“She had breakfast in her room this morning since we arrived home so late from the ball,” Baldwin shared.
Oliver had just taken a bite of his food when Pratt stepped into the room and met his gaze. “Miss Lockhart is here to call upon you, milord,” he announced.
Oliver gulped, nearly choking on his food, as he stared back at the butler. “Miss Lockhart is here to see me?” he repeated back in disbelief.
“Yes,” Pratt confirmed.
Baldwin leaned closer to him and whispered, “Are you going to meet with her or not?”
“I’m not sure,” Oliver replied honestly. “It is entirely inappropriate for an engaged woman to call upon a gentleman.”
“Are you going to send her away?” Baldwin asked.
Oliver pushed back his chair and rose. “No, I would never be so cold and heartless as to disrespect Emmeline so horrendously.” He directed his next comment towards Pratt. “Will you show her to the drawing room?”
Pratt tipped his head and went to do his bidding.
“Why do you suppose she is here?” Corbyn questioned.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Oliver placed his napkin onto his plate. “I am not sure, but I must admit that I am rather curious.”
He exited the dining room and headed across the entry hall towards the drawing room. As he stepped into the room, he saw Emmeline was standing next to the window, looking out over the gardens. To say that she was a beautiful young woman would be an understatement, especially with her high cheekbones, creamy white skin, and delicate features. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a simple chignon, drawing attention to her wide, expressive blue eyes.
“Good morning, Miss Lockhart,” he greeted.
Emmeline gave him a curious look as she stepped away from the window. “Why are you addressing me so formally?”
“Well, you are engaged to be married.”
A look of disapproval came to her lovely features. “Yes, I have come to speak to you about that.”
“Is that so?” He took a step towards her.
Emmeline opened her mouth and then promptly closed it. She took a deep breath before saying, “I believe I may have been too hasty in turning down your offer of marriage.”
Oliver considered her for a moment. “Well, I believe it was for the best,” he said.
“Oh,” she murmured.
He took another step towards her and stopped, leaving more than enough distance to be considered proper. “Don’t you agree?”
Oliver watched as a blush crept up onto her cheeks, and he found it oddly adorable.
Emmeline smoothed down her dark blue riding habit as she lowered her gaze towards the carpet. “I… umm… don’t.”
“Pardon?”
Bringing her gaze back up, she said, “If you are still offering, I would like to accept.”
He lifted his brow at that bold declaration. “May I ask what changed your mind?”
“I think I would much prefer being married to you than the Duke of Billingham,” she said, her voice growing more confident with each word.
“Why is that?”
Emmeline squared her shoulders. “We are friends and I think we would suit much more admirably.”
“Even though I am a rake?”
Her gaze flickered to the ground. “I understand that men have urges—” she began.
Speaking over her, he asked in an amused tone, “And how would you know that?”
She brought her hands up to cover her reddened cheeks. “I don’t know firsthand, mind you, but I have been told as much.”
“I see,” he replied.
Emmeline looked at him with hopeful eyes. “Does this mean you are still willing to marry me?” she asked.
He sighed as he broke their gaze. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”
“Oh,” she breathed as the light in her eyes dimmed. “I am sorry for disturbing you, my lord.”
As she moved to brush past him, he reached out and grabbed her arm. “Don’t go just yet, Emme,” he said.
“I’m afraid I must,” she replied, keeping her gaze straight ahead.
“Why?” Oliver could see the tears well up in her eyes and watched as she ferociously blinked them back.
“I knew I shouldn’t come,” she breathed.
He leaned closer and asked, “Then why did you?”
She turned her head towards him, making their faces only inches apart. “I had to try,” she whispered as a tear slid down her cheek.
“You don’t want to marry me, Emme,” he said, his eyes roaming over her face.
“I do,” she replied. “You are my last hope, and I messed that up by refusing your offer.”
Oliver dropped his hand from hers but remained close. “Don’t say that.” He reached out and wiped the tear off her face. “I can’t provide you the life that you deserve.”
“I don’t care about that,” she asserted.
He found his stance softening towards her, and it was her tears that were his undoing. “I can’t offer you love, Emme. The only thing I can offer you with certainty is the protection of my name.”
“I understand.”
Bringing his hand up, he placed it on her right shoulder. “This would be a marriage in name only.”
“Don’t you require an heir?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
He shook his head. “I don’t intend to have children.”
Her moist blue eyes sparkled, transfixing him. “I can accept that,” she murmured.
“We shall have to depart for Gretna Green tonight so we can marry before your aunt and uncle suspect anything.”
A timid smile came to her lips. “That won’t be an issue.”
“There is one last thing,” he said, “and this is nonnegotiable.”
“What is that?” she asked with a slight tremor in her voice.
His eyes darted towards her lips. “We must seal the deal with a kiss.”
Emmeline reared back slightly, and he let his hand drop to his side. “I have never kissed anyone before,” she admitted in a soft voice.
“It is really quite simple,” he said with a flirtatious smile.
She nodded her head before she closed her eyes and remained perfectly rigid.
“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.
Without opening her eyes, she replied, “I am waiting for you to kiss me.”
He chuckled. “I was hoping you would be more of an active participant in the kiss.”
“What would
