Chapter 8

Eight

E mma soaked in a warm bath. Her body had aches in places she didn’t realize could ache, and she also felt deliciously loved. The night with Blake had been beyond anything she could have dreamt. He’d had her in more ways than one, and her imagination would never have come up with all of them. Perhaps having a rogue as her first lover had been a most inspired choice. Not that she had been thinking about any of that when she begged him to take her. It had been desire and need driving her when she was in his arms.

Leaving him to return to her bedchamber had been difficult. She hadn’t wanted to be parted from him. Something had changed between them. Emma wasn’t certain she wanted to define it yet. Their connection was tenuous and fragile. What if something destroyed it? She wasn’t certain she would be able to survive that devastation. Emma had never truly felt happiness. Every bit she had, she’d had to fight for in order to keep that small amount.

She closed her eyes and reminded herself to breathe. It was best not to beg for trouble that had not reared its ugly head. Blake hadn’t made any promises, but he hadn’t spurned her either. He may very well want the same things she did. The only way she was to discern any of it was to have an actual conversation with him. Speculation would not aid her in this. Only the truth would, and for that she’d need to seek out Blake. The sooner the better.

After she finished her bath, she rang for her maid. She had to dress as quickly as possible and seek him out. It was Christmas Day and there would be a big luncheon for all of the guests. They had some holiday entertainments planned as well. She couldn’t make herself care about any of it. Not even the results of her revenge scheme. None of it mattered compared to her newfound feelings for Blake.

Her maid came into the room. 'Good morning,' she said. 'Do you need help to dress ?

“Yes,” she replied. “I want to wear the blue day gown. Can you dress my hair in a similar fashion as you did for the masquerade?”

“Of course,” her maid answered.

Her maid helped her dress and then she sat at her vanity. The gentle pull of the brush through her hair relaxed her. She drifted back to the night before and the pleasure she found with Blake. The way that man kissed. A shiver rolled up her spine as she the sensual memory poured over her. She couldn’t wait to feel his lips on hers again. She closed her eyes and imagined that reunion. It was so decadent and enthralling she remained in the fantasy the entire time that her maid dressed her hair.

“All done,” her maid announced.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she smiled. “Thank you. That will be all.” She could finish preparing for her meeting with Blake on her own. Her maid curtsied and left the room.

Emma sat and slid on her boots. She wanted to be comfortable and slippers usually pinched her toes. After she was satisfied with her appearance, she left her bedchamber and went in search of Blake. She strolled into the drawing room hoping he’d be there, but not really expecting him to be. The drawing room wasn’t his usual haunt .

She stopped short when she entered. Blake wasn’t there, but some guests were. The very guests she’d invited for purposes of revenge. Lady Arabella Jones and Miss Harriett Smythe stood facing each other. Now this was interesting… Perhaps finding Blake could wait a few moments longer after all.

“You know how I feel about him,” Harriett said in a cold tone. Her anger wasn’t the sort that burned bright, but turned to ice. Emma would never have guessed that. “You should have stopped him from kissing you.”

Arabella rolled her eyes. “There is no need to be so dramatic.” She sighed. “It was a kiss under the mistletoe. It meant nothing.”

“Then why permit it at all? I thought you were my friend.” She glared at Arabella. “Friends do not betray each other.”

“Get over your self-importance.” Arabella stomped her food. “You know better. I don’t have friends. What I have is people that are useful to me. Perhaps your relevance as one of my attendants has come to an end.”

“I am not a servant, Arabella.” Harriett shoved her. Arabella flailed as she tried to remain upright, but she lost that battle and crashed to the floor. “I may have been wrong about you, but mistakes can be rectified. You are as unimportant to me as you found me. Do not bother to seek me out again. You’re no longer welcome in my life.”

“That’s perfectly acceptable to me,” Arabella sat up on the floor. “As I no longer wish to have you in my life as well.”

This had been what she’d hoped for. They had taken her roommate away from her. At the time Fenella had been her only friend. Now they would understand that loss. At least she knew Fenella had survived her near drowning and gone home. Emma had just never had any contact with her again.

“Emma,” someone said from behind her.

She turned and blinked. Emma should have recognized her voice, but she hadn’t paid enough attention when she’d heard her name. All her focus had been on the argument between Arabella and Harriett. She lifted a hand to her chest and gasped, “Fenella?”

Emma had invited Fenella, but she hadn’t expected her to attend. She never responded to any letters she sent. Why would she accept an invitation to attend a Christmastide house party? She had sent it more out of a habit than with any anticipation of her showing. But here she was, in front of her.

“Hello, Emma,” she said in a soft tone. “My apologies for arriving so late.” Her hair was still a bright red, and those green eyes of hers remained arresting. Her freckles had lessened, but some still scattered across her nose and cheeks. It was endearing. “We ran into a spot of trouble on our way here.”

A man walked in and nodded. “Are you all right, my dear?”

She smiled at him. It was an older gentleman. He had some silver in his dark hair, and green eyes the same shade as Fenella’s. “Father, she said. This is Miss Emma Collins. My dearest friend.” She turned to Emma. “This is my father, The Earl of Mar.”

