"Of course," said Harry, shepherding James out of the door. "We'll let you know the moment Lady Emily is found safe."
"Very kind," muttered Jacob, already sinking into sleep. "Very kind."
They closed the door quietly so as not to disturb him.
"Now, James," said Harry, clapping a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You know I don't usually recommend strong liquor in times of stress, but I think this moment calls for an exception."
"The last thing I want to do is sit around drinking," said James. "Emily could arrive at any moment."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You've a great deal of faith in the girl's abilities."
"She isn't like other girls, Harry." James shrugged his arm away. "I need some air. I can't bear to stand around doing nothing."
"None of that. I gave my word I'd keep an eye on you."
James sighed. At every turn he came up against the brick wall of honour. "Very well. I'll stay on the road and within twenty strides of the inn at all times. You can hardly object to that."
"I suppose not. Very well, off you go. I'll stay and wait for the footmen to report back."
James left the inn and strode miserably through the picturesque dappling of sunlight and shade on the roadside.
Here he was, breathing the same air as Emily. Feeling the same sun on his face. Perhaps even listening to the same breeze rustle the leaves. But where was she?
He found a fallen tree at the edge of the road and sat on it, head in his hands. Inwardly, he was a turmoil of worry and frustration. Outwardly, he was frozen. Ordered to remain.
It was intolerable!
The breeze rose to a rustling crescendo and then died again, stirring branches the height of several men above James's head. It was a beautiful afternoon. A little murmur of conversation was audible from the inn, and besides that, only birdsong and the cheerful whistle of some farmer boy coming down the road.
James raised his head. How odd. That whistling was the exact tune he'd danced to with Emily while Susan played the harp.
It couldn't be –
He leapt to his feet and raced towards the source of the sound. There, only feet away from him, coming over the brow of a little hill with a swing in her step and a sweet tune on her lips, was Emily.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Emily had a couple of twigs caught in her hair. Her dress was muddy. Her face was tired and wan. Altogether, she looked more wonderful than James had ever seen her.
She saw him at the same moment he caught sight of her. Her eyes widened. For a moment he was afraid she was a nymph of the forest, called into being by his own longing, and soon to vanish into a wisp of smoke.
She ran forward and flung herself into his arms. Yes, she was solid. Warmer than the sunlight. Softer than the breeze. She was everything.
Before James could remember his vow, Emily had pressed her lips to his.
They had never kissed this way before. Tenderly, quietly, with their bodies pressed against each other in perfect synchrony. It made his heart ache for all the different kisses the future no longer promised them. The rhythms of each other's hearts they would never grow to know.
"Is it really you?" Emily asked. "Are you really here? But how?"
James stilled her questions with another kiss. He could not bear to explain it all to her yet.
Emily was the more pragmatic of the two. She broke away with a cry of despair. "James, Jacob says I am to marry Chiltern! Papa has arranged it all. Oh, how will I survive it?"
James curled a lock of her dark hair around his finger. "He is not a bad man."
"But I do not love him. And, now that I know what love is, I cannot bear to marry without it!"
"Emily, I asked your father for your hand in marriage." He spoke quickly, unable to stand the hope that rose in her eyes. "He refused. He will never allow our marriage."
"Then we must run away – do it properly this time. We will go somewhere they will never find us. If we go now, before anybody knows I'm back –"
"I can't, Emily." His voice trembled with emotion. "I gave my word I would not pursue you dishonourably. Your father is so worried about you. I can't take you away without letting him know you are safe."
"I will write and let him know."
"You would not be so cruel. Think of your mother. Your brother. They are beside themselves."
"But they intend to keep me from the man I love!" Emily clutched at him desperately. "James, there is no dishonour in eloping if that is the only option that remains to us."
"You would be ruined. Cast out from Society. Your family would no longer speak your name. And we would have nothing. I promised my brother I would not do this. We cannot rely on his good will if we defy him. We would be paupers, Emily."
