He slid an arm around her waist, pressing her against the tree bark. “There are better ways you can repay me.”
Her expression grew strained, and he corrected himself. “I meant with a kiss, Emily. Nothing more.”
She shivered a little, leaning forward to brush a light kiss against his lips. It wasn’t nearly enough, and he took her mouth deeper, nipping at her lips, his tongue sliding inside.
“I’m going to lose my balance if you keep kissing me,” she whispered, breaking away. He let her go, wondering how to broach the subject of marriage. He’d never proposed to a woman before, and there was no way of knowing whether she would agree to his suggested arrangement. Emily was the least predictable woman he’d ever met.
They sat together in the tree while a light dusting of snow drifted from the clouds. It coated her cloak, melting upon her nose. She reached up to touch his cheek. “Something is bothering you, Whitmore. Does it have to do with why you’re avoiding me?”
“I avoided you to keep from seducing you again.” He hadn't been able to drive her from his mind, and so many nights he'd awakened with a painful arousal, wishing he could be with Emily.
Her eyes widened slightly, and her cheeks colored. “Well. That was honest.”
“I didn’t think you would appreciate it if I had my way with you on top of the dining room table.”
A laugh escaped her. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He only smiled at her. “Wouldn’t I?”
Emily picked up a handful of snow from the tree branch, crunching it into a ball. She tossed the snowball in one palm. “Daniel isn’t going to come for me, is he? I assume you haven’t heard from him.”
“No.”
“So now what will become of me? Shall I return to Hollingford House?”
“I’d burn it to the ground before I’d let you go back there.”
She crumbled up the snowball, letting it sift through her fingers to the ground. “Am I to become your mistress, then?”
“No.” Stephen reached into his pocket and pulled out his grandmother’s ring. “I was thinking you could become my wife.”
Had she really agreed to this? After days riding in a coach to Scotland, she was about to get married. Emily stared down at the heavy ruby ring Stephen had given her, her heart sinking. Though she’d dreamed of this day for all of her life, her instincts warned her that the earl had other reasons for wedding her. Reasons that had nothing to do with love.
She could tell, from the way he’d spoken of the marriage like a business arrangement. Although there was no doubt he desired her, she didn’t know if it would be enough. Everything had happened so fast. She hadn’t even had time to purchase a new gown but had borrowed another one from his sister’s wardrobe.
“The blacksmith will carry out the ceremony,” he explained, leading her toward the smith’s shop, “but I’ve also bestowed a goodly sum for the magistrate to register the marriage.”
Such measures would ensure a fully legal marriage. But why then, was she feeling so uncertain? With each step she took, her fears multiplied. And when they stood before the Scottish blacksmith at last, her trepidation transformed into wild fear.
If she married the Earl of Whitmore, she would become a countess. It was easy to hide away as Baron Hollingford’s forgotten sister. She had no social duties, and hardly anyone knew of her existence. But by becoming Stephen’s wife, everyone would have an opinion about her. And not a single one would be complimentary.
“Wait.” She gripped his sleeve. “We need to talk first.”
The expression on his face was less than pleased. “Now?”
“Yes, now.”Before it’s too late, she thought desperately.
He seemed to sense her panic, for he excused them from the blacksmith and took her into the stables for privacy. Though it was dark inside, she didn’t miss his displeasure. “Have you changed your mind after we’ve come this far?”
She couldn’t give him an answer. While her heart was irrevocably lost, her head was ordering her to do the right thing and let him go.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can’t marry you.”
“Why?” The question was clipped, a wellspring of anger contained in a single word.
Because you don’t love me. Because you’re holding my heart in your hands, and I’m afraid you’ll break it again.
“Because I’ll never be a fitting countess. There’s nothing but scandal surrounding me. And I care about you too much to bring that shame upon you.” She drew off the ring and pressed it into his hand, her eyes blurred with tears. “I should have told you before we left England. But I wanted so badly to marry you. It was what I dreamed of, more than anything.”