“Lord Mar,” Emma nodded at him. “I’ am glad you were both able to attend. We still have a few days left of Christmastide, and you’re most welcome.” Far more welcome that the two women she’d been staring at before Fenella’s arrival.

Fenella glanced at them now. “Why are they here?”

“Ending their friendship, apparently.” Emma held back a grin. Best not to be smug and let them know how they’d ended up having a disagreement.

Harriett nodded at them. “Hello, Lady Fenella,” she said. Harriett stepped forward. “I am glad you’re here. I owe you a long overdue apology. All those years ago…” She drew in a breath. “I allowed myself to be led down a dangerous path, and that almost led to you losing far too much. I regret what happened, and I’m grateful that Emma was able to save you that day. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I am offering you my apologies, nonetheless.”

“Thank you,” Fenella said. “I am grateful for that.”

Arabella said nothing. She pushed past them and left the drawing room. Emma shook her head. Of course Arabella would not apologize. She never believed herself in the wrong. “Please come in,” she told Lord Mar and Fenella. “I’ll order tea.”

“That would be lovely,” Fenella said. “But I’m tired and wish to rest. We can have tea this afternoon. I’ve missed you.”

“All right,” Emma said. “Go rest. We have time later to talk.”

Fenella hugged Emma, then she left the drawing room. Her father followed behind her. Lord Mar seemed overprotective, but Emma didn’t blame him for having caution where Fenella was concerned. She had almost died. If she had a child that nearly perished, then she’d want to keep them safe as well.

That left her alone with Harriett. She turned toward her. “That was kind of you to apologize.”

She sighed. “It was long overdue. That day…” Sh e glanced away. “We were reckless, and Fenella almost paid the price for it. She was owed more than an apology.”

Emma agreed, but she had not thought Harriett would have believed as much. She decided to take pity on Harriett. She seemed much kinder than Arabella. “I overheard your disagreement,” she began. “It’s not my place to comment on your difficulties. But I would like to say one thing. Lord Clouston is a kind man. You shouldn’t be too upset with him. I did hang mistletoe all over the manor.”

“You may be correct,” she said softly. “But I’m not ready to accept it.” Harriett’s eyes were filled with pain. Emma had done that to her. “I need time to grieve what I’ve lost. Arabella was my closest friend. I knew she could be cruel, but I never thought she’d be that way with me.” She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “If you’ll pardon me, I am going to rest in my chambers. If you don’t mind, I may join you and Lady Fenella for afternoon tea.”

“That would be all right with me.” She thought Fenella would agree as well. “Go rest if that is what you need.”

Harriett left the drawing room. Emma moved to the window and stared out at the stark white landscape. She was alone now and left with her thoughts. She still had to locate Blake and have a conversation with him, as well. The morning had been enlightening. Her revenge had been far more successful that she had thought it would be. How would Arabella have reacted if Lord Marlinton had kissed Harriett? She would have been far more vicious. It was fortunate that her opportunity hadn’t been in the reverse. Emma feared what Arabella might have done.

“There you are,” Blake said. “I have been searching for you.”

She turned and met his gaze. Emma grinned. “I’ve been here for a while now. Where have you looked?”

“Well,” he said. “I did start at your bedchamber. I must confess I had hoped to find you still in your bed.” He walked toward her and pulled her into his arms. “I wanted to join you there.” Blake pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” Happiness filled her. “Then it’s unfortunate that I did not stay in bed.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I would have welcomed you.” She stepped on her tiptoes and whispered. “It’s also sad that you missed joining me in my bedchamber as I bathed. That was quite the missed opportunity. ”

He groaned. “You’re a minx.” Blake brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “But you’re mine.” His eyes were warm and not just from the desire he clearly felt for him. “Emma, love,” he began. “We have much to discuss.”

“We do,” she agreed. “We were too busy last night to say much of anything.”

Blake lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the settee. He didn’t set her down. He sat and held her in his lap. “This is scandalous,” she told him.

“You like me this way.” His wickedness was addicting. He was too correct in his assumption. “Besides, we belong together. It’s best that you get used to me keeping you in my lap.”

She lifted a brow. “I don’t recall agreeing to anything.”

“But you will.” His confidence should irritate her. “Darling, we’re going to get married. Accept it.”

“Don’t you think you ought to, perhaps, ask me?” Incorrigible arse.

“If you insist.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “My love, will you please consent to be my wife and allow me to love you for the rest of our lives? I will endeavor to give you all of myself and ensure you know nothing but pleasure. ”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I love you. Of course I’ll marry you.”

“I never thought I could love anyone as much as I do you, my clever little minx.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “We are going to have the best life together.”

Emma believed him. Her happiness had never been guaranteed. But now not only was it possible, she would hold on to it with everything she had inside of her. This wasn’t a game. She would gladly set that aside for him. There was nothing else she wanted more. Emma held him close and reveled in his embrace. This was the best Christmastide ever. Nothing would ever compare to it.