Page 13 of If I Loved You
They were on their way to a small property and house he’d found, thinking it a possibility for her new home. Emma was not excited. This would be their third venture out, visiting cottages for sale. Thus far, the earl had proven to be a very discriminating buyer, finding fault with everything from the size of the rooms (“too small”), to the state of the yard (“those tracks had looked like mole tunnels”), to the ineptness of the caretaker (“he was a drunkard, I tell you”).
Presently, they sought out the Daisies Cottage, located on the edge of Hertfordshire, the closest village being Perry Green. The carriage ambled carefully down a leafy lane to the secluded property, both Zach and Emma turning their heads to view the house as it came into view. The stone and ivied house was nestled into a valley and Emma could see that coming out the front door, painted a merry shade of bright blue, would lead a person directly upon meandering lanes and within sight of breathtaking views of the valley and the farmland. On the north side, there was an apple and pear orchard and there sat within this, two wicker chairs and a small table.
She thought the place charming upon first sight, and possibly the perfect size for her plans, but dared not let her hopes rise as the earl was likely to find it unacceptable.
When the carriage stopped, the earl disembarked and offered his hand. Emma placed her gloved hand in his, attempting to pay no heed to the spark of heat that raced through her with every small touch of his. For three days, she’d steadfastly refused to recall his kiss, though had been successful in this endeavor only rarely, but determined that there be no repeat of that embrace; her body and mind had thrilled at his touch then, and this was apt to cause her nothing but heartache.
Mentally shaking herself, she stepped from the carriage and happily onto solid ground. The ride had not been overlong, but Emma found herself a bit stiff from holding such an immobile posture in his close company.
“This is lovely indeed,” she said, waiting for the inevitable fault-finding mission to begin.
“So far, yes,” he surprised her by agreeing.
A man appeared then from around the side of the cottage, moving slowly upon legs that seemed to present him knee-first. “You’d be the earl,” he guessed. “This here is our Daisy cottage, though I ain’t seen daisies here in thirty years.”
He spoke as slowly as he walked and had perhaps seen years numbering more than seventy, Emma guessed. She watched him shift upon his bent legs, and tuck one hand into his rope belt while the other pushed the thin and longish hair off his forehead. “Oh,” he said then, with a slap at his forehead. “I’d be Henry, the caretaker. Suppose you’d be wanting to see the inside.” And without awaiting a reply, he sauntered leisurely toward the front door.
Emma passed an appreciative glance over the flower boxes that graced the two windows which flanked the front door. She frowned and looked to the earl to see if he’d noticed the prolific abundance of daisies within these boxes. He had, apparently, for he offered her a small yet disarming grin at their presence of the pretty blooms, certainly after Henry had specifically mentioned the lack thereof.
They followed Henry into the cottage and Emma was immediately delighted with the open floor plan. The foyer was set with well-kept flagstone and the walls were papered charmingly in a dainty floral print. Directly across from the door, a wooden staircase with engraved trim, uncarpeted, reached the second floor. To the left was a parlor with knotted beams upon the high ceiling, the room filled with pretty furniture. To the right was a small study, the walls lined with shelves and shelves of books, the room bright despite its heavy woodwork.
Henry said not a word but walked by these rooms, leading them down a wide hallway next to the staircase, to the rear of the house, where sat the kitchen. This room was small, but againthe high ceiling afforded it a larger appearance and Emma saw that there was, aside from the usual kitchen fixtures, a pump within a tall and wide sink basin. They followed Henry, who continued on through a wide pantry and into the back hall. There, he painstakingly mounted a narrow spiral staircase and walked down the well-lit corridor upon the second floor. The earl pushed open each of the three doors to reveal three bedchambers, all bright and pretty and well-furnished. A fourth door, open to reveal large windows presently letting in ample sunshine, showed a modest sitting room, which connected to one of the bed chambers.
Henry pointed slowly to another door, further down the hall. “Stairs to servants chambers, four of ‘em, and maybe some storage or what have you.”
