And she could. He rested his hands upon her waist, and as they waltzed, she could feel the sunlight on her face. Though the air was cool and autumn was swiftly approaching, she would remember this day’s warmth and sunshine.
She reached up to his face, and it was then that she felt the coolness of his skin. She touched his forehead and his cheeks, and though he was forcing a smile, she sensed he was not feeling well.
“How much pain are you in?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter. This is our wedding day, and I’ll not be letting anything get in the way of that.”
Which meant he was putting on a brave face for her sake. And it made her wonder how many days he’d had to endure pain and suffering while trying to appear as if nothing was wrong. It must be exhausting.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked. “Food or something to drink, perhaps? Or should we leave early so you can rest?”
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t make a difference, Emma. I will stay as long as you want me to.” And before she could voice another protest, he leaned in and stole a kiss.
This one was far different from the kiss that sealed their wedding vows. He kissed her like a man who knew he had only a little time left in the world. She clung to him, yielding as he laid siege to her defenses.
Her body came alive at his touch, awakening to more. Against the juncture of her hips she could feel his desire, and an echoing ache answered within her. The pine scent of his skin allured her, and she broke away from the kiss, resting her face against his throat to inhale.
He let out a shaky breath and admitted, “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go home now.”
Emma didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but beneath her fingertips, the pulse at his throat was as wild as her own.
She couldn’t deny her own fears of what was to come on their wedding night. Her stepmother had told her nothing at all, and the only knowledge she had of conceiving children was from gossip and whispers she wasn’t meant to overhear in the ballroom.
“Could we stay just a little longer?” she asked. “W-we still have the wedding cake,” she said. “And our guests will be waiting.”
He stopped and rested his forehead against hers. Though he acceded to her wishes, she sensed that he wanted to distract himself from his pain. She rested her hands on each side of his face for a moment before pulling back.
“I haven’t forgotten our agreement,” she said. And although she was frightened, she told herself that Cormac Ormond, the Earl of Dunmeath, had done everything to help her. All he wanted in return was a child. Surely, she could set aside her fears and give him what he needed.
Chapter Seven
It was laterin the afternoon before they left the celebration, and Cormac could barely remember anything about the wedding. His stomach was killing him, though he’d drunk medicines Hawkins had found for him in the hope that he could dull the pain. But at last, he was married. And if he could somehow get through the vicious pain, he would share Emma’s bed and perhaps attempt to conceive his heir.
The carriage continued on through the cobbled streets, and he took slow breaths, trying not to think of his illness. His wife was seated across from him, her mood pensive.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m trying not to be terrified,” she admitted. “I know my responsibilities, but I don’t know what to do.”
He reached out to take her gloved hand. “It’s grateful I am that you’ve agreed to this marriage. And I swear I will not hurt you. I hope to bring you naught but pleasure.”
He could hear her shallow breathing, though she gripped his hand in return. “I—I’ll try.”
It had been a long time since he’d been with a virgin or any woman at all. Even then, he’d been a green lad himself, knowing nothing except a quick tumble. He wanted this to be good for Emma, for her to take joy in their union.
“It will be all right,” he swore. After a while, the carriage came to a stop in front of his townhouse. Cormac escorted her from the vehicle, and as they walked toward the entrance, he murmured, “Eleven steps.”
Her hand tightened on his arm, and the look in her eyes held a startled expression. But he paused in front of the first step and then walked with her to the front door. Under his breath, he murmured, “Two more and then the threshold.”
The footman held the door open for them and then his secretary Hawkins stepped forward with a smile. “May I be the first to welcome you, Lady Dunmeath?”
“Thank you,” Emma answered, braving an answering smile.
Then Hawkins added to Cormac, “All the arrangements you requested have been made, my lord.”
“Very good.” He turned to Emma and asked, “Would you like a tour of the house? Or would you rather rest first?”
Her cheeks flushed, and she answered, “A tour, if you don’t mind.”
