If he believed she could fall asleep like this, then the man had gone mad. She wanted to turn toward him, to run her hands inside his shirt and feel the ridges of his muscles. Perhaps if she counted sheep, she might be able to ignore the heat of his skin against hers.
“Do not take advantage of me while I sleep,” she warned, closing her eyes.
“Don’t worry, Emily,” he said. His voice was like a swirl of cream upon chocolate. “If I take advantage of you, you’ll know it.”
Though his hands never moved, her nipple tightened into a hard bud.
One sheep. Two sheep. Sixteen sheep.
She grabbed a pillow and squeezed it hard. Her body craved him, but she refused to weaken.
Beside her, she heard his breathing grow deep and even. He held her close, her back pressed up against him.
It reminded her of the way he’d held her the first time he’d made love to her on their wedding night. Skin to skin, he’d treated her with such gentleness. Sadness pricked her eyelids, for he hadn’t loved her then.
And she didn’t know what he felt for her now.
Chapter Fifteen
Theyrodeoutthefollowing afternoon. Stephen was accustomed to riding, his body naturally adapting to the horse’s gait. Emily, in contrast, hung on to the reins with white knuckles. He suspected she hadn’t ridden a horse in years, and her backside would be sore later. And yet, he knew she’d die before complaining.
The village appeared upon the horizon, a pastoral scene of thatched cottages and wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys. A farmer driving a horse-drawn cart rumbled along the dirt road. When they reached the center of the village, wooden signs hung outside to mark the establishments. Stephen motioned for Emily to ride behind him as the streets grew narrower. They passed a tavern, a blacksmith’s, and a shoemaker’s before Emily called out for Stephen to halt.
He dismounted and put his arms around her waist to help her down. His hands lingered a moment, but she said nothing. Last night he had managed to sleep beside her without making love to her, though the effort had nearly been his undoing.
He was waiting for her to turn to him. He wanted her to desire him, to give their marriage a chance. But it had to be her choice.
She had blossomed here, comfortable as she’d never been in London. Perhaps she was right, and he should let her live at Falkirk.
Tethering their horses outside the shoemaker’s, he walked alongside her until they reached an apothecary shop. The spicy aroma of cinnamon and cardamom filled his nostrils as they entered. The owner, a stout man with long hanging jowls, set down his mortar and pestle at the sight of Emily.
“Why, Lady Whitmore,” he greeted her, “it is a surprise to see you.”
“Hello,” she responded, offering the man a bright smile. “Lord Whitmore, may I introduce you to Mr. Barmouth?”
The apothecary gave a slight bow. “My lord.”
Stephen greeted the man and added, “I hope you may be able to assist me in a small matter. I am looking for a man called Anant Paltu. He used to work in my wife’s household.”
“I am afraid Anant is not here at the moment,” Mr. Barmouth apologized. With a quick glance toward the back room of the shop, he shrugged. “I shall give him your message, however. Is there a place where he can find you?”
“I will be at Baron Hollingford’s estate in the next hour,” Stephen offered. “Or if he cannot meet me there, he may come to Falkirk.”
Emily’s expression sharpened when he mentioned Daniel’s house, but she thankfully said nothing. He hadn’t told her of his intent to search the property.
Mr. Barmouth promised to send the message on their behalf, and they departed. Once they were back outside, Emily accepted his assistance onto her horse. “Why do you want to visit Daniel’s estate? There is hardly anything left.”
“If your brother had any records relating toThe Lady Valiant, they would be at his house.”
“Unless someone found them first.”
“Which is what I intend to find out.” He handed her the reins.
Emily took them and sighed. “You’re right. We’ll go and see what we can find.”
“It could be dangerous,” he pointed out. “I think it’s better if I escort you back to Falkirk first.”
“You’re not leaving me behind, Whitmore. If there is someone dangerous there, one of us can ride for help.” She spurred her horse into a gallop, wincing at the jostling horse.