At the end of the hallway, Henry turned a small corner and began to descend the stairs, which brought them back to the main foyer. “Well, there ye be,” he said, and seemed to wait for an instant decision. Emma cast questioning eyes toward the earl. “Oh,” Henry said then, “and the small dining room is through the parlor there.” He pointed in the general direction with his thumb. “Meets the kitchen, too, after the pantry.”
Emma nodded, thinking this was by far her favorite of the houses they had toured, but inwardly thought it silly to get her hopes up for surely this lease would be beyond her means, whatever they may be. And then she nearly collapsed when the earl looked at her and asked if she liked it. Had she not been so surprised by this solicitation, she might have better considered his motive here—he hadn’t asked her opinion at the previous three cottages they’d seen. But she did like this place, very much so. “I do. It’s very bright and the yard is lovely. It’s not too far from PerryGreen, within walking distance I imagine, on a fine day.” She watched the earl nod at her. To Henry, she dared to ask, “How much to let the house month to month?” She watched Henry look to the earl and had a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to discussing business with a female.
“Emma—“ the earl began.
“For sale, milord, not to lease,” Henry said at the same time, looking at the earl.
Emma’s heart sank. She didn’t know much about the cost of things, but she knew for sure an outright purchase was out of the question. “Oh,” was all she said. Dejected, Emma felt her shoulders slump, supposing this perfectly charming place no longer an option. She lifted a re-animated gaze, however, when she heard the earl say, “We’ll take it, then.”
Emma turned sharply. “My lord?”
But he paid her no mind, other than to place his hand at the back of her arm when she neared him, telling Henry that he should inform his employer—Lord Darby, the current owner—that his solicitors would be ‘round to make the deal. With that, Henry tipped his head politely at the earl and then again to Emma and the earl steered her out of the cottage.
“My Lord,” Emma protested, “for Bethany’s sake, I am not against accepting your father’s bequest, but I don’t think—“
“Good, then don’t start,” the earl clipped, causing Emma to frown yet more. “Trust me, there is plenty. And you’ve still quite enough left to see to your daily needs.”
She had no idea what she’d done to incur this present ill-humor of his—he’d asked if she liked it; she answered yes, that was all. So why was he angry now? she wondered. She allowed him to hand her into the phaeton once more and they made the twenty-minute drive to Benedict House in complete silence, but she was ever aware of the ticking vein at his temple, as he allowed her to view only his profile.
Chapter Seven
ONCE RETURNED TO BENEDICTHouse, Emma clambered out of the phaeton before the earl might have been of assistance. She would be thrilled to be well gone from him. True, he’d done her a kindness to purchase so costly a house for her, but that benevolence, offered so abrasively, seemed then not a kindness at all. And she was reminded that it wasn’thiskindness at all, but his father’s. Emma began to believe that he was as anxious as she to have her gone from his home. She bothered not to hide her distress and made no excuse but ran directly up the stairs without even the politeness of a by-your-leave.
The man was insufferable, she decided, and found it then impossible not to compare his dastardly nature with that of his charming father, once again finding the present earl much lacking. And oh, how she missed Michael!
Emma reached her rooms just as Mrs. Conklin was exiting the nursery next door. The plump housekeeper put her index finger to her lips. “She’s just gone down for her nap, Miss. She was an angel, to be sure.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Conklin,” Emma replied. “It was nice of you to look after her.”
“‘Tis no trouble, Miss, though truly I don’t know how you’ll manage when you leave.”
Leave, she couldn’t do soon enough, Emma thought irritably but showed this not to the kindly housekeeper. “We’ll manage just fine, Mrs. Conklin. Truthfully, I’m not much used to having so much free time. We’ll settle back into our old ways, just Bethany and me,” she offered, though other ideas had recentlycome to her. She turned then,feelinghim near. As Mrs. Conklin moved away from Emma and down the corridor, Emma saw that the earl had reached the second-floor landing. His face was set into the same scowl it had shown most of these last few days, yet his eyes seemed to devour her, and this severe stare sent Emma scurrying into her room.