She pressed her head against his chest, listening for his heartbeat. "We would be together."
"I won't do it to you. I won't break my word."
James realised that the time had come for their embrace to end. This time, it was forever. "Come now," he said, pushing her gently away. "Let's not talk of the future. I'll take you into the inn, where Jacob is waiting, and on the way you can tell me how on earth you managed to navigate your way out of the woods alone."
"It was the easiest thing in the world," said Emily. "I covered astral navigation in my studies last year. Yes, I ran far enough into the woods – to get away from Jacob and his awful plans, as much as from the highwaymen – but once I got there I remembered that Chiltern lay to the north, and that there would surely be inns along the way, and if I followed the north star I would surely hit upon the road and from there be able to take a mail coach back to Westbourne Hall."
"And you would have been alone with my mother there, while I refused to leave this forest until you were found!" James smiled. "A pretty pair we would have made."
Emily slipped her hand into his. He didn't have the heart to remind her he had no right to hold her hand anymore. "Fate has brought us back together," she said happily. "The stars led me to you, and the stars want us to be happy."
"If only your father had studied astrology," said James, with a sigh.
The moment they entered the inn, they encountered Harry and a rather accusatory stare.
"Good afternoon, Your Grace," said Emily, with a pretty curtsy. "Please forgive my state of dress. I have passed the night tramping through the forest, you see."
"I am on my way to deliver Lady Emily directly to her brother," said James. Harry relented and stood back, letting the two of them continue alone.
"Go straight upstairs," he warned them. "No shenanigans!"
Emily's eyes widened, matching James's in their expression of perfect innocence. "Why, Your Grace, whatever do you mean?"
James hurried her onwards before Harry could make his reply.
They stood together at the door to Jacob's room.
"I have kept my promise," said James, Emily's hand still clutched in his. "We will not have the chance to be alone again."
"Don't say that!"
"But I must. Else all that I want you to know will go unsaid, too. Emily, believe me. Since the moment I set eyes on you, I have seen nothing else. You have changed me completely. If I only had the chance, I swear on the stars I would dedicate my life to your happiness." He pressed her hand to his lips. "That chance has been denied us, my love, but I promise you that not a day will go by -"
"Will you give it a rest?" cried Jacob, from inside the room. "I'm not asleep, you know! I can hear every blasted word!"
Emily's eyes were bright with laughter. She pushed open the door. "Oh! Jacob! What happened to you? Your poor head!"
"I don't know what else you expected, without my brave sister there to defend me!" he smiled. "Come on in, Marsden, don't just stand there in the doorway. There's no need to be shy." He winked. "I swear it on the stars."
Emily sat on the edge of Jacob's bed and began fussing with his pillows. "There's no need to tease, Jacob. You are only jealous that no-one has ever said such nice things to
you."
"And I doubt anyone will, if father has his way and marries me off to the first moneyed Miss who comes calling," Jacob sighed. "Listen, I know I was hard on you the other day, but I really do sympathise. Love is a rare thing among our class. It's a shame to squash it when it does appear."
"You could do a great deal to help us, you know," said Emily, taking his hand. "If you spoke to father..."
"I'll do my best," said Jacob. "I can't promise anything, but I will try. Any fool can see that you're really in love with each other. And I hate to admit it, but Marsden – of all people! – has been quite the gentleman. Which is more than I can say for you, dear sister."
"What can I say?" asked Emily, eyes sparkling. "I must have had the most terrible example set me by my big brother."
They were interrupted by a thundering of feet upon the stairs.
"Emily!" came her father's voice. The note of hope and terror in it would have touched even the hardest of hearts. "Emily, are you really there? Are you safe, dear girl?"
"Papa," she called merrily. "There's no need to worry."
The Duke of Rawly ran into the room and embraced her with such force that she could barely breathe.
"How did you manage to evade the highwaymen?" he demanded. "And to come through the forest without encountering the search parties?"
