex’s arm came about her waist as he drew her forward, and she saw the stares and the whispers travel in a circle about them. She knew he had imbibed far too much of the potent wine, and his behavior was surely proof. She must be scarlet with embarrassment, but that did not stop her from noticing how good a man’s arm felt about her, and how she could feel his long fingers splayed at her ribs. It had been so long.
“She calls you Emmy?” he said softly into her ear.
His lips grazed her skin, and gooseflesh shivered across her arms.
“A pet name only,” she said as Alex’s arm came across the front of her body so they could pivot about one another. She was almost afraid to breathe because her breasts might touch him.
“Enjoy the day, Emmeline. Put your arm about me like a good girl.”
“Do not scold me as if I were a child!”
But reluctantly, she settled her arm across his body and held onto his waist only a moment before the Italian Pazzemeno began. He suddenly whirled her about, and her feet remembered the steps. Soon they were advancing side by side in a solemn march toward the trees, then gliding effortlessly as if across a polished floor.
Emmeline’s breath came in gasps, and she felt like laughing at the sheer joy of moving so freely.
She knew what was coming next, but she could not prepare herself for the feel of Alex’s hands sliding up her ribs, nor the sudden sensation of weightlessness as he effortlessly lifted her into the air. This time she did laugh aloud, and he grinned up at her for a suspended moment, until the dance required him to set her down.
What was she thinking? How could she so freely have given into the pleasure of the dance? She couldn’t meet Alex’s gaze, knowing he was only amusing himself.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
She heard the laughter in his voice. It made her stiffen and lift her face to his, even as they whirled about each other. His black eyes were as warm as twilight at the end of a summer day, full of pleasure—but it did not seem at her expense. As the trees whirled behind his head, and the sun flickered in his dark hair, she stared back at him, biting her lip to keep from smiling. But devil that he was, he knew and was pleased with himself.
It was over too quickly, and he was soon leading her back to the bench.
“Blythe was right,” he said softly. “You are a wonderful dancer.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling overheated and overwrought by the sensations his touch invoked inside her.
Blythe flung herself onto the seat and hugged her. “You were incredible! Did you not see that, Alex?”
“Yes, I did,” he replied almost gravely.
Emmeline wanted to cover her face in mortification. What was wrong with her? She was here to protect her sister, not fall victim to every kindness from a man who couldn’t possibly mean it.
While Alex partnered Blythe again, Emmeline desperately tried to regain her composure. Just when she thought she could watch the dancing without feeling all hot and unsettled, she realized she could no longer see Blythe.
Or Alex.
A nerve-rattling feeling clenched her stomach and she stood up quickly. Walking the perimeter of the dancers, she searched for them, but they had vanished. She spun in a slow circle, gazing at the orchard and the arbor tunnel of newly sprouting vines.
“Can I help you?”
She turned to find Sir Edmund staring down at her with kind, even sympathetic eyes.
“Have you seen my sister?”
He nodded toward the horses. “She and Alex went for a ride. They made no secret of their leave-taking.”
They wouldn’t have needed to, because Alex had flustered her so successfully. Had that been his plan?
“I must find them.” She strode toward her horse. “Was my groom accompanying them?”
“No. Isn’t that the fellow over there with the other servants? Would you like me to accompany you?” Edmund asked, walking beside her.
“No.” After glaring at her shame-faced servant, she looked about for a mounting stool.
“Allow me.”
Suddenly Sir Edmund’s big hands were on her waist, and he lifted her up into the saddle. Giving him a brief nod, she kicked her mare into a gallop.
As the gardens fell away behind her and the meadows took on a wilder, more natural appearance, all Emmeline could think about was how much wine Alex had imbibed, and how she had failed to keep her sister safe. If anything happened, she could only blame herself.
As she rounded a corner of the riding trail, she saw their two horses left to graze in the grass. She flung herself from the saddle and marched past the animals, only to draw up in shock at what she saw.
On the bank of a little stream, in the shade of draping willow trees, Alex and Blythe stood in each other’s arms, staring at one another.
Emmeline could make no sound, so heartsick was she. She leaned against a tree and watched Alex smile at her sister, a girl barely out of childhood, who didn’t know what a man was capable of.
And then Alex looked up and saw her.
Chapter 9
Alex froze when he saw Emmeline, her eyes wide and anguished as she clutched the tree. Something inside him almost snapped with pain. He didn’t want to be affected by her, but he was. He was luring away her little sister for no good reason, at the same time as he flirted shamelessly with Emmeline herself.
And his conscience began to roar back to life.
He released Blythe, who looked up at him so innocently.
“Your sister just arrived,” he said.
The girl didn’t look guilty, just turned a smile on Emmeline. “She must be upset I didn’t tell her where I was going. I’ll go speak with her. But don’t worry,” she added in a lower voice. “I won’t tell her about our wonderful kiss just yet.”
