“What do you mean?”
Lady Flora’s brow furrowed, as if she were searching for a way to explain it that Samuel would understand. “Just this, my lord. I didn’tonlyconsider Lovell’s happiness when I chose to forgive him. I also considered my own, just as you must have done. Withholding our forgiveness would have meant giving up Lovell forever. Neither of us ever wanted that.”
No, Samuel had never wanted that. Losing his cousin wouldbe unbearable.
Nearly as unbearableas losing Emma.
Samuel stared down at Lady Flora, stunned. “I, ah…never thought of it that way.”
“I don’t know that forgivenessisdivine.” Lady Flora cocked her head, considering it. “But the love that compels it, Lord Lymington, does transcend the ordinary. Perhaps that’s what Mr. Pope meant, for love without forgiveness isn’t much of a loveat all, is it?”
Samuel swallowed.“No. It isn’t.”
The dance ended then, and he delivered Lady Flora to a beaming Lovell, who watched her approach as if he were watching a glorious sunrise, and couldn’t tearhis gaze away.
Lord Dunn had claimed Emma for supper, so Samuel took his mother’s arm instead, but he passed the rest of the evening in a daze.
The guests making the return trip to London that night took their leave soon after the supper ended, but the rest of the company—their neighbors, and those staying at Lymington House—danced into the early hoursof the morning.
Throughout the entire evening, Emma never faltered. She flirted and laughed and sipped champagne, but all the while, she was watching, her gaze flitting from one smiling lord to the next, searching for the one who wore the masque.
And all the while, Samuel was watchingher, his heartin his throat.
When she came to him at last, she looked as if she were ready to collapse with exhaustion. “I’d like to retire to my bedchamber now, Lord Lymington.”
Samuel gazed at her pale face, into the blue eyes that had bewitched him from the start, and thought of a love so powerful it transcended the ordinary, andbecame divine.
Then he took her hand, and led herup the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-one
The corridor outside Emma’s bedchamber was dark, the household already on its way to a blissful slumber, but there would be no sleep forSamuel tonight.
Lady Flora’s words were running like a fevered dream through his mind.
Love without forgiveness isn’t much ofa love at all.…
Emma paused outside her door, and turned to face him. “Thank you for your escort, Lord Lymington. Good night.”
He could take her into his arms, or he could return to his own rooms alone and chase the dreamless sleep that had eluded him for weeks, a sleep that would never come tonight. He could pretend he didn’t want her, and leave her untouched, or he could wait outside her bedchamber door until morning, to ensure no harm came to her.
While he wrestled with himself, Emma slipped quietly away, leaving him alone in the hallway, lost in an agony of indecision. He lingered for a long time after she’d gone, his forehead resting against her door and an ache in his chest, knowing he’d made thewrong choice.
He should have taken herinto his arms.
Emma was all that mattered, all that had ever mattered. She’d lied to him, yes—about her name, and her past—but somehow, even amidst the lies she’d had to tell, she’d never told him a single lie about whattruly mattered.
She’d never been anyone other than herself. Not withhim.
Samuel raised his hand to tap on her door, but then lowered it again, sudden doubt overwhelming him. This was madness. She wouldn’t open her door to him.Why should she?
Yet as mad as it was, he couldn’t make himself leave until he’dseen her again.
He raised his hand a second time, but before his knuckles touched the wood there was a soft click, and the door opened. Emma stood on the other side, clad in a white night rail, her hair in a loose plait draped over one ofher shoulders.
They stared at each other, neither of them speaking, until at last Emma drew in a trembling breath and asked, “Is there something wrong, my lord?”
Her words were soft, more breath than sound, and Samuel wondered if he was imagining the tremor in her voice, the uncertain smile gracing the red lips he’d dreamed about every night since he’d first kissed them, weeks ago.
