“What did she tell you?”
She drew in a deep breath. “That you fought with Sir Archibald over…over me.” His face twitched, and in that moment she saw the truth. She would not have been more shocked if the man had started singing and dancing right there on the path. “Youdid?”
James nodded. “He said something very untoward. And I admonished him for it.” His tone was dark and dangerous, and once again it hit her in the most inappropriate places.
“Something untoward about me?” she gasped. “He doesn’t know about—”
“No!” James said. “Not about us. He just made some implications about his intentions toward you that I didn’t care for.”
She shivered, for she could well-imagine what Sir Archibald had in mind. He had always spent a great deal of time staring at her chest, and whenever he touched her, it was like a snake curling around her skin. But still…
“You grabbed him, you pushed him, you sent him away,” she stammered. “James, you…you made a scene.”
“He deserved far worse than I did to him,” he said. “But how did your mother know?”
She shrugged. “I have no clue. Someone overheard you, perhaps, or Archibald talked before he fled your house. What matters is that people are going to be talking about this. It is too good a story not to repeat.”
“You seem troubled by this,” he said, his brow wrinkling. “Why?”
“Aside from the fact you nearly came to blows over me? I am troubled because it casts too big a shadow on me.”
“No, it puts focus on you, which wasexactlyour plan from the beginning,” he said, but his tone was falsely bright.
She pulled away from him at last with more reluctance than she should have had and folded her arms. “If this is exactly what you intended when we began, then why do you sound tense, why is there concern in your eyes?”
His brow wrinkled and he stared at her. “I-I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, and the negative emotions wiped from his face at last.
She shook her head. “You can’t pretend it away, James. This obviously concerns you as much as it concerns me. While I appreciate this protectiveness you are displaying, I feel it is better that I just know the worst of it so I can be prepared.”
“You see too much,” he muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. “Emma, I’m not concerned about Archibald. He’s an idiot and the gossip about his leaving will fade long before it does any permanent damage, especially if we choose not to address it so as not to feed it.” He let out a short sigh. “There is…something else, though. And you’re right, you should know about it.”
Her heart began to throb as she stared at him, trying to read whatever was on his mind before he said it. Failing even as she came up with horrible scenario after horrible scenario.
“What is it?” she asked, barely above a breath.
“Margaret knows about our ruse,” he said softly.
Emma staggered and he lunged forward to catch her arm, steadying her. She looked up at him, too close, too handsome, too perfect, and she could hardly recall how to breathe, let alone speak. He waited patiently, not trying to force her, not trying to fill the space between them with words.
“She knows we’re pretending a courtship?” Emma asked. He nodded once, and she let out a tiny, strangled cry. “Thatwas why she looked at me so strangely. I thought it was my mother, what my mother said, but it was this. How does she know?”
He released her at last and motioned down the path. “We should walk so we aren’t too far behind the others,” he suggested.
She thought about fighting him a moment, but decided against it. He was correct, after all. Arriving together too far behind the others would open them up to impertinent remarks and even more encouragement about compromise from her mother.
They stepped forward together and Emma said, “Tell me, please.”
He bent his head. “Itold her, Emma.”
She jerked her face toward his and found him looking at her. She swallowed hard, choking back the sense of betrayal his confession created in her chest. He couldn’t betray her. They were nothing to each other, despite the kissing. She had to remember that.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why did you tell her?”
He was silent a long beat. “I have this huge group of very good friends,” he said. “But the person who knows and loves me most is Meg. We are the only two who fully understand our…past. Our situation with our parents. I do not lie to her, not when I can help it. Nor does she hide things from me. She came to me, thrilled as could be about the idea that you and I were courting. I could not mislead her and let her be hurt in the end. So I admitted our ruse.”
Emma wanted desperately to be angry at him for doing it, but she found she wasn’t. Not when he explained himself in such a way. How often had she longed for someone to share things with like he described? She had no one as a confidante. In some ways, she was jealous rather than angry.
“I…understand,” she whispered at last. “And I know it is for the best. I also wouldn’t want to hurt Meg. I just wish…”