Alex wanted to wince as he watched Blythe run to her sister, catch her by the arm, and draw her toward the horses.
Their kiss.
He could hardly call it one. Blythe’s tightly closed lips had touched his for a brief moment, and he hadn’t even wanted to make it last longer. He had felt nothing, not even the arousal of holding a beautiful woman in his arms.
All he could think about was Emmeline, and how it would feel to hold her in his arms, with her mouth beneath his.
Could he not control his own thoughts anymore? he wondered darkly. Even his dreams were dwelling on her with startling regularity. Afterward, he awoke aroused and perspiring and unsatisfied.
Now he watched Emmeline help her sister into the saddle, then she stepped on a rotting log to mount her own horse with graceful athleticism. She glanced at him only briefly, and in her eyes he saw anger and the promise of retaliation, not the hurt he thought he’d glimpsed a moment before.
As the two sisters rode away, Blythe looked back and waved for him to follow. He mounted his own horse, no longer so eager for the rest of the afternoon.
When he returned to Lady Morley’s garden, the first thing he did after dismounting was drain a goblet of wine and ask for another. He told himself not to look for Emmeline. He had done nothing to be ashamed of. Men were bound to kiss her beautiful sister; why shouldn’t he be the first? Why couldn’t Emmeline understand harmless flirtation for what it was? He had spent his life flirting with women—he certainly wasn’t going to stop now.
Emmeline watched Alex swallow another mouthful of wine and shook her head in disgust. She stood beside Blythe, who was chatting with a friend. It was obvious Blythe was waiting for the perfect moment to tell her what had happened with Alex.
Just what she wanted to hear: her sister’s romantic moment with a drunken libertine.
Too soon, Blythe drew her beneath a vine-covered arbor and leaned close.
“Emmy, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going.”
Emmeline looked into her sister’s sincere eyes and worried that some day Blythe would be hurt by a man—maybe this one. “’Twas a foolish thing to do. You don’t know Sir Alexander well, nor do you know his motives.”
“We’re becoming acquainted,” Blythe said in obvious delight. “That’s a good motive.”
“And what about Lord Seabrook?”
“I’m becoming friends with him, too.”
“Make friendships while other people are around you, Blythe. Until you know these men well, you can’t trust them alone. You can’t trust the situations they might lead you into—like today.”
“Oh, it was a glorious ride, and such a peaceful place for my first kiss from a gentleman!”
“What?”
Emmeline buried her bewildered hurt, beneath an anger the likes of which she’d never felt before.
“Oh, Emmy, he kisses divinely! I wonder how Lord Seabrook kisses?”
“What else did Sir Alexander do to you?” she demanded, gripping her sister’s hand in urgency.
“Nothing,” Blythe replied in a puzzled voice. “He’s always been a gentleman.”
“Perhaps so, but it is best not to push gentlemanly manners too far,” she warned, trying not to sound as angry as she felt. “Please promise me you’ll never again go off with a man alone. You are an heiress, and many a man would kidnap you for the chance to marry such wealth.”
She laughed. “Oh, Emmy, he does not want or need my money. He come
s from a powerful family in his own right.”
“Do you see many women lining up to marry him?” Emmeline couldn’t believe how cold and cruel she sounded.
Blythe cupped Emmeline’s cheek in her hand. “You are just saying these things to scare me, and I appreciate your devotion. But look out there—does Alex look like a man who lacks female friendship?”
Emmeline turned her head, and across the lawn she could see that the dancing had resumed. Alex was in the thick of it, moving with an abandon that seemed forced. Couldn’t Blythe see that?
They returned to the gathering, and Emmeline allowed her to go off with her friends to the bridges between the ponds. Emmeline seated herself on a stool beside Lady Morley, who held court as if she were the queen herself. More and more Emmeline was one of the elders, sitting off to the side while the young people danced.
“He looks so like his brother ’tis uncanny.”
Emmeline could not help listening to the conversation going on a few feet away from her. The speaker was an older woman she hadn’t met before, whose nose was so high in the air that it was amazing a bug had not flown in.
“But he’s not like his brother,” cautioned a younger woman whose perpetual frown already marred her brow. “Do you remember that dreadful statue he presented to Her Majesty?”
Emmeline held her breath, fascinated despite herself.
“Yes, young lady, I do, though we should not be discussing it. Imagine sending a naked statue of oneself to your Queen!”
Emmeline was so busy choking down a horrified laugh that she almost missed their next words.
The young woman leaned closer to her companion, and Emmeline unashamedly leaned nearer as well.
“Tell me truly, Lady Boxworth, did it honestly have wings, like an angel?”
“Or the very devil himself,” Lady Boxworth intoned. “After displaying it rather vulgarly, the Queen gave it back to him. I understand he uses it to decorate his brother’s home.”
The two women turned to look at Alex, and Emmeline did the same. Oh, how she wished she’d known that the statue was at Thornton Manor, because she surely would have looked for it.