Chapter Thirty-Two

Emma stared at the letter on her vanity like it might fall apart if she touched it. Nick had brought it last night when he'd joined the family for dinner, slipping it to her in secret and reminding her that she couldn't allow anyone to see it. Particularly because she had never met the man who wrote it, she was putting herself in far more danger than Catherine had in writing to Elias, which was bad enough.

Her cousin had come to London with Grandfather, and in the brief moments they had had a chance to talk, he had made it quite clear that he intended to court Miss Barton under the watchful gaze of Alvaro as her temporary protector. He told Emma that he had already written to Mr. Barton to express his intentions, and he and Catherine had hardly left each other's sides since his arrival.

Emma hadn't even noticed them connecting in Tutbury; she had been so completely focused on Nick and their feud.

She was still focused on Nick, but her heart felt torn in two now that she had tangible evidence of the mysterious suitor. This letter was everything she could have wanted and more, and yet a part of her wished he hadn't written so eloquently.

A part of her wished Nick had written it.

If she was being honest with herself, she hadn't fully discounted the idea that Nick himself was the mysterious suitor. Though she didn't know why he would play such a game, it wouldn't surprise her to learn that he was the man behind such beautiful words. Alvaro had said Nick was fond of writing letters, but what would Nick's motive be in concocting such a scheme?

She picked up the letter, reading again the lines that had her so torn.

To the lovely and illustrious Emma,

May I call you Emma? I know this situation is hardly conventional, and should this letter fall into the wrong hands, it could lead to your downfall, so using your name is dangerous. That is a lot of trust to put into someone, and I am honored that you would trust me without knowing my name. But to call you anything other than what you are feels as if I am trying to change something about you, which is far from my intention.

As I understand it, you are in need of a husband in order to receive an inheritance. Rest assured, no matter the outcome, I will be discrete and tell no one of your circumstances. Ladies already have little enough freedom, and I have no desire to make things worse for you. As it so happens, I am in need of a wife, though I have nothing to add to your impending fortune. In the spirit of honesty, I have little to my name beyond what I carry in my mind and my heart. I would be relying entirely on your good fortune should we make a match of things. I am not opposed to laboring for my bread, though I admit I have not always been so humble, and you would be required to teach me how to care for an estate, as I have little knowledge of such things. From my understanding, you are more than capable, so I have no fear in that regard. I only wish you to know the full scope of what you would be getting into.

I suppose you would like to know more about me. I can say but little about myself, as there is little to say to begin with, but I was raised by wonderful parents who taught me to value love and partnership above all else in a marriage. I have only ever wanted the same for myself. A husband and wife should be equal, even if most of the world may not agree. I have seen enough happy marriages to know such a life is possible, and therefore I refuse to settle for anything less. Of course, no marriage can be perfect, but from what little I know about you, I fully believe we could come close. Forgive me for such a presumption, but I've been told you are rather pressed for time. You may not agree that we are complements after you meet me, but I am choosing an optimistic approach. If you allow me the honor of assisting you in your future endeavors, I will do everything in my power to see that you have the life you have always dreamed of, however that may look.

To aid in your decision, as I am unable to do more than write to you at present, I offer a list of things I do not especially enjoy: cold weather, too much talking when one is reading, dogs, men who treat women as possessions, boiled turnips, and spending too much time on my own. In contrast, here are a few things I adore: the sun on my face, enjoying a riveting book (or several), cats, women with strong minds, roasted goose, and laughing with a good friend.

As I do not wish to overwhelm you, I will end my list here, though I feel as if I could write to you all the thoughts of my heart and never wonder if they would remain safe with you. Nothing about this situation is ideal, but I promise, Emma, that you and I could make something great if you find it in your heart to accept a man you will, I pray, come to love in time.

For now, know that I have heard enough about you around London to know you are wonderfully friendly and kind, and your spark for life may turn out to be one of my favorite things about you, although, I am sure there are so many qualities to love that I will forever be changing my mind. Ah, there I go, being presumptuous again. Do not pay my eagerness any mind, as this decision is entirely up to you.

I pray with all my heart that I receive an answer from you, dear Emma. Until then, I am yours.

Affectionately,

A man foolish enough to hope

Emma sighed. If this man, who hadn't given his name, was in London, why could they not meet? She would like to put a face to the ideals, if nothing else. At the moment, she was imagining him with Nick's face, and she would be quite disappointed if he didn't turn out to be half as handsome.

She couldn't imagine why Nick would go to all this trouble instead of being forthright when she all but asked him if he could settle for someone like her, which was the reason she was so torn about this whole thing. He had been searching for someone for so long; he must not have seen Emma as an option, or he would have presented his hand as a solution to both of their problems after their conversation with Grandfather. So perhaps he wasn't the letter writer.

Oh, but this whole thing was going to drive her mad!

Her finger stroked the edge of the letter, and she knew she needed to respond. There was little time to waste; she wanted to ensure this man, whoever he might be, knew all the particulars of her circumstances before they made any decisions. Namely, how little time she truly had. But what could she say that wouldn't make her sound desperate? She was desperate, so perhaps she simply needed to be honest.

