Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Three days later, Emmeline joined the Darcys for dinner. She was enjoying a glass of sherry in the drawing room when the butler entered to announce the other guest for the evening. Her face fell as Lord Marbury walked in, looking…rather handsome, actually. The rich, bottle green of his coat set off his eyes, and his hair curled charmingly around his face. His buckskin breeches clung to thighs that she now knew were strong and muscular. She pushed that thought right out of her head. She was supposed to be cross with him, not replaying the memory of his hands cupping her?—

"Miss Appledore. A pleasure to see you," he said, bowing over her hand. She nodded cooly at him, sliding a glare over to Elizabeth, who innocently sipped her sherry. There was a long, painfully awkward silence before Darcy offered his hand to Elizabeth.

"My dear, would you care to take some air with me out on the terrace?"

"That sounds lovely. Do excuse us." She gave Emmeline a speaking look, jerking her head toward Marbury. Emmy sighed. Clearly, this dinner had been set up so she and Marbury could talk. That's what she got for confiding to the Darcys that she'd been refusing to see him .

They were suddenly alone in the room, Marbury standing uneasily in front of her. She rose and went to refill her glass, even though it was only half empty. She just needed to put some distance between them.

"I'm sorry for the subterfuge, but you were refusing to see me."

Emmeline whirled on him. "I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke."

"You didn't exactly give me a chance to explain. Emmeline, please. I know I should have told you, but it was so magical, and I didn't want to ruin it with the truth. Because what you said about a lifetime of boredom…that scares me."

"It…scares you? What do you mean?"

He sauntered over to her, removing the glass from her hand and placing it on the table beside her. "I am a quiet man. I don't do well in social situations, talking with strangers and charming the ladies. I have spent my life…being invisible. And one of my fears is that people perceive me as boring and staid. I am anything but. I like adventure, I have hobbies. I am a good person. But I don't present well, so to speak, and so I've had a hard time finding someone to share my life with. Until I met you." He took her hands in his. "You told a shy, awkward man that he had nothing to fear with you. That he needn't be anyone but himself. I can't even begin to tell you what those words meant, especially because I believed them. I am comfortable with you, Emmeline. You make me brave and self-assured. Do you notice how I'm not stumbling over my words now? I feel a connection to you that I have never felt in my life with anyone else. I do not want to lose you."

Emmy pulled her hands from his and moved away, tears clogging her throat. "But what you must think of me after how I behaved…"

"I think you are someone who has been starved for what she's wanted for a long time, just as I have been. Adventure. Freedom. Passion. There is nothing wrong with wanting to experience any of those things. I would be a terrible hypocrite to judge you for daring to act on your desires. "

"With someone I don't even know?"

"But I think you did know me."

"What on earth do you mean? I didn't recognize you at all."

"Didn't you? Did your body not respond to me when we spoke in the ballroom? Did you not feel the same pull I felt? You could have chosen anyone in that room, but you chose me. Why?"

Emmy hesitated, thinking on her answer. "Because I felt safe with you. I trusted you." She crossed her arms over her chest. "But then you lied. Why didn't you just tell me?"

Nicholas took a deep breath. "Because I was afraid that if I told you who I was, you would be disappointed."

Emmy stared at him, her mouth falling slightly open. "How could you think I'd be disappointed?"

Nicholas gave her a rueful smile. "Come now, Emmeline. You yourself told me you thought I was boring. How could I reveal myself after that? You would have laughed in my face. No, you wanted your Greek god, and I wanted to give him to you. In that moment, I wanted to be the self-assured, passionate rake you were expecting, and the costume and the mask helped me achieve that. As Eros, I said the right words and didn't stumble once. It was a relief to be someone else for a while, to play that part, and I didn't want to ruin the moment for either one of us."

For the first time, Emmy began to understand how insecure he was, how in need he was of someone to love him for himself, not who they thought he should be. Hadn't she donned a costume to use the cloak of anonymity for herself? So she could be braver and bolder than she was in her everyday life? She realized now her anger had been born more of embarrassment than anything else. She'd behaved wantonly and been caught at it, and that was mortifying. But her behavior was not his fault, and he was right. If he had revealed himself, she would not have gone through with it. She would have been the perfect soul of propriety she thought he'd want her to be. Instead, he seemed to embrace her passion.

"I…I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll still marry me so we can have adventures together." He approached her slowly, and her breath caught in her throat when he snaked his arm around her waist and brought her flush against him. "Whatever those adventures may be," he said silkily.

The air in the room seemed suddenly hot. She was looking forward to more adventures. "I will marry you, but first I must ask you, Lord Marbury, to kiss me. As yourself."

He smiled at her. No, perhaps he was not the most handsome man in England, but he was warm and genuine, and he sent shivers down her spine for all the right reasons. They would do well together, she was sure of it.

He brought his palm up to her face and kissed her gently. He trailed his lips over to her ear and whispered, "Nicholas," before nipping her earlobe.

"Nicholas," she said breathlessly. "Please kiss me, Nicholas."

"Oh, I want to do so much more than that," he growled, claiming her lips in a searing kiss. She clung to him as he grabbed her derriere and ground his hips against her. She moaned into his mouth, and he chuckled, breaking their kiss. "Just a promise of what's to come, sprite."

"My goodness. Who knew you harbored such primal urges under your polished exterior," she teased.

"I told you," he said, caressing her upturned face. "Sometimes it's the quietest souls who harbor the most passionate hearts."

And he kissed her again, just to prove it.