Page 82 of Sense and Suitability
“I do. As I make the cottages habitable, I have every intention of filling them.” And a genuine smile spread across Simon’s face, not just at his own pride in his work, but in the welcome light in the rector’s face. He was a good sort. Blast it. “Thank you.”
“And your family?” Emme continued. “Are they still enjoying the strawberries?”
“Indeed, they are.” His body eased into the dialogue. “And Fia cannot stop singing Alfie’s praises.”
“They did become quick friends, didn’t they?”
His gaze paused in hers. She was beautiful. Absolutely. Thelight in those eyes, the turn of her chin. He couldn’t pull his attention away.
And then he realized in the middle of his adoration, Aster had taken Mr. Bridges’ arm at some point, and they’d begun walking along the pavement. Simon gestured forward to Emme, who fell into step beside him, her pace deliberately slower, as if inviting a more private exchange.
His pulse quickened. He shouldn’t want this. Neither should she.
And yet, if he could steal one more moment with her, he would. For however long it lasted.
For a few beats, they walked in companionable silence, the sound of their steps muted against the pavement. Emme’s hands tightened slightly on her reticule, and Simon wondered if she was deliberating her words as much as he was. It seemed too strange that he had so much he wanted to express, so many forbidden thoughts and feelings, and yet, he couldn’t.
Shouldn’t.
But they were nearly strangling him to get out.
Clearing his throat, he managed, “I... wanted to thank you for your recommendation of Miss Clayton.”
Brilliant, Simon. A masterful way to woo the woman you love—praise another.
Emme’s brows rose. “Truly?”
“You doubt me?”
Her lips twitched, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. “Well, appearances might suggest otherwise.”
“Is that so?” The sunlight danced across her golden hair, but it was the gleam of mischief in her gaze that truly held him. From the first time they’d met—when she’d teased him mercilessly in the Ruthtons’ library—she’d been utterly disarming.
She hadn’t known who he was... and she’d just been her charming self.
Unlike other women, who charmed with calculated poise, Emme’s wit struck like lightning, quick and natural. She was a force entirely her own.
And heaven help him, how could he marry anyone else?
“How very... observant of you.”
One corner of her mouth edged a little higher as she stared up at him and then laughed, shaking her head as she did so. “Was I so obvious?”
“Painfully,” he shot back. “Especially with those theater glasses of yours.”
And then, to his own surprise, he laughed. Not a polite chuckle or a restrained smile, but an unguarded, genuine laugh—the kind he hadn’t indulged in for far too long. His body relaxed, his burdens momentarily forgotten in the comfort of their familiar banter. “I believe some training in covert skills would be in order.”
“Indeed.” She glanced ahead as they continued their walk, the distance between them and Mr. Bridges with Aster widening. “But how could I help it? The play was diverting enough, but I confess your performance was far more compelling than the actors on the stage.”
“My performance?”
“Between your rather uninspired courting of Miss Clayton and the grand scene with Miss Hemston during intermission...”
“Your theater glasses extended all the way to the lobby during intermission?”
Her smile dropped wide and she looked away, a bloom deepening her cheeks again. “I took a stroll, as many others did, to refresh myself after sitting so long.”
“And just happened to witness my exchange with Miss Hemston?”
