Page 14 of To Marry and to Meddle
But keeping constant company with him had more or less ensured that she did not receive a marriage proposal from anyone else, either.
And yet here she was, with a husband.
How on earth were her mother and father going to react?
Hopefully she would beat the news home—she’d like to break it herself, rather than face the reaction of two very irate parents.
The door opened again, and she glanced up—Julian walked in, followed by a couple of boys bearing their luggage, and maids who hastily set about refilling the copper tub before departing.
“I take it Humphreys and Hollyhock made it safely?” she asked, watching Julian hand a coin to each boy once they’d set the trunks at the foot of the bed and departed.
“They did,” Julian agreed. “I’ve also heard from Reeve that we’ll be able to have the axle repaired tomorrow morning, but it will delay us by at least half a day, if not more.”
“Oh,” she said, thinking a bit anxiously of the aforementioned irate parents that she would have to face sooner or later. She had a feeling thatsoonerwould likely be less painful thanlater.
Julian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I was hopingto make good time back to London,” he said with some frustration. “I don’t like being away for too long, and I’ve already lingered in the countryside considerably longer than I planned to.”
“Because of me?” Emily asked hesitantly, feeling a wave of utterly illogical guilt wash through her as she recalled him mentioning soon after his arrival at Elderwild that he did not intend to stay for the full duration of the house party. It was ridiculous to feel guilty, she told herself sternly—she had hardly forced Julian to remain at Elderwild. But the fact was, he had lingered solely for the purpose of courting her, and she’d therefore prevented him from returning to his regular life sooner. She could feel something within her shrinking in horror at the thought of inconveniencing someone, especially someone who had already done her a rather large favor.
One involving wedding vows, in fact.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving a lazy hand.
“But if I held you up—”
“You didn’t,” he said simply. “Or, rather, it was me holding myself up—I didn’t have to propose to you, after all. You hardly held a gun to my head.”
“Quite the opposite, I should think,” she said, resisting the temptation to cross her arms over her chest defensively.
“I know,” he agreed. “It was part of the fun.”
“Oh,” she said, not knowing what else to say. She was very conscious of the fact that she owed an enormous amount to this man, who had… rescued her.
It sounded silly even to think it, and yet was it not true? Hadn’t he rescued her—from her parents, from Mr. Cartham, from the life she’d resigned herself to?
“You look guilty,” he said, sounding confused. It was somewhatentertaining to hear him sound confused—the suave, rakish Julian Belfry always seemed in command of every room he entered. Confusion didn’t suit him.
But Emily liked it all the same.
“I don’t like to inconvenience people,” she said by way of explanation, which was something of an understatement. She had spent years of her life twisting herself into knots to ensure that she was doing exactly what was expected of her, precisely what other people needed her to do.
“We’re married,” he said, the confusion in his voice slipping into amusement in the space of a moment. “I think it inevitable that at some point over the next fifty years, we’ll inconvenience each other.”
Fifty years.
Emily could not imagine being married for fifty years—though such an outcome was, of course, vastly preferable to any of the other possibilities (namely, scandal or widowhood or death).
“I suppose you’re right,” she said ruefully. “I just don’t wish to be a bother—not when you’ve done me such a favor.”
Something darkened in his gaze at that, even though on the surface his calm expression did not alter in the slightest. But there was a certain look in his eyes, a shifting of mood, that she’d never seen before. And before she could fully register it, he was in motion, eliminating the space between them with long strides, drawing to a halt with only inches left between them.
“A favor,” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Is that what you think I’ve done?”
“Well,” she faltered.
“Because I view it a bit differently,” he continued before she even had a chance to reply. He reached out a hand and trailed a single fingerdown her cheek, her skin prickling everywhere he touched. His hand came to rest on the curve of her neck, the weight of it somehow both comforting and electrifying at the same time.
“We both stood to gain something from this marriage,” he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. “And now that it’s done, I think we both stand to enjoy ourselves quite a bit.”
