Page 50 of Choosing Her Earl at Last
Tears sprang to Emmeline’s eyes, slipping silently down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she breathed, brushing them away so that the others would not see her weeping.
“I did not intend to upset you,” he apologized, handing her another of his handkerchiefs.
“It is quite all right.” Emmeline brushed his apology aside. “It is good to speak thusly with one another.”
“Tell me,” Michael requested, his tone leaving the choice entirely up to her but letting her know that he was interested in her life if she wished to share.
Taking a deep breath, Emmeline attempted to steady her emotions. “My marriage to Norman was a cold and distant affair. There was never any love between us.”
They looked at one another, their eyes holding in the most intimate moment, when suddenly, as if out of nowhere, the skies opened up and a heavy rain began to fall.
As one, the five of them raced for the manor house. Emmeline and Michael stood on the threshold, dripping water on the floor as they watched the rain wash away any possible evidence that might have remained as to how the thieves had gained access to the library.
“My lord,” the estate manager greeted Michael at the door. “I have assembled the staff for questioning.”
Michael nodded, then turned his eyes to Emmeline. “Do you wish to join me?”
Emmeline shook her head. “I trust that you will get any information that might be needed. I do not wish for your staff to suffer the indignity of having an outsider question their loyalty.”
“As you wish.” Michael smiled softly at her consideration, inclined his head in respectful departure, then followed his estate manager toward the kitchens below.
Emmeline watched him walk away, the rest of their party having already retired to change out of their wet clothes; then she turned and walked back out into the rain. Concern for her father’s treasure drove her forward through the torrential storm.
While she and Louisa had not dug it up yet, they had marked the location to come back to when everyone else was asleep. Nowthe rain was going to wash away the sign, and she would have to start all over again to find the exact spot in the daylight, delaying her digging efforts.
I should have used something more than a pile of dirt and a stick to mark the spot!
The rain had seemed to come out of nowhere and was now pouring down with fierce fury. Lighting flashed across the sky, causing Emmeline to crouch down to the ground so as not to be the tallest thing around.
God, do not strike me down before I am able to save my sister!
Emmeline scurried along the ground, staying low until she reached the area where she thought she had left the marker. The dirt pile had already turned into mud and was quickly washing away. The stick had fallen from its perch and was being beaten into the mud.
Emmeline grabbed the stick and drove it down hard into the ground. She took another stick and did the same, gathering as many sticks as she could reach from her kneeling position beside the place where the map had led her to, and drove stick after stick into the ground, until it encircled the spot where she intended to dig.
Soaked through to the bone, Emmeline scurried beneath a grove of trees, taking refuge beneath the leaf-covered branches.Shivering, she stared out at the tiny wooden fort to make certain that the storm did not decimate it. When she was certain that it would hold, she ran back out through the rain toward the manor house.
As she reentered the garden, she was not paying attention to what lay ahead of her, focusing more on where she placed her feet so that she did not trip and fall. Suddenly, she found herself slamming into something warm, wet, and solid. She looked up to find Michael, standing in the rain, dripping wet, concern in his eyes.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, examining her face as if she had lost her mind with fever.
“I was not ready to be inside just yet,” she muttered, the unexpected encounter throwing her off balance.
Michael reached out and held her up so that she did not fall into the mud at their feet. They stood there, holding one another, soaked through, rain dripping down their skin.
“Why?” Michael breathed, just barely loud enough for her to hear him.
“I like it outside. Being here reminds me of our childhood days running about and playing together,” she answered, frowning up at him in confusion.Does he suspect what I was doing? Does he know where I was?
Michael shook his head. “No, I am not referring to your being out of doors. I am asking, why did you forsake our love and marry another man?”
Emmeline’s heart felt as if it had dropped down to her stomach. “Michael, I…” she began, shaking her head and pulling away, but Michael held her firm.
“Why, Emmeline? I need to know. It is time.” His eyes bore into hers with such an intensity that Emmeline felt she might melt away with the rain and flow away.
Somehow, Emmeline summoned the courage to face the conversation that she had been avoiding for over five years. “My parents arranged the marriage without my knowledge or consent. I did not know that I was going to be wed until I stood at the altar. It was the most unsettling turn of events that I had ever experienced up to that point in my life.
I was in such a state of shock that all I could do was obey when my parents told me that I must marry the Marquess of Worthington or that our family would be ruined. If I refused, they were going to marry Rebecca to him. I saw the cold, hard heart of the man before me, and I could not consign my sister to such a fate.”
