“All the same, I am forever in your debt, Emily.”
His name on her lips filled her with longing, and she swallowed hard.
The silence stretched between them, filled with the unspoken realization that they had crossed a boundary, that something had shifted in the space between them. Emily, suddenly aware of the intimacy of their situation, gently withdrew her hand and smoothed the fabric of her skirts, seeking to regain her composure.
Nicolas, too, sensed the change in the air, though he was not inclined to retreat from it as she had. He cleared his throat, his gaze drifting to the window where the fading sunlight bathed the room in warm hues. “It seems we must both adjust to the rather unusual nature of our acquaintance,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
She allowed herself a smile in return, the tension between them easing slightly. “Indeed. Fate, it appears, has a peculiar way of bringing people together.”
Nicolas’s eyes sparkled with renewed energy as he leaned back against the pillows, his gaze never leaving hers. “You have been far too modest. It is clear to me that you are no ordinary woman, and I find myself wishing to know you better.”
She felt her heart skip at his praise, though she knew better than to fall for the flattery of a notorious rogue. “Mr. Winters,” she countered, her tone light but firm, “I assure you, I am quite ordinary. Merely a woman who could not, in good conscience, leave a man to suffer alone.”
He laughed, the sound low and rich, filling the room with a warmth that made her heart race. “Ah, but that is where you are wrong, dear lady,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “In a world filled with self-interest, your selflessness stands out like a beacon. You are quite extraordinary.”
Her breath hitched, caught off guard by the intensity of his perusal and the sincerity in his words. She had never thought of herself as anything remarkable, but in that moment, under his scrutiny, she wondered if perhaps there was more to her than she had ever allowed herself to believe.
As his words hung in the air, a shift occurred between them. The room, once filled with quiet formality, now pulsed with a new tension, one that neither could name but both felt deep in their bones. His gaze held a depth that spoke of vulnerability, of gratitude, and perhaps something more dangerous.
“I owe you a debt.” His hand moved to cover hers where it lay on her lap. His touch was gentle, but it sent a current of warmth through her that she could not ignore. “When you are ready, name your price. I assure you that you will have whatever it is you desire.”
Emily’s breath caught, her heart pounding as she met his gaze. “You owe me nothing,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
His fingers tightened around hers, his gaze searching hers with an intensity that made her feel as though he could see straight into her soul. “You saved my life, and for that, I owe you more than I can ever repay.” His gaze lingering on hers. “You have shown me a kindness I did not expect... and one I will not forget.”
The air between them thickened. Every breath she took felt more pronounced. His fingers, still resting against hers, were a reminder of just how fragile the line between duty and desire was. Emily had never imagined that caring for this man, a stranger in every sense of the word, would lead to this—a moment of connection so profound it left her breathless.
Six
Two days later, and unwilling to spend another day in bed, Nicolas had insisted on getting dressed and going down to breakfast rather than accepting the tray Willy had brought him. He was eager to dine with Emily as a friend rather than as her patient. A renewed vigor pulsed through him as he navigated the halls.
With a mischievous glint in his gaze, he made his way into the breakfast room. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth as the morning sun washed over the room. The comforting aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon wafted from the sideboard, making his mouth water.
Emily sat at the table, her chestnut hair falling in soft waves around her face. As he entered, she rose gracefully to her feet, hazel eyes filled with concern. “Mr. Winters, are you certain you should be out of bed? Please, allow me to assist you.” She moved toward him, hands outstretched.
He held up a hand, halting her progress. “I assure you, I am quite recovered. Your excellent care has worked wonders.” A flash of amusement passed through his gaze. “In fact, I believe I can manage procuring my own breakfast this morning. I would not want to impose upon your kindness any further.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “It is no imposition, I assure you. You are still recovering.”
“And I am deeply grateful for all you have done,” Nicolas said, his voice full of gratitude. “But I am eager to resume some semblance of normalcy. I long to be treated as a proper houseguest, rather than an invalid confined to his sickbed.”
A flicker of understanding crossed Emily’s face. She nodded, her gaze softening. “Very well, Mr. Winters. If you insist on fending for yourself, far be it from me to stand in your way.” Her tone was light, teasing even.
A rush of gratitude warmed him as he offered her a smile. He knew his pride demanded that he assert some independence, to prove to himself and to her that he was on the mend. Yet A part of him would miss her gentle ministrations—the soft touch of her hand, the quiet care she offered him with every gesture.
“Shall we break our fast together, then?” Nicolas asked, gesturing toward the table with a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, kippers, and bread in his hands. “I would be delighted to share a meal in your charming company.”
Emily inclined her head, a rosy hue coloring her cheeks. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Winters.”
“I prefer it when you call me Nicolas,” he said with a teasing arch of his brow. “After all, we are friends.”
She smiled. “Indeed we are, Nicolas.”
The sound of his name on her lips shot through him, stirring feelings he had not expected. After all, it was not the first time she had spoken it. Why did it affect him so throughly this time? He shook his head, clearing the thought as he moved toward the table.
They took their seats across from one another, the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. He felt a sense of contentment wash over him as he ate.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they partook of the delectable spread before them. Nicolas regaled Emily with tales of his mischievous exploits, his gaze sparkling with mirth as he recounted the pranks he and his friends had played over the years. Emily smiled more than she had in years, swept up in the easy banter and warmth of his company.