"I doubt it was as difficult as you think, Papa," she said. "I followed the stars, and then the position of the sun, and whenever I heard someone nearby I hid myself in the bushes. I admit to being a little tired, but none the worse for wear!"
"Thank heaven you're safe," her father sighed. "Emily, if something had happened to you..."
"But it seems nothing did," said the Marquess, who had come up the stairs at a regular pace behind him. "We are all very grateful for it." He bowed to Emily. "Good afternoon, my dear. I trust your experience was not too unpleasant."
"What on earth possessed you to get out of the carriage in the first place?" her father asked. Emily's eyes flickered between James and the Marquess.
"I – I don't think I can say," she stammered. The Marquess held up a finger.
"In that case, will you allow me to guess?"
"My dear Chiltern –" began Rawly, but the Marquess shook his head.
"Please, allow me to finish. It seems there is no possible explanation for Lady Emily's attempt to run away than this one." He turned to Emily. "You have no wish to marry me."
Emily bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said. "I hope you're not too disappointed. But, my lord, if you'll forgive the question... Is it a wife you really want, or a governess for Annabelle?"
The Marquess smiled wryly. "You are too clever by half, Lady Emily. Perhaps you are right. I must admit that my whole heart has been my daughter's for so long that I cannot imagine opening it to another. I had hoped that, in time, you might teach me." He nodded to James. "But I think you have already taught somebody else."
"Please, Chiltern," said the Duke of Rawly, "accept my assurances that nothing untoward has ever passed between my daughter and Mr Marsden –"
"Nothing except half an elopement, a vow of undying love, and doubtless half a ton of kisses to boot," interrupted Jacob.
"Silence!" his father thundered. "Do you mean to ruin your sister's prospects forever?"
"Her prospects of happiness are what concern me most, father."
The Duke of Rawly shook his finger towards James. "Heed my words, Marsden. For as long as Emily has another suitor breathing, I will never accept you as my son-in-law."
"Then I am afraid I have no other option than to free Lady Emily from our engagement," said the Marquess smoothly. The Duke's mouth opened and closed like a fish on dry land.
"Chiltern, you cannot –"
"I certainly can. Come now, Rawly, do you really want to be the cause of your only daughter's misery?" The Marquess gave him a hard look. "I hope that if I ever find Annabelle in such a situation, I will be the first to accept her choice."
The Duke of Rawly looked at Emily. "Is this really your decision, my girl? You want to marry him? You might be a Marchioness, you know. Or – I'm certain we could still persuade the Earl of Corden..."
Emily smiled up at her father. "I have chosen, Papa."
The Duke closed his eyes. "Very well. But you must be the one to break the news to your mother. I am no coward, but I'm certainly not brave enough for that."
Emily clapped her hands in delight. "Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?"
"Yes," sighed the Duke. He beckoned James towards him and placed Emily's hand in his. "Have her, Marsden, and be happy. I suppose the pair of you have as much a chance at marital happiness in this world as any other."
"Hurrah!" shouted Jacob, despite the face he pulled at the pain in his head. The Marquess was all smiles.
"Allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Mr Marsden. I wish you a much more successful engagement than my own."
James felt Emily lace her fingers through his. His heart was full.
"A short engagement, I hope," said Emily, drawing a snort of embarrassment from her father.
James was aching to kiss her, but all that would have to wait now. Their time of hiding in corners and stealing kisses was at an end. Now, it would all be public, chaperoned, and formal – until their wedding night.
"Long or short, my love," he said, sending a pulse of excitement from his hand into hers. "We will have the rest of our lives to make up for the wait."
Epilogue
James had never dreamed of his wedding day. He had sat quite happily through his brothers' weddings with an arm around the shoulders of his weeping mother, never once picturing the moment his own bride would walk towards him in her wedding dress. His finger had never felt empty for lack of a gold ring.
