Page 29 of Sense and Suitability
And with that, he pushed through the curtain, his footsteps following the pattern and direction of Mr. Rushing out the door.
Emme braced her hand against the wall, lowering her body to sit in the small window seat within her hiding spot. The murmur of distant voices and music seeped into the room, but she barely registered them.
“Let it alone,” he’d said. Emme pressed her palm against her chest and stood.Oh no.His avoidance only fueled her doubt. He’d called out the rumors too. Not giving them the validity of truth. Why? It might break her heart all over again, but letting it alone was the last thing she planned to do.
Chapter 6
Emmeline Lockhart was going to drive him mad!
Simon marched from the library, his neck still tense from holding Emme so close without succumbing to his rather rebellious thoughts.
For all his good intentions, he couldn’t seem to evade the woman. Each meeting tortured him anew with what he could not have—her scent, her conversation... and now the taste of those lips. An evening of uninteresting or completely inappropriate conversations from the most eligible of St. Groves’ ladies, coupled with a few dodges from less appealing suitors like Selena, had only made those few minutes sequestered behind a curtain with Emme feel like a dagger to his resolve.
He had to make a better effort at avoiding her, or his thinly held control might snap, and he’d find himself right back on the balcony, his lips against hers...
“Lord Ravenscross?”
God, help me.Who was this approaching? Tall, athletically built, dressed in the latest fashion. Hadn’t this been one of the suitors who occasionally danced with Emme, one of the few to earn her genuine smile?
Simon braced for the art of pretense.
The man had the most alarming green eyes—unsettlingly so—and his gaze flicked from Simon’s face to over his shoulder, back toward the library door. “I hadn’t expected to meetyouhere. I wassearching for...” His voice trailed off, then he shrugged nonchalantly. “Are you coming from the library, perchance?”
How to respond? Especially with Emme in there alone, and not knowing this man’s intentions. “The Ruthtons boast quite the collection. Always worth a perusal.”
Vague was best.
The man raised an eyebrow, sending another glance toward the door before focusing back on Simon. “Forgive me. We’ve not been introduced.” He offered a slight bow. “Thomas Bridges, the new rector of Greenleigh Chapel in Lemmingston.”
Simon paused. He’d just prayed for divine assistance, and here was a clergyman. Odd. Was God listening after all? Simon cast a look heavenward. He could use some divine intervention to save his family and his estate, and to find a suitable bride. So far, God had been silent. “I have heard of your arrival. How do you find St. Groves?”
“I’m enjoying the new situation.” His expression eased. “I find I prefer country living to the bustle of the city, and the quiet of the rectory to the busyness of town.”
Laughter erupted from the hallway leading to the ballroom.
“Quiet, is it?”
Mr. Bridges grinned, and he gestured back with his chin toward the way he’d come. “At therectory, but I must admit the enthusiasm of... welcome, especially from the single ladies, is unmatched here.”
Simon’s eyebrow arched. “Enthusiasm is one way to describe the battlefield of the ballroom. Tedious and infuriating are a few others.”
“Without a doubt, I can attest to those descriptions as well.” He chuckled. “The... vigor at which matrimony is pursued here”—he appeared to choose his words carefully, the glimmer in his eyes only proving he might choose differently but for sheer tact—“is truly astounding.”
“I have heard you meet the basic requirements of the ladies.”
Mr. Bridges’ brows rose. “And those are?”
“Male, alive, and able to provide a living?”
“Ah.” Mr. Bridges smoothed his palms down the front of his jacket and nodded. “As the third son, I’ve always been fond of low expectations, for I am certain to exceed them.”
Simon’s laugh burst out, surprising them both. “Better than the impossible expectations of the firstborn, I assure you. You will have much freer choice.”
Mr. Bridges’ attention snapped back to Simon, and then he grinned. “I’m in no hurry to be ensnared.” He placed a hand on his chest as if in pledge. “I apologize. Marriage is a holy affair, meant for the mutual enjoyment of all involved, of course.”
“Spoken like a dedicated clergyman.” Mr. Bridges’ ready wit set him apart from his predecessors, not that Simon had known a great many of them well enough to fully say.
“And I stand by it, my lord, especially when it proceeds in all the right ways between the right people.” There was a knowing look in his eyes. “With the mutual respect of both parties’ futures and reputations.”
