With a light bow, he smiled. “I will see you next week to discuss this further.”
*
When Emma awakenedin the cottage, she reached over for Cormac and found him gone. She sat up and picked up her discarded chemise from the floor, pulling it over her head. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, and she was about to go look for him, when the door suddenly opened.
“Good morning,a stór.I’ve brought you breakfast.”
She heard him set down the tray and walked toward him. He caught her in his arms and kissed her, and she surrendered to the now-familiar touch of her husband. But she saw him carrying a brown paper parcel under his other arm.
“What is that you’re carrying?”
“Part of your lessons, as I promised.”
She had no idea what he meant by that. Her lessons at Mrs. Harding’s School for Young Ladies were over. “But we’re already married. I thought—”
“Lessons for the things you missed out on when you were a child,” he added. “Painting, books, cards. Perhaps archery.” The enthusiasm in his voice brought a pang to her heart. Although she knew he’d made these arrangements in an effort to please her, she couldn’t deny that it felt like pity. No, she hadn’t experienced any of these things. But there wasn’t truly a reason for them now. Even if she did try painting, she wouldn’t be able to see the results. She would never be able to read on her own. And as for archery...
“No one should let me near a bow and arrows,” she warned.
“Not alone, no. But we could practice together. I’ve made arrangements with the innkeeper who owns our cottage. I just need to know what you’d like to try first.”
His enthusiasm was endearing, but she took his hand in hers. “Cormac, as I said before, I don’t really need to experience those things. It’s all right if we do the thingsyouwant to do.”
He stroked her hair back and admitted, “This is the first time in almost a year that I’ve felt as good as I do now. And while I’d be glad enough to spend that time trying for our heir, I don’t know when I’ll feel this way again. I’d rather take advantage while I can.”
At that, she gave a nod. “All right. But you choose.”
The excitement in his voice reminded her of a young boy with a bowl of candy. “Archery contest it is.”
She sensed that he had a competitive spirit, but there truly was no chance of her even striking the target without him helping her aim. “I think you’re going to win.”
“I might.” He reached for her stays and handed them to her. “Do you want me to send a maid to help you dress?”
“You can help me,” she said with a smile.
“I’d rather undress you,a stór, but I suppose if I’m wanting to teach you archery, I should be on better behavior.”
“Perhaps later you’ll get that chance,” she said.
Half an hour later, Emma found herself outside where a straw target was set up a good distance away. She could only see the blurred straw and what might have been paint in the center. Beside her, Cormac held something that she assumed was a bow.
“Are you ready to learn archery?” he asked. There was an edge of eagerness to his voice, and although she knew she would fail miserably at it, she would never dream of ruining his enjoyment.
“I suppose,” she answered. “I would ask you to demonstrate, except you could tell me that you hit the center, and I wouldn’t know any differently.”
“I’ll be honest,” he promised. “Here, take the bow.”
She did, and the wood felt smooth and polished against her fingertips. The bowstring was taut, and she experimented with pulling it back. “It’s not as easy to draw the bowstring as I thought it would be.”
“It takes a bit of strength,” he agreed. “I’ll help you.” He helped her grasp the center of the wood in one hand, and he nocked an arrow to the bowstring, guiding her fingers into position. “Hold it like this.”
As he helped her, his body was pressed close to hers. She could smell the scent of his skin, and his arms surrounded her as he guided her into position.
“Cormac, you’re trying to distract me,” she teased. “Which isn’t really necessary when you know you’re going to win this contest.”
“But I can’t be knowing that,a stór.If you set the arrow and aim it as you wish, once you let it loose, you could very well beat me.”
“I would be fortunate to even hit the target,” she said. But he helped her pull back the bowstring and aim the arrow.
