Chapter Thirty-Four

For perhaps the first time in his life, Nick didn't care one whit what this roomful of people thought of him. He could feel their stares as he paced the length of Lord Norwich's drawing room, and he was certain most of the whispers were regarding him. He didn't care. The only reason he had come to this dinner party was to see Emma and give her his next letter in response to the one he'd received from her at breakfast this morning.

The problem was Emma wasn't here, and he was only able to pace for the span of three minutes before Lady Georgina approached him.

"I haven't seen you out much lately, Mr. Forester," she said after greeting him.

Nick reluctantly kept his feet in one place, forcing a smile. "I've been rather busy of late."

"Yes, so I've heard."

His stomach did a flip. He had quickly grown used to everyone disregarding the rumors about him that he had quite forgotten how it felt to have someone believe something. "And what is it you've heard?" he asked, too curious to make his question more subtle.

Lady Georgina smiled, and there was nothing flirtatious in the gesture. Simply friendliness, something he had experienced little of in the last few years. That made his stomach flip again. What was happening? "I know I shouldn't pay attention to all the gossip, but Lady Hayworth was quite convincing."

Lavinia had actually said something? But what had she said? How brutally had she cut him down to save Emma? Perhaps she hadn't done so at all and had instead chosen to tear them both down.

Though Nick was too stunned to respond, Lady Georgina didn't seem to mind. In fact, her smile grew at his silence, as if he had unknowingly confirmed something. "To think I listened to all that nonsense about you when you were not the cause of any of it. What must you think of me?"

"I don't understand," he finally admitted.

"Lady Hayworth told me about your engagement and how she was the one to break it off. To think you took all the blame and suffered the scandal to protect her! I cannot imagine how much that must have pained you."

Nick's jaw dropped, and he suddenly became aware of more people listening to the conversation than he'd realized. Most of the room, in fact. But he couldn't focus on that because he was slowly comprehending what Lady Georgina had just said. Lavinia had told the truth ? Or at least a version of the truth that painted him in a better light and left her looking the fool? Why would she do such a thing?

"I am sorry to have misjudged you," Lady Georgina said, bowing her head.

Nick couldn't find any words, so he simply gawked at her, still trying to understand. Her sentiments seemed to be reflected in everyone else in the room, which made sense. Lavinia had always had a good deal of social influence, even without her husband.

He had to hope Lord Hayworth did nothing to punish her for speaking out, but he wasn't a cruel man. Hayworth may have pursued an engaged woman because her father was an earl, but he had always seemed to carry some measure of affection for her. Otherwise, Nick wouldn't have let her go so easily.

He had loved Lavinia, but the way his heart beat for Emma was so much stronger. Maybe Lavinia had made a match between him and Emma not only possible but ideal. Did Emma feel the same? Nick still didn't know. He wouldn't until he revealed the truth to her.

"I was hoping to make your better acquaintance tonight, but..." Lady Georgina smirked at him when his attention snapped back to her, her eyes taking him in from head to toe. "It is clear your affections are already spoken for. I hope she makes you happy, Mr. Forester. I think you, more than anyone, deserve that much."

Nick spent the next twenty minutes surrounded by people wishing to express their apologies for letting gossip get the better of them, and he was almost grateful that when Emma finally arrived with her sister, he couldn't break away to greet her. He needed some time to process this turn of events and wonder what it might mean for his future. It shouldn't have mattered, but regaining his social standing would give him a better chance at giving Emma the life she deserved.

Or maybe she would take it as a sign that they wouldn't suit and he should pursue someone like Lady Georgina, who would enjoy being well-known.

He decidedly did not want the latter outcome.

By the time he finally convinced the gentlemen to finish their port after dinner and allow him to break away from the endless conversations they had pulled him into—many of which involved what a catch Emma was—he was more than glad to see Emma sitting on her own. He had half expected her to be surrounded like he had been, given how much everyone was talking about her pleasant personality and clever stories.

Lavinia likely hadn't known about Emma's storytelling, but perhaps she had squashed any negative rumors flying about, leaving room for the good notions to circulate more naturally.

He slid onto the window seat beside her with so much eagerness that he crashed into the glass behind him, but he hardly cared when he was rewarded with a bright smile.

"I was starting to think you had forgotten I existed," she said with a laugh.

"Forget you? Impossible." Oh, he had missed her. He hadn't seen her since this morning, and that was far too long to go without her dimpled smile.

"I see your admirers have returned."

