Page 47 of If I Loved You
She watched Callum let himself out of the gate and went toward the back door. It was time for Bethany’s nap, and truth be told, she was very excited as she planned to make her first meal—today, she was going to attempt a stew. All thoughts and enthusiasm about this endeavor fled as she lifted her eyes to the back door.
The Earl of Lindsey was here.
Zachary Benedict stood in the open doorway. He looked, while not quite angry, at least cross about something. There was definitely a storminess about him now.
Emma, for just a moment when she saw him, felt her stomach flip a little at the very picture he made. He was entirely too handsome for her peace of mind, and she recalled—immediately and thoroughly, while she wished to the heavens that she did not—the feel of his mouth on hers. “Good day, my lord.” She greeted him and he stepped aside to let her enter the back hall to the kitchen.
“Who was that man?” He asked pointedly, not bothering with a greeting.
Ah, she thought with an irritated grimace, therein lay the crux of today’s agitation. “That was Callum MacKenzie. He is my neighbor. Will you excuse me while I put Bethany down for her nap?”
He nodded curtly, and Emma left the kitchen, aware that he had begun to remove his riding jacket, wondering how long he planned to stay.
She returned fifteen minutes later, the fresh air having aided her efforts to get Bethany to sleep. In the kitchen, she found Zachary seated on the lone stool at the cutting table and grinned nervously at him as he watched her. She washed her hands in a basin full of now tepid water and used a cloth to dry her hands and quickly wipe her face.
Finally, she turned to face the earl. “What brings you out to the Daisies today, my lord?” He looked so casual, in his fawn colored breeches with his tall riding boots, his lawn shirt open at the neck, one booted foot propped on a lower rung of the stool. He was smiling at her as she neared the table and her heart turned over yet again. Without warning, he reached across the narrow table and took the towel she twisted now in her hands from her. He beckoned her nearer with a wave of his hand. Bemused, Emma leaned a bit over the table, wondering what he was about, until he wiped at her cheek, where possibly there remained smudges of dirt from her work in the yard.
She staunchly refused to be affected by the touch of his other hand holding her chin, while he used the cloth much as she might to Bethany probably thirty times a day. From so close a distance, their eyes met, the cloth lowered now, though he stillheld her chin. He stared intently at her, his eyes seeming to bore into her very soul. Finally, just as her cheeks began to redden under his mesmerizing perusal, he released her.
“And what has this MacKenzie fellow promised to help you with next week?” He now wanted to know, his voice just slightly less than disagreeable.
Emma shrugged, having not the slightest clue why she should be nervous to tell him of the position she’d taken at Madam Carriere’s.
“I’ve a job which begins next week,” she rushed out then, turning away from his probing eyes to pretend great interest in the vegetables she’d planned to use for dinner. She faced the window which overlooked the back yard. “The hours are in the evening—just a few days a week—and so Callum has agreed to come and fetch me so Bethany and I haven’t to walk home in the dark.” She didn’t need to turn around to gauge his reaction. She could justfeelhis disapproval, shooting off him like sparks from a fire.
It was almost a full minute before he spoke, in which time Emma was able to do nothing more than nervously rearrange the carrots and potatoes and onions in front of her.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” he said from behind her, his voice now edged with disbelief and anger. “Number one, you will not take a job. Number two, you certainly will not take a position that keeps you out late at night. Number three, you don’t even know this man—you’ve only been here a short time—and you’ll not trust him to drive you or Bethany anywhere.” As he continued, his voice grew louder and angrier still. “And number four, are you going to actually do something with those vegetablesor are you content to have your dinner be nothing more than a finely displayedpictureof what you might have cooked?”
Infuriated at his high-handedness—once again—Emma turned to confront him, startled to find that he’d moved from the stool and now was directly in front of her. She jumped in reaction to his closeness, and words she’d intended to throw at him scrambled in her head. “I’ll have you —you have no right.... who do you think...? If I want to have a job, you are not anyone who can—“
“Emma, think.” This, given sharply, his brow showing a matching annoyance. “You are provided with enough moneys to see you comfortably through each month—why on earth would you think you need to take a job? And if you had need of a job, why would you accept one that offers such dreadful hours for you?”
“But I have the Daisies now,” she stammered. “There mustn’t be very much left. And I am still uncomfortable taking money from your father, which is now essentially yours.”
He sighed in frustration. “We’ve been over this. Why not take what is available to you?”
She fumed at his frustration, angered that he thought her a simpleton—his tone said as much. “I balk at accepting the money for just this reason,” she spat out. “Because you think you have rights—or that you have some say over my life and my decisions.”
“I am just trying to help—“
“You are not trying to help me! You are trying to control me!”
It appeared to Emma at that moment that the earl made a visible effort to lessen his anger. Coolly, he said, “You’ve never had to completely take care of yourself before now, have you?”When she hesitantly shook her head, he went on, “I just don’t want you to make mistakes or get into a situation that might cause you harm.”
Emma said sadly, “It’s just... I feel I haven’t earned it. I’ve no right to it.”
The earl nodded. In agreement? She wondered.
“My father obviously thought you had,” he finally said. “Listen, Emma, what’s done is done. It’s already yours. That is what I am trying to tell you. You’ve an account in Perry Green. That is another reason for my visit today, I wanted to give you the records for that and tell you how to go about getting pin money and such.”
Emma rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “How can I possibly have pin money left when this place surely took more than what your father wanted me to have?”
He laughed briefly. “You obviously have no idea how great the amount was that my father put aside for you, Emma. There is plenty, trust me. So you needn’t work to have spending money, it’s all waiting there for you. You also have an account at the general merchant shop in town. You can set up more if you like.”
Emma slumped against the counter behind her. “I–I’m just so uncomfortable with this entire arrangement. Why did he do this for me? I told him repeatedly that I...” she let it trail off, hating then that a lone tear spilled onto her cheek.
Zachary shrugged, a flash of displeasure in his dark eyes. “It’s done.” When Emma said nothing else just then, Zachary said, “Let’s talk no more of money and jobs you’ll not have to procure. And you can tell this MacKenzie fellow that he needn’t be sniffing around, that his help won’t be required.”
