Page 96 of Sense and Suitability
“Emme, forgive me.”
Her brow creased, and she took a deliberate step back. “I believe,” she said, her voice steady but with an undeniable quiver beneath the surface, “that particular conversation may not be the most fitting for me, my lord.” Her eyes held his for a heartbeat too long before darting to the ground. “But I am certain there is another lady more suited to it.”
No!
He couldn’t lose her again.
And at his own hand.
If only she knew what he intended, how he planned to resolve this madness. His family, his obligations—they would all fall into place soon enough. And then—then he could pursue Emme properly, without shame, without guilt.
But she didn’t know that, and he couldn’t tell her until there was some hope to offer.
“Emme,” he began, his voice rougher than he’d intended, “please don’t—”
“I’d better bid the two of you good day.” There was a finality in her words, a decision to retreat, and Simon hated it. “Perhaps Lottie can return at another time.” She glanced toward the cloudy sky. “But I believe we may have lost our opportunity today.”
The door to retreat was being closed—and she was locking him out.
He wanted to protest, to stay, to explain the confusion and the rush of emotions that had nearly made him act as a fool in front of her. But there was nothing he could do now except to accept it.
“I understand.” He paused, waiting for her attention to shift back to his. He had to promise something. “But Iwillattempt to remedy this. You have my word.”
“Emme, I’d wondered about his feelings from the start, but the ball last night and his behavior in town yesterday morning only proved my suspicions.” Thomas shook his head and sank into a nearby chair. “He is still in love with you.”
Oh, she knew. This afternoon in the garden had only proved it. Her face grew warm at the memory of how close his lips had come to hers, how gently those same lips had skimmed across the skin of her fingers.
And she, no less at fault than him. Hadn’t she all but begged him, in her silent way, to bridge the distance between them? His words as he departed to remedy things still echoed in her mind. Remedy what? His situation? Her heart, which had broken in so many pieces? Or perhaps it was his little sister, the budding matchmaker, who had forced this all into motion.
She tucked her dress around her as she drew her knees onto the window seat and looked away from Thomas, unwilling for him towitness the effect his declaration had on her. The way her heart had twisted with those very words he’d spoken.
And though she should have felt a sense of triumph at the knowledge Simon still cared for her, she couldn’t embrace it. Yes, knowing his heart had remained the same somehow confirmed her greatest hopes and worst fears. They were both as trapped as ever.
Simon’s needs and expectations hadn’t changed.
Her dowry and social status hadn’t changed.
“I know you may object,” Thomas continued, his voice a little too knowing, waving a hand as if to dismiss her likely protestations. “You may argue that the faithfulness of a man’s affections is of little importance in fiction, but I dare say, Emme, you must admit—that man’s heart may prove as constant as yours.”
If only that were cause for joy. If only it could be enough.
For heaven’s sake, they had nearly kissed in her garden.Kissed!
Reality doused the sweet flutterings the thought sparked. The prospect of loving him without any assurance, without any notion of securing her future, terrified her. If she loved him—if she truly loved him—and if she respected herself...
“I’m leaving, Thomas.” Her voice broke the silence, almost defiant as she wrapped her arms tighter around her knees. She met his gaze across the room. “I can’t stay.”
Thomas raised a brow. “That’s not usually the way romance goes, my dear cousin. Not to gain a happily ever after.”
“Youmustsee it.” Emme narrowed her eyes at him. “How can he have a happy ending if his estate is in jeopardy? And the more I’ve written this new story, the more I realize how I’ve been pouring my imagination into fantastical tales that failed to celebrate the simple, everyday choices—the decisions made for the good of those around us, not just for the breathtaking, pulse-pounding possibilities in some other realm.” She let out a long breath. “You were right. There areplenty of real-life moments that can make a story come to life in ways my other novels did not. Perhaps I’m meant to write those... and accept that future.”
Thomas moved beside her on the window seat, his gaze intense. “And perhaps you’re meant to do both.”
She leveled him with a glance. “His thoughts are clear on female writers. And with his family’s reputation already in disrepair, my little secret would only bring more scandal upon him and his family. I can’t do that to him.”
“Are you certain you are not underestimating his ability to accept you with your secrets as willingly as you have been to accept him?”
“It’s not the same thing.” She looked back out the window. “I am not a viscount or a man. And those two elements make all the difference.”