By the time she finished her letter—it was far longer than she had intended—she was practically starving, and she barely gave Jenny enough time to put her hair into a quick chignon after she dressed before she scurried down to the breakfast room with the letter tucked into her sleeve. With no address, she wasn't sure how to get it to the man, but she would find a way.

The way presented itself when she reached the breakfast room and found Nick alone, filling a plate with food from the sideboard.

"You're here!" Emma said.

He turned, flashing his brilliant smile. "I have been eating too much of Calloway's food and thought I might spread the—"

Emma rushed over to him, nearly knocking the plate out of his hand as she shoved her letter at him.

Laughing, he held it against his chest like it was precious cargo. "I take it you enjoyed his correspondence?'

"You knew I would."

"I hoped. There's a difference. What did he say?"

She had already shown too much eagerness as it was, so Emma lifted her chin. "Nothing that concerns you."

"And here I was thinking we were friends."

"We are friends." Even if Emma wished they were more. Oh goodness, did she wish that? She did, and that frightened her as much as it thrilled her. For all their bickering when they met, they really were quite suited to each other.

Placing his food on the table, Nick fingered the letter for a moment with curiosity clear in his eyes.

"Don't you dare think about reading it, Nicholas Forester."

He laughed. "But you gave it to me. And it has no name."

"He didn't give me a name."

"No?" His eyes danced. "That is interesting."

Emma watched him for any sign that he might be the man behind the mystery, like she suspected, but he was too difficult to read this morning. Nick was his own sort of mystery, and she would be disappointed not to unravel it as well as figure out who seemed so perfect on the page.

"Perhaps you could tell me his name," she said as casually as she could manage. Then she could ask Alvaro about him.

But Nick shook his head as he tucked the letter into his jacket. He was far too amused by this situation, given the circumstances of it all. "Where would be the fun in that, dear Emma? If he has chosen not to tell you his name, he must have a reason. I will take credit for pushing the two of you together, but I will go no further than acting as delivery boy to keep your secret."

This was so confusing! Emma sank into a chair, too caught up in her swirling thoughts to remember that she was hungry. If Nick wasn't the mysterious suitor, she would have to wrap her head around the idea of agreeing to marry a stranger without meeting him first. The banns would have to be read for the first time on Sunday to keep a wedding within Grandfather's time line, and that left only three days including today to form an attachment.

If Nick was the man who had written the letter, Emma had a lot of conflicting feelings. As much as she hated to think it, there was still the chance it would end up being a manipulation. A way for him to guarantee he could get what he wanted. He could also have genuine affection for her, and that thought filled her with warmth. Two days ago, before their walk, she had been sure he was about to kiss her before he'd stepped away.

Regardless of who had written the letter, Emma knew in her heart that Nick felt some affection for her. She simply wasn't sure how much. Curious, she decided to press for more information.

"Shall I fill a plate for you?" Nick asked, noticing she hadn't done so for herself before she sat.

Emma smiled at him, watching for any sign of a reaction. He seemed more concerned for her well-being than affected by her smile, but that was no matter. "Yes, thank you. I am afraid this whole thing has left me out of sorts."

"I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

She thought carefully about what to say next. "I tried to convince my grandfather to give us more time, but he would have none of it."

That made him pause, a spoon of jam halfway between the bowl and her plate. He seemed to be staring at nothing, his eyes slightly glazed over. "‘Us'?"

Emma bit her lips to keep from grinning, though she could do nothing about the warmth that entered her cheeks. "Though, you seem to have given up on wife hunting of late."

The spell breaking, Nick cleared his throat and then set her plate in front of her. "On the contrary," he said, though his words came out sounding hesitant.

Still, Emma didn't like the sound of that. "Oh?"

He fixed on a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just because I know all about your adventures in love doesn't mean you know of mine."

Her heart sank. "It is going well, then?"

"I'm feeling hopeful." His smile shifted into one more real, making his blue eyes dance while Emma's heart sank.

"Are you?" She tried to sound happy for him, but she didn't manage it very well. She tried again. "You think you have finally found someone worthy of the great Nicholas Forester?"

He chuckled. "I have found someone who makes me want to be the man she thinks I am. She pushes me to be better."

"Oh."

He must have seen her disappointment because he softened and crouched by her side, taking her hand. "If anyone can understand, dear Emma, you can. I could never forgive myself if I didn't fight for the life I want with the woman I love. I am a man of conviction. I don't know what will happen or if she will accept me, but you must know that I cannot in good conscience give up, just as you cannot surrender. We both deserve love, don't we?"

They did, and she couldn't help but smile despite the ache in her chest as she thought about someone else enjoying those smiles of his. "I suppose you are right. I would lose all respect for you if you allowed me to win. Even if I am going to win, I expect you to fight your hardest."

"And I will. I know what I want." He hadn't moved, and he watched her with an intensity that had her questioning things again. A man wouldn't look at her like that in the same breath as professing love for someone else, would he? She was hardly an expert in love, but she couldn't stomach the idea of falling for someone else when her heart beat so strongly for him.

Please be the man behind the letter , she silently begged him. If he wasn't, she didn't know what she was going to do.