Page 26 of A Game of Hearts

“Aren’t you? Then why deny what happened? Why not simply say that yes, you kissed her, and that anyone who objects can go hang?”

“Because that’s not how society works! There are rules...”

“Rules that matter more than her heart? Than yours?” James shook his head. “You know, for all your fear of Emma being like Charlotte, you’re the one behaving exactly as our cousin did – until you helped her see the truth of a man who truly loved her. You are letting fear of scandal override truth and love.”

Nathaniel staggered as if struck.

“That’s not...”

“Isn’t it? Charlotte let fear of an arranged marriage drive her into the arms of a fortune hunter. You’re letting it drive you away from the woman you love.” James’ voice gentled slightly. “Though I will say one thing for you - at least you managed to threaten Lady Anne properly. I heard that part.”

“You were listening?”

“Of course I was listening. Someone had to make sure that you didn’t make an even bigger cake of yourself.” James clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, what do you intend to do about the mess you’ve made?”

Nathaniel stared up at the house, where he could just see Emma’s figure disappearing inside.

“I don’t know.” His voice roughened. “But I do know that I cannot lose her. Not like this.”

“Well, that’s a start.” James smiled slightly. “Though you might want to work out the rest before dinner. I suspect that facing her across the table while pretending that nothing happened will be rather uncomfortable.”

Nathaniel’s hands clenched as he remembered how she had felt in his arms, the softness of her mouth under his, the way that she had trusted him completely in that moment before Lady Anne’s intrusion.

He had betrayed that trust. Somehow, he had to find a way to earn it back.

The only question was whether she would give him the chance.

*****

Emma had managed to claim a megrim, and avoid the afternoon’s flower arranging activity, but Beatrice had come to see her in her room in the break while everyone was dressing for dinner, concern filling her face.

“Emma! Are you recovered at all? You do still look pale. And you must tell me what really happened this morning. Lord Limnwood dutifully found all of the treasures that were marked for you, and he even finished faster than any of the other couples!”

Emma shook her head.

How absolutely typical that Lord Limnwood’s response to that devastating moment when Lady Anne had come upon them was to be perfectly proper and complete the task at hand. But then a thought came to her, and despite herself, she gave Beatrice a conspiratorial smile.

“Perhaps I’ll tell you – but later. First, you must tell me about the flower arranging tasks – How skilled did Lord Limnwood turnout to be, with flowers?”

Beatrice laughed, shaking her head.

“Sadly, the flower arranging has been postponed to tomorrow afternoon – although I think that Lord Limnwood was rather relieved at that – I suspect that he was dreading such a task without your assistance. And certainly, if we had continued he would have had to face dealing with Lady Anne, whilst she interfered and annoyed him at every chance she got. I can’t imagine that it would have gone any other way.”

“Oh my! The poor man, I can imagine his dread. No one deserves the ‘delights’ of Lady Anne’s attentions…”

Chapter Seven

Emma sat at her dressing table, watching as Susan arranged her hair for the evening’s card party. She had pleaded that her head still hurt, hoping to avoid dinner, which she did, but Lady Agatha had been firm about her attendance at tonight’s entertainment afterwards.

“Hiding only gives credence to gossip, my dear,” her aunt had said, with a shrewd look that suggested that she knew exactly why Emma wished to hide.

“The blue ribbon, I think,” Emma said, more to distract herself than from any real interest. But when Susan wove it through her dark red curls, she had to admit that the effect was striking. It was the same deep blue as the ribbons from their morning’s truncated treasure hunt...

She closed her eyes against the memory of his hands at her waist, his mouth on hers, the way that everything had seemed so perfect for that one breathtaking moment, before it all fell apart.

“There now, Miss.” Susan stepped back. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you.”