“Yes, I’m fine.”

He gave her a doubtful look, and she tried to decide if he questioned her answer or her sanity. Then he glanced behind her. “Are you all alone? Where is your maid?”

She flushed deeper. She was breaking the cardinal rule of marriageable young ladies: Thou shalt never find oneself unchaperoned with a gentleman—much less an unsuitable one.

Should anyone come across them, particularly with her pink cheeks and her hair all askew, she’d be ruined.

A thought she’d never considered before struck her: If she were to be compromised by a gentleman not of the aristocracy, would he still be honor-bound to marry her?

She didn’t know.

But she needn’t worry. While she still didn’t know her knight’s name, she knew him to be honorable. They’d talked of everything and nothing in their short time together. Yet every word he’d spoken, every story he’d told of his youth or the lessons he’d learned in his life or the literature that had touched his heart, made her admire him more.

Still, she imagined her father’s rage at the daughter he’d intended for a duke marrying a mere mister instead. The thought brought a bitter smile. If her father cared about what truly mattered, he’d be proud to have such a man as a son-in-law.

If only.

“I ran out of the house so quickly, I didn’t have time to wait for her,” she said, breathless now at the intensity of his hazel gaze. “I was afraid…”

“Afraid?” he asked, his voice delving into a low rumble.

She understood what he was asking. Understood, too, what his waiting in the cold for her for nearly an hour signified.

Emmaline swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat. All she had to do was have the nerve to say it aloud, and it would be out there. Between them.

I find you quite brave, he’d said that first morning they’d met.

His words gave her courage now.

“That I would be too late and you would think I no longer cared. I was afraid you would leave and never come back,” she rushed out. “I wouldn’t know where to look for you and—” She licked her lips, bracing herself to say the rest. “I couldn’t bear not seeing you again. You are the best part of my day.”

She wasn’t sure what response she’d expected, but this charged silence wasn’t it. Gradually, she became aware of the morning sounds of the park—of birds chirping, water lapping gently against the mud bank, even a goose honk in the distance. But not a word from him.

His face, which she’d once likened to a master’s painting, now reminded her of sculpted marble instead—still a work of art, but less approachable.

Nerves fluttered in her stomach. Had she misread him? Had she made a fool of herself?

“Please,” she whispered. “Say something.”

He reached for her hand instead, grasping it in both of his and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, his mouth gloriously warm and firm on her skin. His eyelids fluttered closed, as if he were savoring her, yet Emmaline couldn’t take her gaze from him. All of the tension of the morning, all her worries, fled as joy burst through her.

A long moment later, he lifted his head, but didn’t relinquish his grasp. “Your hands are cold,” he said roughly.

She laughed. “Yes, I was in such a rush to get to you, I didn’t think to grab my gloves.”

He reached for her other hand then, and brought them together palm to palm, pressing hers between his own as if in dual supplication. Lending her his warmth. But she didn’t need it. Just knowing he might feel something of what she did for him heated her from within.

“We should get you home, then,” he said.

She shook her head. “No.”

Emmaline didn’t care if she froze to death. This opportunity wouldn’t come again, to spend time with him alone—no one trailing along behind them, listening to every word.

She wasn’t naive enough to believe that her father would ever let her marry as she wished. The Duchess of Albemarle was nearing the end of her confinement, and her father insisted that his influence—and Emmaline’s blasted beauty—would win her a coronet. This time next week, she was as likely to find herself engaged to a duke as not.

This might be her only chance to be just a young lady, enjoying time with a gentleman of her choosing. Her only chance to be with him, her knight.

“No,” she repeated, and pulled her hands free of his. “Duke and I are spending our morning in the park.”

And if she was going to flout convention anyway…

“In fact, we’re planning to walk along one of the forested footpaths today. Much more picturesque,” she said, turning that direction and patting her thigh to call the pup to her.

When the dog reached her side, she turned her back on the man before tossing what she hoped was a mysterious smile over her shoulder. “And more private.”

Then she walked off, willing him to follow.

And thrilling when he did.




CHAPTER 5




PART OF MAXWELL’S question had been answered decisively. She certainly did wish to be pursued.

Into the forest, at least.

The ‘innocent, yet not’ nature of their mornings was heading more toward ‘not’ with every step they took.

But what kind of man would he be if he didn’t follow? For her protection, of course.

Neither spoke as they made their way around the lake. She set a brisk pace, and they quickly left the Serpentine behind, turning onto a path that disappeared into the tree line at the center of the park.

Alone.

Being November, there was less canopy to shield them from prying eyes than there might be in summer. However, a light fog rose up to lend a cloak of intimacy that set his nerves on edge.

Damn, but he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. That brief touch of lips to hand had only served to ignite his already simmering desire for her.

You are the best part of my day.

Had she truly said that? Max’s heart thumped in his chest, hard. Another question answered. She knew nothing of his possible dukedom, thought him no more than himself, and yet she’d all but said she wanted him.

And oh, how he wanted her.

He had to distract himself. Conversation. Conversation was safe.

He asked the first question that came to him. “What did keep you today?”

She glanced over at him, wariness flashing in the green depths of her eyes.

