Page 24 of A Game of Hearts

“That will not be necessary.” Lord Limnwood’s voice was arctic. “As I said, Miss Everton nearly fell. I prevented an accident. Nothing more.”

Nothing more. The words struck Emma like physical blows. She stepped away from both of them, straightening her pelisse with hands that shook only slightly.

“Indeed,” she managed. “How fortunate that you were there to prevent disaster, my Lord. Though perhaps we should continue our hunt separately? Since if Lady Anne is to be believed, clearly we cannot be trusted to maintain proper behaviour when alone together, even out here, with many other couples around us, all able to see us.”

She saw him flinch at her tone, but she simply handed him the ribbons and notes that they had found so far, and turned away. He made no move to stop her as she walked, her back straight, her steps measured, making her way towards the house, dignity the only shield she had left. Behind her, she heard Lady Anne’s voice, honey-sweet with false concern.

“Such a shame when people forget their proper place, is it not? Though perhaps it’s for the best that such... tendencies are discovered early, before any lasting damage is done.”

Emma’s vision blurred with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She had been a fool to think that one kiss - one moment of perfect connection - could overcome Lord Limnwood’s rigid propriety. Worse, she had given Lady Anne exactly the weapon she needed to destroy any chance of understanding between them.

A rustle in the shrubbery beside her made her jump, but it was only Lord James, emerging from what appeared to be a deeply frustrating search for his own clues. Lady Beatrice was some distance away, also looking about in the bushes near a path.

“Miss Everton!” His smile faded as he saw her face. “What has my fool of a brother done now?”

“Nothing that was not entirely mutual, I assure you.” She managed a wan smile. “Though perhaps you might tell him that Lady Anne’s triumph need not be complete? I have no intention of spreading tales about his... lapse in judgment.”

Understanding dawned in Lord James’ eyes.

“Ah. She saw something, did she? That explains why she looked so pleased with herself when she passed me a moment ago.” He studied Emma’s face. “Though I suspect that what she saw was less a lapse in judgment than a moment of honest feeling?”

Emma’s breath caught.

“It hardly matters now.”

“Doesn’t it? Tell me, Miss Everton - do you truly believe my brother’s rigid propriety is his natural state? Or might it be armour against exactly this sort of situation?”

“I...” She hesitated. “Your brother made his position quite clear.”

“Did he? Or did he react exactly as he always does when threatened - by retreating behind his walls?” Lord James’ voice gentled. “Give him time. He may surprise you yet.”

Before Emma could respond, Lady Beatrice came hurrying up the path.

“Lord James! I’ve found the most peculiar clue... oh!” She stopped short at sight of Emma. “Dear heaven, what’s happened? You look quite pale!”

“The morning’s activities proved somewhat overwhelming,” Emma managed. “I believe I shall retire to my room for a while.”

“But the treasure hunt...”

“I fear Lord Limnwood will have to complete it alone.” Emma’s voice wavered slightly. “Though given his dedication to proper behaviour, I’m sure that he will manage admirably.”

She turned away before either could respond, but not before she caught the look that passed between them - concern from Beatrice, and something that might have been anger from Lord James. Let them think what they would. She had her own feelings to manage.

The house seemed very far away. Each step required all of her concentration, lest she give in to the urge to run, or worse, to turn back. To find him. To demand... what? That he choose her over propriety? That he risk scandal for love?

Love.

The word stopped her in her tracks.

When had this happened? How had she let herself fall in love with a man who valued society’s rules over the heart’s truth?

“Miss Everton?”

She looked up to find the Duke watching her with genuine concern.

“Your Grace.” She managed a curtsey. “I fear I’m not feeling quite the thing. Might I be excused from the remainder of the hunt?”

“Of course, my dear.” His keen eyes missed nothing. “Though perhaps you might permit an old man an observation?” She nodded, not trusting her voice. “The truly valuable treasures in life are rarely found by following maps and clues.” He smiled gently. “Sometimes one must simply trust one’s heart to lead the way.”