She brought her attention back to him, a slight grin pulling at the corner of her lips. “What an excellent idea.”
He led her nearer to the tarts as he said, “If we are to linger, we might as well enjoy a treat.” He reached for a cherry tart, then asked, “Which would you prefer?”
“I couldn’t.” Emma said as her stomach growled.
“Your stomach doesn’t lie.” Archer smiled in victory. “If you do not choose, then I will select one for you, and I vow it will be the least tasty flavor of them all.”
“You ought not to comment on such things. It isn’t proper. But since you noticed…” Emma sighed and moved closer to the table to study the offerings. Her choice made, she turned back to him. “May I have an apple one?”
“If it pleases you.” He reached out and plucked the treat from its spot, then handed it to her. After paying the woman behind the table, he led Emma to a raised area beneath a birch tree. He held his tart out to Emma and said, “Hold this.”
She arched a speculative brow but took the treat without argument.
Archer unbuttoned his jacket, then shrugging from the garment, said, “If we are to remain here for a while, we might as well be comfortable.” He shook the jacket out, then spread it on the ground beneath the tree’s shade.
His task completed, Archer took back his tart, then indicated the jacket. “Have a seat, my lady.”
For a few heartbeats, she only stared at him. A look of uncertainty trailed across her violet eyes, followed by something unreadable. Archer’s pulse speed as he thought she would refuse his offer, and then she lowered herself to sit on his jacket.
Archer gave a triumphant grin as he came to sit beside her. “Are you comfortable?”
“I am. Thank you,” she said, then looked out at the crush of people traversing the vendors’ tables. “I do hope we find them.”
He met her gaze as he searched for the right thing to say—something that would measure her. In the end, the best he could come up with was, “We will. Now eat your tart.”
Emma nodded, then brought the pastry to her lips before taking a delicate bite.
“That is all wrong,” Archer teased.
She narrowed her eyes as she chewed. After she swallowed the bite, she asked, “What is all wrong?”
“The way you bit that,” he said.
“Would you have me devour it in heaping mouth fulls like a wild beast?” She asked, humor and horror dancing in her gaze.
“It would be better than eating like a timid field mouse.” Archer lifted his tart until it was near his mouth, then said, “Let me show you how it is done.” He took a large bite, filling his mouth. Humor bubbled up in him as he watched her expression while he chewed.
Emma brought her tart back to her mouth, took a slightly larger bite, and then chewed and swallowed. She notched her chin, then said, “Better?”
He shook his head. “Scarcely. You have to bite into it with purpose. Do it like you mean it.” He took another demonstrative bite.
“Very well.” Mischief entered her eyes as she chopped down on the tart. A bit of the apple filling escaped the pastry and trailed down her chin. She rummaged in her reticule, searching for something, likely a handkerchief, then peered at him. “Now see what you’ve caused?” She asked, her tone lacking the vexation he saw in her peering gaze.
Archer reached out and wiped the filling from her ivory skin, then brought his finger to his lips and sucked it clean.
Warmth filled her gaze as she stared at him, her cheeks blooming pink.
Unable to help himself, Archer scooted closer to her. Cupping her hand, he brought the apple tart back to her lips and said, “It would seem I satisfied your hunger as your belly is no longer protesting.”
Emma swatted at him with her free hand. “Incorrigible rogue,” she said before bursting into laughter.
And Archer would have sworn it was the most beguiling thing he had ever witnessed. In fact, for the first time in his life, he could imagine himself settling down. He would relinquish his bachelorhood for her. Archer would marry Lady Emma Finch.
Chapter 5
The sun dropped low in the sky, casting shadows over the village as Archer walked with Lady Emma toward the place where the fire would soon be lit. The pair of them had traversed the entire village no less than three times. And all too little avail.
Regardless, he would not trade a second of the time they had spent together.
