Fatigue washed over her. She swayed to one side, then the other, and nearly collapsed. In a trice, like the hero he was reputed to be, he swept her into his arms. Suddenly, she was cradled to his chest, but as swiftly as he’d picked her up, he deposited her in a chair.
He stood over her, frowning, his consternation clear.
“You don’t seem the swooning type to me,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“Yet if I hadn’t caught you, you’d be an unconscious heap on my rug.”
She gazed at the floor and studied his boots. “I’m just a bit hungry.”
“Hungry . . .”
“Yes.”
A tense silence ensued, his anger wafting over her.
“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“Let me guess. You had food, from the basket I sent you, but you gave it to your sisters.”
The basket he’d promised hadn’t been received. If he’d told Mr. Mason to have it delivered, Mason would never have followed through. She could have explained what occurred, but why bother? He refused to accept the truth about Mason, and he would simply discount her version of events.
“Yes,” she murmured, “I gave them the last of the food.”
“Do you ever put yourself first? Or can you only see that others need help but not you? If you become ill from self-neglect, who will care for Nan and Nell?”
“I can’t bear for them to suffer because of me. It breaks my heart.”
Tears surged and splashed down her cheeks, and she swiped at them with her hands. A deluge was coming on, and she felt as if she might weep for a week. She wanted to mourn what had been forfeit, her dead parents and lost home and lost life. There wasn’t enough water in the world to supply the flood of grief pounding in her.
“Are you crying?” He was aghast.
“Yes,” she admitted, too sad to claim otherwise.
“For pity’s sake, you can’t . . . cry. Stop it.”
“We’re not all as tough as you. I can’t always control myself.”
“But how are we to carry on a rational discussion when you’re so emotional?”
“You’re a smart fellow. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“Emeline,” he started, prepared to launch into another tirade.
“If you can’t stand my upset, go away. I’ll pull myself together in a few minutes, then you can shout at me again.”
She kept staring at the floor, and she watched his feet as he dawdled, shifting his weight back and forth. She could sense his exasperation.
He was used to issuing orders and having them obeyed. He supposed he could command her to ignore her despair, like turning off a faucet, but he didn’t realize the depth of her woe. She wasn’t about to feign false cheer merely to accommodate him, not when her eviction had been commenced at his direction. If she wanted to cry, she would, and he couldn’t prevent her.
He pondered and fumed, then growled with frustration. To her surprise, he lifted her up and scooted underneath her onto the chair. He settled her on his lap, her hip on his hard thigh, her face pressed to his nape. Her tears wet his shirt.
“You’d drive me to drink,” he muttered, “if I didn’t already imbibe.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Be silent, or I’ll remember how much you annoy me.”
Instantly, she forgot that she hated him, that he’d been the cause of her difficulties. He was offering comfort, and she was desperate to receive it.
“I’ve been alone and so afraid,” she mumbled.
“I know.”
“I haven’t had anyone to advise or assist me. I haven’t had anyone to take my side.”
“Hush.” He stroked her hair and back. “It will be all right now.”
She didn’t believe it could be all right ever again, but she was willing to pretend, willing to soak in the caress of his gentle hand, the whisper of his supportive words.
She might have sat there forever, wallowing in his solace, but she heard the door open. Someone hovered in the threshold, but didn’t enter. Lord Stafford made a shooing motion, and as the door was quietly shut, Emeline was forced to recollect that the earth was still spinning outside his library.
Who had peeked in? What would that person have thought? With reality quickly sinking in, embarrassment swept over her.
“It was my brother,” he said as if he could read her mind. “Don’t worry about him.”
She drew away so she could peer into his blue eyes. She was so close to him, just inches apart, and her pulse pounded.
Though they were fully clothed and naught of import had occurred, she felt naked and exposed. He’d observed her at her weakest, at her most vulnerable, but she’d witnessed something of him too. He had a capacity for empathy she was certain he’d later wish he hadn’t revealed.
“I must look a fright.” She chuckled, hoping to lighten the tension.
“Yes,” he teasingly agreed, “you’re a veritable drab. I’ve never seen such a hideous sight.”
“Oh, you.”
He produced a kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her cheeks. As he dropped it, she assumed he would release her, but he didn’t.
The most incredible moment developed, and her pulse raced at an even faster clip. She was perched on the edge of a miracle, as if any glorious deed could transpire.
He eased her nearer and touched his lips to hers. He was tentative, as if asking permission.
His advance rattled her, and she should have refused it, but she couldn’t move beyond the fact that he was continuing to comfort her, and she hadn’t yet had enough. She was an empty vessel of sorrow and remorse, and he could fill her to overflowing. She didn’t have to do anything to make it happen. She merely had to accept what he was eager to give.
The kiss was chaste and dear, as if he was a young boy with his first sweetheart, as if she was a treasure he cherished. They both sighed, contentment surging between them.
They
