Chapter 12

Emma slowly packed her valise, hating the tears coursing down her cheeks. She could not bear for Martha to see her like this, so Emma had excused her to attend the task herself. The day had been perfect. Their wild loving in the woods, their walk on the seaside, and even when he had hauled her over his shoulders and ran into the crashing waves with her. Dinner had been filled with longing gazes, and they retired to his study to sharpen her chess game again. Then when he had taken her into his arms, he had loved her slowly and with breathtaking intensity.

Everything felt right and perfect and beautiful. And that was how, upon waking, she had stayed in bed for several minutes, staring at the ceiling, knowing it was time to end whatever was happening between them.

A knock sounded on her door, and before she could answer, it opened, and the viscount strode in. How handsome he appeared. Emotions swelled inside her chest, and she swallowed them down.

"Martha has asked for the carriage to be readied. What is happening?"

Silence stretched between them to an excruciating level as they stared at each other. "I've decided to carry on to Penporth today. I would not have left without saying goodbye."

Something raw and frightening flared in his eyes before his expression shuttered. "Why do you leave?"

She smoothed a hand over the front of her day dress, jolting when thunder rumbled through the open windows. "I have been away from town for several days."

"You are believed to be in Penporth. That is not your reason. Do not lie to me, Emma."

Her heart was slamming uncomfortably hard against her ribs. How silly could she be to have fallen in love when it should have been merely indulging in a new and exciting experience? A sob hitched in her throat.

"Why do you appear on the verge of tears?" he rasped, coming closer.

She held up a hand, and he stopped as if he'd run into a wall.

"Emma?"

"Did you plan for…for this thing between us to be forever, David?"

"Of course not."

"Neither did I."

The silence stretched tautly.

He narrowed his eyes, searching her. "I did not think it would end so soon. We have always been open and honest with each other. Tell me honestly what is happening, Emma."

She lifted her chin. "I never meant to, but I am falling in love with you, David. Hopelessly so."

He jerked as if he had been slapped, then faltered into stillness.

"I must stop being with you before I slide too deep." She took a careful step toward him. "For so long, I felt empty and disenchanted with my life. I wanted ‘more.' That is what I said to my family, and that is what I kept thinking. I never knew the more I hunger for would be found in you…be found in loving you, David," Emma murmured, swiping away at the lone tear that spilled. "Ellie and Ester told me that loving someone…a gentleman, was a feeling that would sweep me away, but I scoffed at it, finding it romantic foolishness. Because I was ignorant. I was…aimless…then you came and…God, I cannot express the emotions that live within my chest, consuming me for you."

"I do not want you to be consumed," he snarled, something dangerous leaping inside his eyes. "Never that. I do not need that love, Emma. I will take comfort, friendship, companionship, and tupping. That is enough. Why in God's name is that not enough for anyone I cannot understand."

Pain cracked inside her chest, and she reared back from him. "I made no demands of you, David. You made none of me. Our affair, however brief it was, had been a mutual decision."

"Ending it is not," he snapped.

Emma stilled. "Does it have to be?"

His eyes closed as if she had struck him, and Emma's heart cracked further. She knew he would never understand it, for he was not a man who allowed himself to feel too deeply, but she had to protect herself. She could not allow her heart to be destroyed. It was already wounded through no fault of his, yet it was still irrevocably bruised. What if she allowed herself to keep falling deeper and deeper into him for naught? How could she love someone who would forever deny himself tender sentiments, thus denying her and the wonder they could have?

She went over to him, cupped his cheek, and kissed him softly. A shudder went through David, and he wrapped his arms around her. Emma hugged him, burying her face against his chest, hating those tears trembling on her eyelids. "David, I—"

"Marry me," he demanded gruffly.

Shocked, she snapped her head back to stare into his eyes. While they did not shine with love, they gleamed with fierce determination.

"Marry you?" she parroted.

"Yes. Be my viscountess."

Her throat worked, but no sound emerged. "Will you hide from loving me?" she finally asked. "Do you think you could eventually give me that part of you, David?"

Oh, please say yes, she silently cried.

Icy politeness settled on his face. "I believe you know better than to link marriage to sentimentality."

She pushed from his embrace, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear with shaking fingers. "I have given marrying little thought over the years because despite what my sisters, mother, the old dragon, and others touted, I did not believe I would find joy within its confines."

He canted his head, a frown flickering over his features. "Emma—"

"It is for that reason I have always known that should I take the plunge and marry, it would be because I found the greatest happiness and contentment within it. I have always been the kind of person who had to experience something to understand it, David. Always. Our housekeeper in Penporth once told me the iron was hot, but I had to touch it to understand. My brothers told me climbing a tree in the village square was dangerous, but I had to experience the dizzying heights myself. When I fell and hurt my leg, I had to experience that pain to understand the hurt and fear of acting too recklessly. No one could tell me of love and passion…I had to experience it myself to believe in it. And I did…I experienced everything with you and…I…I fell, David. Would I marry you…if you could love me, I would leap into your arms and stay there forever."

