Lord Linley merely shook his head as he took her hand and led her further down the village green. “Perhaps they are watching the Morris dancers?” He suggested.
She ignored the tingling sensation that his touch elicited and the warmth passing between their clasped hands as she walked beside him. Emma said, “Or searching for me somewhere along the way.”
“I am certain they are.” He shot her a warm smile. “Don’t fret. They can’t have gotten far.”
“I suppose not,” Emma agreed, her gaze continually searching as they made their way through clusters of men and women. All around her, people danced, drank, and sung. Children darted in and out of every nook and cranny they passed. Everywhere Emma looked, she found garlands, ribbons, and flowers.
Her heart hitched, and for the first time in her life, she wanted to be a part of the celebration. Lady Emma Finch, the wallflower, wanted to dance, laugh, and sing along with the rest of the crowd. She wanted to enjoy her time with Lord Linley.
Emma had a strong desire to be carefree. To embrace adventure and have as much fun as she could.
More than anything, Emma wished to enjoy her time with Lord Linley. It was a startling realization, to be sure, but it did not stop her desire to do so. She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips.
As they approached a group of musicians, Emma released Lord Linley’s hand. She smiled at him, then danced, her feet moving in time to the music. A heartbeat later, he joined her.
Emma allowed herself to embrace every second as Lord Linley led her through the dance, twirling and guiding her to the music. Her pulse sped as exhilaration filled her.
When it ended, he twirled her one last time and brought her tight against his hard chest. “So you are capable of enjoying yourself,” he said, his gaze locked on hers.
She could not stop herself. Emma threw her head back and laughed with abandon. Never had she felt so free. So wild.
The musicians struck up a new tune, and Emma’s heart soared with joy as Lord Linley twirled her about once more. She relished the feel of his hands in hers. Treasured the moments when her hands were on his shoulders and his on her waist.
Every touch, every laugh, every unfamiliar sensation invigorated her further. She inhaled his scent of sandalwood and pressed closer to him. Long after this dance ended, she would hold the memories close to her heart.
As reluctant as Emma was to move on, the music stopped, and she had to find her friends. She pulled Lord Linley away from the dancers. “We must continue on our way,” she urged.
He nodded, the golden strands in his light-brown hair catching the sun. “Perhaps we shall have a spot of fun once we reach the Morris dancers?”
“I should like that, very much,” Emma said. And though she knew she needed to find her friends, part of her prayed she did not.
Leastwise, not so soon. She’d need to find them before nightfall, but she’d like more than anything to spend another hour or so in lord Linley’s care first.
Heaven help her, indeed!
Chapter 4
“Have an ale. Get your fresh ale here.” A rotund man called out to the crowd.
Another vendor selling woman’s trinkets yelled, “Silk ribbons for your missis.”
Every vendor they passed had a table full of wares and did their best to capture the patronage of the revilers nearby. They sold everything from food and drink to ribbons and flowers. Archer’s stomach growled at the sweet and savory aromas filling the air.
He held fast to Emma’s hand as he led her through the row of vendors selling their wares and treats. Considering that late hour, he suspected Emma may be in need of sustenance, and Archer was famished. He slowed their pace and turned to her. “Are you hungry?” He asked, his gaze meeting hers.
Emma shook her head. “No,” she said, then glanced with longing at a table laden with various tarts. The gray-haired woman behind the table gave a friendly smile, then called out, “I have the best tarts in town. Come, try one. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“She says they are the best to be had.” Archer gave a slight tug on Emma’s hand. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to try one? I will buy you whichever you’d like. Two or three if it pleases you.”
Emma laughed through tight lips.
“Come on,” he urged her to move closer to the table.
Emma dug in her heels. “It isn’t necessary, truly. I do not need one.”
Archer would never understand why women pretended not to be hungry. He thought it one of society’s cruelest tricks that they taught women to eat like birds. And to what end? It made no sense at all.
He studied Emma’s oval face from the longing in her gaze to her slightly parted lips as he said, “The hour is growing late. I would wager most people with stomachs are hunting for something to eat. Perhaps we should linger here for a bit to see if your party comes seeking nourishment?”