Nick glanced around the room, unsurprised to see several pairs of eyes on the two of them. It felt so familiar, and yet he had realized during dinner that he didn't care whether the ton loved him or hated him. The only person whose opinion mattered was right beside him, where she should be. "It seems Lady Hayworth has been working hard to repair what you so happily broke."

Emma snickered. "I know. You think the ladies were talking about anything else? I only just managed to extricate myself before you came out."

"Ah, so I have interrupted your alone time. I should leave you to it." He stood, laughing when Emma grabbed his arm and tugged him back down. But then he turned more serious. If he was going to follow through with his plan, she would forever be tied to his fate. "Are you angry that you've been dragged back into the gossip mill? I can tell them to leave you out of it, though I can't guarantee they will listen to me. I'm rather out of practice when it comes to commanding the crowds."

Narrowing her eyes, Emma gave him a playful shove. "You forget, sir, that I managed to undo what you built in three years with a single conversation. I think if anyone can convince London to leave us alone, it will be me. Besides, I hardly care what they think of me. It won't change who I am."

Lud, he could no longer remember a time when he wasn't madly in love with this woman. Unless he wanted to truly shock Society by kissing her right here and now, he needed to distract himself.

"I have another letter for you," he said, patting his jacket. "Though, I have no idea how to give it to you without anyone seeing."

"I don't care what they see. Give it to me."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Now? Are you sure? You've seen how quickly word can spread through London, and if anyone thinks you're writing to someone you shouldn't be, you'll be—"

"Forced to wed?" Raising an eyebrow, she held out her hand, palm up. "I don't think my circumstances could be any worse than they already are, do you?"

In all honesty, he would rather she wasn't forced into anything at all, but there was only so much he could control about this situation. He handed her the letter and held his breath as she read.

"Oh," she said when she'd finished.

Of all the times for her expression to be unreadable, it had to be now? "What did he say?"

"He wants to meet at the Bartletts' ball tomorrow." She frowned, making Nick's stomach clench.

"That's a good thing, is it not?" He could barely breathe, wondering why she looked so disappointed. Either she knew it was him and didn't know how to reject him, or she wished it was him and didn't know how to tell her mystery suitor that she was already in love with someone else. Or perhaps he had no idea how to read this woman and he was wrong about everything. That seemed far more likely.

Folding the letter and gripping it between her hands, Emma gazed at it for a long while with a furrowed brow. "What if I meet him and I cannot love him?" she asked quietly.

Then, he will live out his days poor and heartbroken. Nick swallowed. He most assuredly didn't want that outcome, but two letters to the woman hardly counted as building trust. If only he could have been writing to her from the moment he'd met her. "I think he will understand that your duty is to your happiness and nothing else."

Looking up at him, Emma searched his face for a long while before she whispered, "What if he finds he cannot love me ?" Her voice broke, cracking Nick's heart in the process. It felt almost as if she was asking him if he loved her, and he didn't want to learn he was wrong about that assumption.

"My dear, darling Emma," he said as gently as he could, "any man would be a fool not to fall in love with you, and I guarantee this man is no fool. Not in this case, at least." In every other instance, perhaps.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she stared at him. "Are you certain?"

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, wishing he could hold her and show her how deeply he cared for her. They had already spent too long on their own, and he could see her sister getting anxious as she watched them. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life," he said, and then he reluctantly got to his feet. "Would you like to go home?"

Emma nodded, still clutching the letter like her life depended on it.

With all eyes on him, Nick quietly explained to Lady Harstone that Emma was feeling unwell, and then he offered to escort them both home. Thankfully, Lady Harstone didn't ask any questions, and the three of them were silent until they reached Calloway's. Lady Harstone had pretended to fall asleep on the way—she sat too stiffly for it to be genuine—but Nick appreciated the small bit of privacy regardless.

"Emma," he said, keeping his voice low. "Everything will be all right."

Her eyes traced his face. "Do you promise?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in the word this time, which gave him just enough hope to keep going.

Picking up her hand, he brought her fingers to his lips, holding them there, as if he could suspend time with his kiss. "I have some business to attend to tomorrow," he told her, "but I will be at the Bartletts', right by your side. Spend the day with your grandfather and take heart. You will have your happy ending."

As tempted as he was to lean forward and press his lips to hers, he forced himself to instead open the door and step out into the winter chill. He wouldn't be able to sleep a wink tonight, but he hoped he had laid the groundwork well enough. With Emma watching him out the window until the carriage had vanished into the darkness, he had just enough hope to last until tomorrow.