He stared at her, unmoving at her confession. An awful vulnerability tore through Emma's heart. The feelings crumpled in on her, and she turned away, fearing he might see the tears spilling over. Emma walked away and went downstairs, taking her time to bid the staff farewell. She went outside to wait for the carriage to be brought around. She could not bear to do so inside when there was nothing more there for her.

David stood rootedto the spot Emma had left him. How long had it been since she walked past him, her face a picture of heartbreak, her eyes glinting with tears? The sight had wounded him in a manner he had never thought possible. Had it been a few minutes? Or an hour? What was love? Was it this tearing sensation ripping him apart inside? Simply because her eyes had looked so hurt.

He thought of his mother and how she had wailed her grief at his father's death. A weakness assailed David, and he flinched from it. What if he should lose Emma? Would he feel an inkling of his mother's grief?

Yes.

Losing her would kill his soul. Fuck. Was this desperate, aching yearning to be with her always love? A knot of something loosened inside him as he simply accepted a truth he had been ignoring. God. He scrubbed a hand over his face, knowing the answer deep inside his bones. He, too, had fallen in love with Emma Fairbanks, and David damn well knew it because he could not imagine a day without her beside him. In truth, he might have known it from before they even kissed for the first time. Worse, he could not bear to see her eyes gleaming with that hurt. He knew pain to be an inevitable part of life, but he would prefer to only see happiness and laughter in those blue depths every day of her life. And if he could be the one to give it to her, it would be a privilege.

The squeak of the carriage wheels propelled him to the windows, and he watched as the carriage rumbled away from Benbow Hall. David spun around and raced down the stairs, almost breaking his damn neck. He did not want her to leave without knowing that he loved her and that he truly wanted to marry her because he could not do without her.

He dashed outside, staring at the back of the carriage. The sky chose that moment to open, and rain dumped on him.

"I am such a damn fool," he snarled and bellowed, "Hurry! Prepare my carriage. No, my stallion is faster! Hurry, man!"

He paced, ignoring that the rain wetted him, now realizing with painful insight what a damn fool he had been not to think about the emerging awareness growing in his heart with the same logical precision he usually conducted everything. The answer would have been glaring, and she would not have been hurt. "I am a damn fool," he hissed.

Thinking they were taking too long to ready his horse, he turned toward the stables.

"Why are you a damn fool?"

David jolted and whirled around. Emma stood there, the rain wetting her clothes and bonnet. "Bloody hell," he said, rushing to her, sweeping her into his arms, and hurrying out of the rain. He stopped under the portico, setting her down. He swiped some of the rivulets tracking down her cheek with trembling fingers.

"You did not leave with the carriage?"

She peered up at him with unfathomable eyes. "Why are you a fool?"

That soft question in this tone slayed him, for it held none of her usual beautiful vibrancy.

"Because I love you, and I should have known the full truth of it sooner and not allowed you to feel even a moment of pain," he said softly.

She closed her eyes tightly, then released her breath on a slow exhale. When her lashes fluttered open, her eyes glistened with tears. "I shall not allow you to take it back, David."

He cupped her cheeks. "I would never take it back. I love you desperately, Emma. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. Some love is strong enough to weather grief and pain. Once when I scoffed that love was weak, your brother…Nicholas once told me your mother loved your father wholeheartedly, and he died, leaving her with twelve children. She cried and raged, but she also stiffened her spine and knew she had to be there for her children. If she were childless…perhaps she would have chosen to follow him. I am not afraid of loving you too deeply, Emma. I am not afraid of being fucking consumed. We will love each other with everything we have to give and should one of us go first, we will survive it because our happiness in this life…is to know that each other is well and alive…so vividly alive and well."

She laughed and tossed her arms around his neck, squeezing until it hurt. He eased her slightly from him, then hugged her just as fiercely. They stood like that for a long time, the rain in the background, their hearts beating against each other.

"You did not leave," he said.

"I could not. I sent Martha ahead to Penporth. I had decided to return inside, blister your ears, and then fight for your love."

"Ah, God, woman, I love you."

"I love you too, David."

He kissed her, and with a sigh of happiness, she responded with sweet passion. "Will you marry me, Emma," he said against her mouth.

"Yes," she said, smiling. "But I do not wish to spend a day without you. Let's run away to Scotland and do it."

David laughed, gathering her into his arms and walking inside, knowing he would give her whatever she wished.