Well, hell. Not so safe after all. His question came close to violating the unspoken barriers they’d been so careful to hide behind. But something had shifted between them this morning. Perhaps they would both divulge truths in these woods.

He kept his gaze steady on her, encouraging.

Just when he thought she wouldn’t answer, she gave a sharp nod and said, “My father. We had an awful row.”

Her lips firmed, and she clasped her hands together across her middle as if she had to brace herself for this conversation.

“My father is an—is a peer of the realm.”

He nodded. “I’d gathered that.”

She sent him a weak smile. “I’m sure you also gathered—from what I said the day I named Duke—that he has plans for me to marry one. A duke, that is.”

Again, Max nodded, aiming for casual interest. He had no wish to spook her when they were finally speaking of something real, something personal.

“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked, curious to know her true thoughts.

Her lips twisted with chagrin. “You must think me terribly spoiled to oppose such a match.”

He huffed. “Not at all.” That would smack of the pot calling the kettle black, though she couldn’t know that. Still, while he knew his own objections to becoming a duke, what were hers to becoming a duchess? Was it simply because she didn’t wish to bow to the dictates of her family? Or did she have deeper reasons?

“I only wondered why.”

T’was her turn to huff. “For one, I should like to marry for more than just social position.”

“You would like to marry for love,” he said, his voice raspy even to his own ears.

Her eyes flew back to him. “Yes,” she said simply.

Their gazes held as they walked side by side.

“Me, as well,” he admitted, and realized he meant it. He hadn’t given much thought to marriage or family, so consumed was he with his fight to win representation for those who needed it most. But whether he became a duke or remained a barrister, love was something he wanted in his life.

He could love her.

Perhaps. Should he become the duke, and thus a suitable husband for her, perhaps he could.

Who was he kidding? It would be easy to love her, whether he became a duke or not.

But they weren’t discussing him. Or were they?

“Perhaps you could come to love this duke,” he ventured.

She looked away from him then, and one delicate shoulder lifted in a half-shrug. “Perhaps I already have feelings for another.”

Another hard thump of his heart. She meant him.

He should confess all. It was clear her feelings were for him, not a title. He could tell her now, and then if he were to inherit, they could—

“But that’s not the only reason I have no wish to marry this duke,” she said, and the words died on his lips.

“No?”

He noticed she’d started wringing her hands now. He walked along beside her in the tense silence, allowing her time to gather her thoughts. He used the time to think as well. Surely whatever concerns she had could be overcome. Were he to become duke, he’d do anything in his power to make her happy.

Finally, she released a long breath, as if unburdening herself of things she’d long wished to say.

“I imagine most girls dream of being a duchess,” she said. “We’re taught from the cradle that it is the pinnacle of womanhood.” She rolled her eyes then, and her lips pursed. “But for me, it’s not a dream. It’s expected.”

She released her hands, bringing them to her sides in fists.

“I live my life allowed only to do that which increases my marital prospects. And because of my—” She darted a glance at him, her cheeks pinking before she looked away again. “Because of how I look, I am often treated with snideness from other women. I am over-scrutinized and talked about wherever I go—just loudly enough that I can hear them even though I must pretend that I don’t.”

While she no longer wrung her hands, the thumb on her left one worked furiously against another of her fingers. An expression of nerves, he’d wager. Then her lips twisted into a wry smile. “I know, poor little rich girl.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all,” he said. “I was thinking how of awful that must be.”

She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I no longer wish to be an object of society,” she said. “As a duchess, it will be even worse. Perhaps I’d have more liberty as a married woman—if my husband allows it. But I’d be even more in the stage lights. Expected to be perfect all of the time.”

He didn’t think she could ever not be perfect, but this didn’t seem the time tell her so.

And he understood her fears. Hadn’t he been looking at the dukedom as a prison of sorts? But maybe it didn’t have to be. Maybe, together, they could create their own freedom.

“That’s not the worst of it, though,” she all but whispered, making this quiet, foggy footpath feel even more like a place of confession. His ears pricked at the seriousness of her tone. Here, they would come to to crux of it.

“I have a sister,” she said. “An older sister. She is my favorite person in the world. She is kind and funny and…well, she is all that is good.”

She went silent again. And again, that thumb slid over and over its neighboring knuckle.

“She sounds delightful,” he offered, hoping she’d continue her thought.

“She is, though you’ll never convince her of it. You see…” She looked over at him and the pain that strained the lines of her face hurt to look upon.

“My sister is what most call plain. I think her beautiful in every way, but our parents…well, they value only what others see, only what they deem the loftiest lord will wish to marry. Our entire lives, they have compared the two of us and…found her wanting.”

Her voice warbled and bright red splotched her cheeks now—from anger, or embarrassment, or chafing from the wind, he couldn’t be certain.

“And now they have forced her into an engagement with someone entirely unworthy of her, simply to clear the way for me to land their duke,” she spat.

Definitely anger at the injustice, then. He expected nothing less from his Boadicea.

But he also saw shame shining bright and wet in her eyes.

She was stunningly beautiful. She’d taken his breath away from the moment he’d first seen her. But he’d been equally taken by her bravery, her protectiveness and her spirit.