Page 159 of A Winter By the Sea
She said, “I am glad you were honest with me, for it made it easier to be honest in my answer. You have not lost your heart here in Sidmouth, but there is every chance you may do so where next you go. For there are other practical, hardworking women in the world, and other establishments for sale. Perhaps you may find one closer to your parents one day.”
He shot her a look. “You are telling me not to buy Broadbridge’s.”
“I don’t presume to tell you what to do, but in all honesty, I cannot see you being happy there. Your talent for grand cuisine and masterful sugar work would be wasted. I cannot believe you would be content to poach kippers and fry eggs, even for a year or two, with the highlight of the week being a Sunday roast with boiled potatoes, and perhaps a humble rice pudding for dessert, which is what the patrons of Broadbridge’s would expect.”
He frowned, a shudder passing over his frame. “You are trying to lessen the sting of your rejection.”
“True. But let me tell you where I can see you. I can picture you in that small hotel you mentioned, perhaps in Mayfair, with a fashionable restaurant that serves fine French and Italian cuisine.”
Again, he looked off into the distance, and this time his eyes shone. He nodded slowly. “Yes. I can see that too.”
With the duke’s removal from Sidmouth postponed, the staff members at Sea View had time on their hands. As a distraction from grief and idleness, James gave Georgiana another fencing lesson. Emily went up to the nursery to watch and cheer on her sister, whose skill was rapidly improving. Even so, her gaze returned most often to Mr. Thomson, his masterful wielding of a foil reminding her yet again of his heroic rescue in the cave.
When the practice bout ended, Georgiana let out a loud exhale and announced, “I’m going down for the biggest glass of lemonade I can find. Anyone else?”
“You go ahead,” Emily said. “You’ve earned it.”
When she had gone, Emily regarded Mr. Thomson anew. “I meant to say something earlier. But with everything elsegoing on, I have not. Doing what you did—standing up to that dangerous man and rescuing Sarah and Mr. During—that was very brave.”
James shrugged. “In truth, I did it for you. I knew how much it would devastate you if anything happened to one of your sisters.”
Warmth rushed through her. “You are right. And I am deeply grateful.”
“I was also terrified, to be honest,” he added. “Yet in the moment, instinct and training took over, thank God.”
“You were amazing. You put yourself between them and a smuggler brandishing a knife.”
“I may be somewhat out of practice with the sword, but I felt I might be able to fight off a man with only a knife. But when he drew a pistol ...” James puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath. “I was never so relieved as when Bernardi struck him from behind. He is the one who truly saved the day.”
Emily shook her head. “He would never have got close enough had you not taken on the smuggler first. Sarah said you struck the knife from his hand.”
“That the maneuver worked surprised even me.”
“You are too modest, James Thomson.”
“I suppose that is what comes of being a younger so—”
“Don’t say it!” Emily interjected, palm raised. “You must stop limiting yourself by your birth order. You are far more than a younger son. You are a strong, humble man willing to risk his own comfort and safety to help others. Those are rare, valuable qualities. Do you not know it?”
His voice lowered. “I begin to, when you say it.”
She met his gaze and gave him a slow smile. “Then I will keep saying it until you fully believe it for yourself.”
He returned her smile, eyes glimmering with pleasure as he gazed into hers. Then he took a step closer, his focus loweringto her mouth. Emily’s chest tightened, and she suddenly felt light-headed.
“Emily,” he breathed, looking intently into her face.
Her heart tingled at his use of her Christian name.
“Y-yes?”
He moved closer yet, his forehead near hers, his nose even nearer. She was tempted to angle her face and lean up.
In a husky voice, he began, “How I wish ...”
When he did not finish, she prompted softly, “What do you wish?”
For a moment longer, he wavered near, his eyes moving from her mouth to her eyes and back again. Then he drew a ragged breath and retreated a step. “I wish we were free.”
