“I just want you to be happy,” her mother whispered.
Emily reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I already am.”
“If that is true, then I am happy for you.” Her mother’s lips stretched, attempting a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Bowing her head as if to hide her real thoughts on the matter, she retreated to the kitchen.
Emily looked at Griffin, still standing there in the library doorway, a silent spectator to her humiliation. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. Your mother is just trying to do what she believes to be best for you.” His brow puckered slightly. “You should not be so hard on her, Emily.”
“But—”
“I need to get back to the painting if I am to finish before we leave for Montvale.”
He turned away and disappeared back into the library. One second later, the door closed behind him, leaving Emily standing alone in the empty hallway. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she sensed that she’d somehow managed to ruin things between them. Why else would his comment make her feel so small? Why else would watching him walk away leave her empty inside and more lonely than ever before?
There was no mistaking Emily. She’d very clearly pronounced that she had no intention of marrying anyone. Ever. Griffin speared his hair with his fingers and tried to stay calm.
Not an easy task when he wanted to overturn furniture and punch holes in things. What the hell? He would have bet money that the kiss they’d shared last night would have changed her mind. It had certainly stripped away any doubts he might have had and put everything into very sharp focus. In fact, the more he’d considered it, the more certain he’d been that asking Emily to be his wife was the best way forward. Until she’d snatched away any hope he’d had of her saying yes.
Damn!
A raw ache pulled at his gut—the fear of losing what he now wanted the most. Her.
He wanted her in his bed, as passionate and eager as she’d been last night. His muscles flexed in response to the image forming in his head, of creamy curves sprawled out on satiny sheets and a coy smile inviting him closer.
Reaching out, he steadied himself against a bookcase while trying to catch his breath. What the devil had Emily Howard done to him?
The answer shot through him with simple precision. She’d been unpretentious and bold, courageously honest, principled and...wonderfully different. She spoke her mind without being dismissive, was modest, good natured, and optimistically inclined. And when she met his gaze with a smile, it was as if she wrapped her arms around his soul and gave it warmth.
Which was a perfectly ludicrous notion, of course.
In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was losing his mind.
He closed his eyes on a sigh, pushing the tension out of his lungs. Two weeks ago his aversion to marriage had been indisputable. He’d deliberately avoided the unmarried ladies, had taken care not to give the wrong impression about his availability. And now, ironically, he was the one who was eager to put a ring on his finger while the woman he’d set his sights on had decided that marrying was no longer something she wished to accomplish.
And yet...
He dropped his gaze to the spot on the table where her notebook had been just a half hour earlier. The writing had been charming and witty, but most especially romantic. It wasn’t what one would expect from a woman who’d turned her back on marriage, but rather from one who still dreamed.
The personal touches were further indications of this, like the daffodils and peonies, the country manor and the cooking. Griffin wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Emily’s ideal life included three children and a cocker spaniel as well.
He smiled, liking that thought. And then he frowned. Because if marriage was something she actually wanted, then why did she keep on insisting it wasn’t? Griffin wasn’t sure he could answer that question correctly. All he knew was that Emily was free to make her own choices and that he had given her no cause to think that marrying him might be an option. Even though he’d kissed her.
Hell, she believed he had every intention of leaving England at the first available opportunity. Which had been his plan. Until his life had been turned upside down.
He shook his head, befuddled by the depth of emotion she’d managed to awake in him. Joy and anxiety fizzed through his veins. He had to do what he’d meant to do earlier when the messenger’s arrival had stopped him from revealing the yearnings of his heart. He had to find the opportunity to tell her how much she’d come to mean to him. It was the only way forward and the best chance they had of forming a permanent attachment.
Through honesty.
13
They arrivedat Montvaletwo days later. The journey had been uneventful. Emily had tried to sleep most of the way, or had at least pretended to do so for the sake of avoiding Griffin’s attention. Since their conversation in the library, he’d been trying to get her alone, insisting that there was something they needed to discuss.
Emily could only imagine. The poor man obviously felt obliged to offer for her hand after the passionate kiss they’d shared. She could see it in his almost pained expression whenever he looked at her. But she would not let him make such an unnecessary sacrifice. Especially not when she feared she might actually accept his proposal. And then where would they be? He would be forced into the very state he wanted to avoid while she’d have a husband who would never reciprocate her love.
It would be an intolerable arrangement.
So each time he tried to pull her aside, she avoided him under the pretext of needing to complete a chore or having to pack. By the time he’d helped her into the carriage yesterday morning, he’d been scowling at her. And of course, for some absurd reason, this had only increased her awareness of him. Even as she’d turned her head into her corner of the carriage and closed her eyes in an effort to sleep, she’d felt his presence all around. His voice, as he conversed with her mother, had slid over every curve of her body like intimate caresses impossible to ignore.
