Page 4 of If I Loved You
Mr. Smythe harrumphed at Emma’s question, confusing her until he enlightened her that this man was not particularly an employee of the inn, but rather hired by “that earl of yours”. Frowning over this bit of news, it didn’t take Emma long then to consider the man’s true purpose and the reasoning behind it. She had to wait three days to be visited by the earl again to let him know that she did not care at all for this circumstance, that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and that it was insulting to Mr. Smythe to imply that he certainly could not. She told him all of this when he entered the inn, the two of them standing in front of the registry desk in the front room.
Michael Benedict did not refute the man’s purpose, nor his part in his presence. In fact, the earl looked for a moment rather sheepish when he admitted, “My girl, I also tried to hire a nanny for the baby, that when you work you needn’t drag her room to room with you, and that you might have a little more freedom in your life.”
With her hands on her hips, exposing her outrage, Emma could only stare at the earl, as if he’d grown another head.
At her inability to speak, her amazement being that great, the earl continued, “Your Mr. Smythe, however, is a stubborn and proud man though I think I’ll wear him down yet. I’ll be interviewing prospective nannies at the end of the week.”
Further aghast, Emma felt an instant and harsh anger. “My lord, I must resist—Iwillresist. Enough is enough. I cannot let you do this.”
Untroubled by her upset, and firm in his own stance, the earl asked, “Can you give me one very good reason why I should not?”
“The greatest reason,” Emma replied without hesitation, “is that Ilikehaving her with me. If I didn’t have Bethany with me while I tended the rooms, I’d see her not much at all.”
For all the thought the earl apparently put into the betterment of their lives, he obviously had not considered this simple reasoning. But he was ever rational and open-minded, and it was easy for him to concede. “In truth I hadn’t contemplated this. I only thought to help you.”
Emma relaxed her rigid stance and softened her tone. “And I thank you, Michael. I truly do.” To appease him somewhat, and because she considered him after all these months her friend, she did occasionally make use of his name as he wished. Yet, their friendship did not give him leave to run her life. “Might we reach a compromise, my lord?” At his raised brow, she suggested, “I promise if I have a need, I will come to you. And you will promise that you will not guess at my needs and act before consulting me.”
“Fair enough, Emma dear.” He gave her then that smile that she’d grown to love, the sheepish one which appeared wholly out of place on this seasoned and respectable gentleman, when hesaid, “Of course, this would all be so much easier if you just let me have my way.”
Emma made a face at him, “Funny, my lord, I was thinking the exact same thing.”
The earl grinned and then Mama Smythe was heard at the top of the stairs and only brief seconds later, she was coming down, bearing Bethany, fresh from her nap, in her arms. The older woman laughed happily at Bethany’s excitement over the earl’s presence and handed the child over to him when she’d reached the ground floor.
“She sure enough takes to you, milord,” Mama Smythe observed, having not her husband’s distrust of the earl. She put Bethany’s doll into the earl’s hand as well, as Bethany was once again taken with the buttons upon his surcote.
“I’ll be getting to the back parlor in a moment,” Emma told Mama Smythe. “I see the Throckmortons have finally vacated it.”
Mama Smythe waved a pudgy hand. “No worry, dear. It’s early yet. I’m off to bake the bread. Good day, milord.”
“Good day to you, Mistress,” the earl returned. Bethany had grown tired of his buttons and began to reach for Emma. The earl kissed her round and pink cheek and pushed her into Emma’s waiting arms. “Go to Mama.”
“Mama,” Bethany repeated instantly, as she often did these days.
Emma stared, first at Bethany, then at Michael, her jaw nearly dropped. She should correct the child immediately but hadn’t thought of this situation before now. “Maybe Auntie,” she suggested, looking to Michael for confirmation.
He only shook his head. “Mama will do.”
“But I’m not—”
“But you are, my girl,” Michael insisted. “In her little life—all her life—you are the only mother she will know. Let it be.”
Wracked with indecision, Emma felt a tear escape. The profound effect that one simple word had on her was startlingly strong and she hugged Bethany tightly to her. Michael chuckled over her high emotions and kissed Emma’s forehead. “Let it be, my girl,” he insisted again, and Emma hadn’t the will or the desire to gainsay this.
Chapter Three
ZACHARY BENEDICT TIPPEDup his tankard, finishing the remaining ale within. He’d sat here at the King’s Arms Inn for the past hour, watching with ever-increasing anger as the tart with the red hair served up more than simply food and drink. He thought of his father and his well-mannered lifestyle, his attention to decorum, his very fastidious nature, and wondered how the hell he’d ever wound up consorting with the likes of this chit.
Glancing around yet again, happily taking his eyes from the young woman, Zach took in the whole of the establishment. The inn was orderly and well-kept, decidedly cleaner than many an inn he’d seen in his life, so it rather surprised him that it employed so base a creature as this girl.
Emma Ainsley, Zachary thought with a sneer, observing the girl again as she allowed a patron to lay a hand on her bottom.
The old man must have indeed been lonely in his last years, if this were the company he’d kept. Shaking his head, Zach wondered to what extent his father’s lows had actually reached; if he had begun to take common serving wenches as mistresses, what other madness might he have practiced.
Since the day more than a week ago when he’d been informed of his sire’s sudden death, Zach’s world had been turned upside-down. He been close with his father, having all his life looked up to the man, who had—to his previous knowledge—never so much as walked on the wrong side of the street. True, Zach’s own enterprises of the past few years had kept them apart more often than not, but this only added to his grief whenhe’d received the awful news. But his sadness was then compounded by confusion and a bit of anger when he’d been read the will and learned of this Emma Ainsley, and the tidy monthly stipend she’d been afforded by his father. Zach’s interest was only further piqued when he learned of the hired man set to work at the same establishment as this woman.
To look at the chit, he’d not have guessed her to be worth the monies put to her, but Zach had to conclude that his father certainly thought her wares pleasing enough, if he’d bothered to include her in his will only two months ago, and include her generously indeed.
Distastefully, he inclined his head to summon the wench once again to him, bound to get on with this business, however offensive it might be. Ambling his way with a practiced sway to her ample hips only fueled further Zach’s already pounding irritation. As she neared, Zach again wondered at his father’s tastes, for this woman was clearly one who’d seen more years than likely she’d admit to, not all of them kind, and whose brazen manner with any and all left a distinctly sour taste in his mouth.
