Page 48 of Love Set Apart
“Without money, the girl is no better than a pauper. I feel sorry for her, but I will not marry her.”
* * *
Emilie knockedon the door of the Queen Mother’s private rooms. She was nervous. The ladies-of-the-court had found her in the garden and told her the Queen Mother was angry and needed to see her.
“Come in,” Marie called.
“You wished to see me, Your Highness.” Emilie curtseyed and then held her hands in front of her to stop them from shaking. Marie did not seem angry now. Perhaps the ladies had been mistaken.
Marie examined Emilie from head-to-toe before speaking. “I understand that your father was impoverished at the time of his death. Do you understand this to be true?”
“I’m afraid so. I do not know how it happened.” Emilie was surprised that the Queen Mother would be unaware of this. It is not something her father would want to be public knowledge, but surely he told the Queen Mother when they met to arrange the betrothal.
“What of your dowry?” Marie asked. She held her hand out in front of herself and examined her nails as she waited for Emilie to answer.
“I don’t know anything about my dowry, Your Highness. I thought my father had arranged everything when he last visited the palace.” This wasn’t a topic that would have been discussed with her, and the Queen Mother knew that.
“I’m sorry to say that if we cannot find proof of a dowry, Matteo will not marry you.”
She certainly didn’t sound sorry, but her words did give Emilie some hope that she would not have to marry a man she didn’t love. “I see.” If the marriage did not take place, she wondered what would happen to her. Where would she go? Would Robert still want her after she’d pushed him away for what seemed the last time?
“We have postponed the wedding until we have our answers,” Marie stated.
“What will happen if I have no dowry?” Emilie asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. Her stomach was in knots and her knees were so weak she thought she might faint.
“That is something I must decide. You will be too poor to stay here at court.” She wandered to the window and gazed out onto the courtyard. “There is always the convent. Or I may be able to convince Barbieri that it is best that he marry you.” She turned to Emilie. “There is no point in making decisions until we have word from Bertrand. Go. I will call you when I know.”
Emilie left the room feeling several emotions all at one time. Excitement that she may not have to marry Matteo. Anxiety at not knowing what would become of her. Lastly, a small amount of hope built in her that she might be able to be with Robert.
Wandering outside to sit under her favorite chestnut tree, Emilie couldn’t help but be nervous about her future. As she sat trying to clear her mind, she noticed a horse speeding through the garden to the stable. Could it be Robert? She stood to get a better look. It was Robert. His stature, build and kilt were unmistakable even at a distance. She watched as he dismounted and put his horse away before heading back toward the palace. She dared not call to him as it would draw unwanted attention, but she hurried in his direction, practically running as she lifted her skirts.
Robert must have heard her as she ran because he turned to see her coming. He ran to meet her, taking her by the arm and guiding her away from the palace to a secluded spot in the garden they’d found months ago, by a copse of trees on the edge of a pond.
Their secret spot was filled with the sounds of insects buzzing, birds chirping and the leaves of the trees rustling as squirrels playfully hopped from branch to branch above their heads. It was a beautiful spot, but one that Emilie had avoided of late. She didn’t wish for her recent troubles to taint a spot that held such wonderful memories. Memories she’d made with Robert at a time before her betrothal.
“Robert I must speak to you,” Emilie said, out of breath from rushing to meet him.
“And I ye,” Robert answered.
“What is it?” Emilie asked, wanting to hear what he had to say before she bared her heart to him. The way he was looking at her made her heart beat a little faster. Her hand flew to her belly to quell the butterflies there.
“I cannae let ye go through with this Emilie. I love ye and I wish ye to be me wife.” The earnestness of his words touched her heart.
“I wish that as well, Robert.” Emilie was relieved. She hadn’t chased him away for good as she’d thought. He still wanted her to be his wife.
“I ken ye are to marry Barbieri, but we could run away together. We could go back to Scotland. They wouldnae come searching for us there.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.
“We may not need to go to such lengths. It may be that my father did not leave a dowry for me. Matteo does not wish to marry me without one. There will be no wedding today. The Queen Mother has decided we will wait until the papers from my father are found.”
A brilliant smile reached Robert’s eyes as he took her in his arms. “That is good news.”
“I am poor, Robert. I have nothing. Do you still want me?” Emilie had no idea what it meant to be poor and it frightened her, but if she had Robert she could face anything life brought her way.
His answer didn’t disappoint her. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Robert dipped his head, taking her lips in a tender kiss. Emilie wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his thick, dark curls. “I love you, Robert MacMillan.”
She felt Robert’s hands as they massaged her back, and then moved to cup her breasts. His kisses streamed down her neck and along her collarbone. Shivers of delight ran down her spine as he held her close, their bodies touching from head to toe. Through the many layers of her gown she could feel the hardness of his desire for her.
