Page 34 of A Game of Hearts

“No?” Her aunt’s eyebrow rose. “Then why do you look both guilty and delighted? No, don’t answer that. Just... be careful, my dear. Growing feelings are wonderful things, but they need time to be understood. And society is not always patient with such understanding.”

Emma sank onto the edge of her bed, suddenly overwhelmed by the morning’s events. The memory of Nathaniel’s kiss made her fingers tremble as she unpinned her hat. What was happening between them? How had simple attraction become something that made her heart race at just the thought of him?

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted softly.

“Do nothing, for now.” Lady Agatha rose. “Let your feelings settle. Let his show themselves for what they truly are. Time has a way of making things clear - or showing them to be mere passing fancies.”

But as her aunt left, Emma pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering their kiss. Whatever was growing between them, it felt like anything but a passing fancy.

She only hoped that she wasn’t being a fool to let her heart become so engaged before she was sure of his – but he had implied, had almost said….

A tap at the door made her start. Susan entered with a silver tray bearing a note. Emma’s hands trembled slightly as she recognised Lord Limnwood’s precise hand.

Miss Everton,

I trust that you are recovered from this morning’s excitement with Shadow. Please allow me to express my admiration for your excellent horsemanship, and my relief that no harm came to you. I find myself quite unable to concentrate on anything else until I am assured of your wellbeing.

Your most humble servant,

Limnwood

Emma pressed the note between her palms, feeling, somehow, that by touching it, she might absorb the proper phrases that somehow conveyed so much more than their surface meaning.

He had written nothing that could raise eyebrows if intercepted, yet she felt the concern - and something warmer - behind his words.

“Shall I help you change, Miss?”

Susan’s voice held careful neutrality, though Emma caught her quick assessment of her mistress’ flushed cheeks.

“Yes, though...” Emma hesitated. “Perhaps the blue muslin for breakfast? Since we’re to have botanical drawing in the conservatory later.”

“Very good, Miss.” Susan moved to the wardrobe, then paused. “Though... if you’ll pardon me saying so, perhaps the green would be more suitable? It being rather warmer in the conservatory?”

Emma caught her meaning - the green was more modest, less likely to draw attention when she was already the subject of speculation.

“Yes, you’re right. The green will do very well.”

As Susan helped her change, Emma’s mind wandered back to that moment in the clearing. The way he had looked at her, the kiss, the gentleness in his touch that had belied his usual rigid manner... what did it really mean? And more importantly, what did she want it to mean?

“Your hair’s come quite loose, Miss,” Susan observed, carefully removing pins. “Shall I put it up again, in a different style?”

Emma caught sight of herself in the mirror - windblown curls escaping their pins, cheeks still flushed, eyes bright with remembered emotion. No wonder Lady Agatha had looked concerned.

“Yes, please do,” she decided. “Though please hurry - I wouldn’t want to be late to breakfast.”

Being late would only fuel speculation. She would have to face them all - face him - with perfect composure, as if this morning had been nothing more than a minor adventure with a spirited horse. Yet she knew, with a certainty that thrilled and terrified her, that everything had changed. Not just because of their kiss, but because of the way he had looked at her then, as if seeing her properly for the first time.

“There now.” Susan stepped back, surveying her work. “No one would guess you’d had such an eventful morning.”

Emma smiled at her maid’s loyalty.

“Thank you, Susan. Though I fear Lady Anne’s imagination will supply whatever details she wishes, regardless of my appearance.”

“Let her imagine what she likes, Miss.” Susan’s chin lifted slightly. “Those who matter will know the truth.”

But that was just it, Emma thought as she made her final preparations to face the day. She wasn’t entirely sure what the truth was anymore. Only that her heart beat faster whenever he was near, that his touch made her forget everything proper, and that somehow, without quite meaning to, she had started down a path that might lead to joy or heartbreak - or possibly both.

Chapter Nine