If he had dreamed of it, however, he knew that all his imaginings would have been nothing compared to the perfection that was Emily with white flowers in her hair, walking towards him past a crowd of their closest friends and relatives, and linking her arm through his with a mischievous wink that belied her solemnity.
She looked like a piece of heaven that had fallen upon the earth. Her dress, gold lamé over a white silk slip, brought out the golden notes in her autumnal hair. Her eyes glimmered with a still more precious sparkle. The touch of her hand on his arm was enough to make his knees tremble.
James knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never again look at another woman. He would never have the need. Emily was already the centre of his life, and they were about to take the vows to prove it.
She said her part in those clear, melodious tones which had first captured his heart. James struggled to remember to keep breathing as he spoke his own words. He slid the ring onto her delicate finger.
He bent to kiss her, once, chastely on the lips, while their families cheered.
It was a fine morning for a wedding, sunny and clear. Emily had got her wish for a short engagement, and her father had bought a special licence for them to be married quickly and at home. The finery of the Duke of Rawly's townhouse was nearly unmatched throughout the city, after all.
Lady Sarah and Lady Harriet were in attendance, of course, in bridesmaids dresses of matching blue. They carried bouquets of white freesias that loosed an intoxicating perfume, and flirted outrageously with all the single gentlemen in attendance.
James had been amazed to find that one of those gentlemen was Lord Henry Digby.
"Harriet insisted," said Emily mysteriously, when James raised an eyebrow and nodded towards the ill-fated charmer. James was about to protest when he saw that Emily had been quite right to allow it: wherever Harriet went, Digby followed, with an expression like a doting puppy. Harriet fed him titbits of conversation and smiles and spent the wedding breakfast with a satisfied smirk on her lips.
"Can she trust him?" James whispered, leaning towards Emily's ear. She laughed.
"Why not? He has lately received some very good advice, and I am pleased to say that he seems to have taken it."
>
The Marquess of Chiltern waited in line to give his congratulations to the happy couple, but Annabelle rushed on ahead to kiss the "pretty lady", jumping in front of the Dowager Duchess of Westbourne.
"One day, I want to get married, too," Annabelle declared. "But I will ride to my wedding on a great big stallion!"
"You will make quite the spectacle," said Emily fondly. "I can hardly wait."
The Marquess hurried over to pull Annabelle aside. "Come now, Annabelle, we mustn't push in."
"It's quite alright," said Emily. The Marquess bowed to her with not a trace of sadness in his eyes.
"I am more pleased than I can tell you to see things turn out so happily."
"My dear Marquess!" exclaimed the Dowager Duchess. She blew a quick kiss to the couple and immediately led him aside. The poor Marquess was quite powerless to resist her momentum. "I hear you are looking for a governess? Let me tell you, I have just the girl..."
James took the opportunity to run his fingers lightly up Emily's spine. Satisfaction stirred within him as she tremble at his touch. "This is all very well," he whispered, "but I must admit I'm more than a little impatient. I want my wife to myself."
Emily touched a finger to his lips, to an audible gasp from her mother. James was glad to see that marriage had not altered her taste for impropriety. "Only a few hours, my love."
It was almost more than James could bear. He was hardly used to the idea that Emily was really his; he needed some physical proof to completely understand it. The warmth of her kisses. The yearning pressure of her body against his, and everything that naturally followed on a wedding night...
He could not wait to know her more deeply than anyone else ever had. The deepest, most intimate connection that was the blessing of marriage alone.
He was shaken awake from his reverie by a hefty thump to his back from the Duke of Rawly. It took him a moment to realise that he was not being attacked, but congratulated.
"Welcome to the family, my son!" the Duke boomed. Their engagement had been just long enough to see a complete reversal in the Duke's opinion of James. For himself, James was still half-terrified of the older man, but he was determined not to show it. "Doubtless you will be very happy," the Duke continued, as satisfied as though he had been in favour of the marriage all along. "Very happy indeed."
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