Page 47 of Loving an Earl
Emmeline wrapped her arm through Lilly’s and whispered, “Redford appears quite taken with you.”
“Indeed. He is kind and considerate.”
“That doesn’t sound promising for the viscount.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“That is what someone might say about an acquaintance, not about a suitor. Do you feel anything for him?”
Lilly looked around and exhaled with relief that nobody was paying them any attention. “I’ve never been truly in love, even though I loved Henry. How do I know what to expect? How does one feel?”
Emmeline sighed. “I imagine it feels different for everyone. But for me, being in love is all-consuming. The one you love is all you think about day and night. When you least expect it, something they did makes you smile, or blush, or both. You daydream when you are meant to be doing something else. Your feet barely touch the ground. And at other times, they annoy and aggravate you so much you want to scream.” She shook her head and laughed softly. “You will know. That is all I can say. Even if you fight the feelings, eventually you won’t be able to.”
“Yes, well, I feel nothing resembling any of that for Redford, yet.” But one maddening gentleman’s face did flash in her mind—Langford. But it seemed he only wanted to marry her off to someone else, anyone else. She needed to transfer her feelings for Langford to Redford. Or anyone, really. Simple. Easy.
Tell that to her heart.
“Redford is handsome, though,” Emmeline whispered. “And he is not interested in anyone else but you as far as I can tell. He is a catch, and you could do so much worse.”
“He is a catch and I’m trying to give him the chance to win me over. I just need some time to get to know him better. If it doesn’t work out I still have time.”
“I suppose, in that respect, you are fortunate to be so young.” She paused and frowned. “Me, I’m running out of time if I want to have a family. If Blackstone won’t come up to snuff, I will become a lonely, childless old widow.” She blinked several times fast. “If I cry, I will hate myself.”
“Blackstone loves you. Anyone with vision can see it. Would you like me to nudge him along? I could pretend you have some handsome, rich new suitor to make him jealous, so he’ll stop shuffling his feet.”
Emmeline laughed, her hand going to her mouth to stifle it. “That might work.” She paused and her face fell. “Unless he bows out of the picture all together like he did with Aiden.”
“Never. It was different with Aiden—they were best friends. It would only work again if Langford or Caldwell loved you. Not if it was essentially a made-up suitor.”
“True. Do not look, but Blackstone and Redford are coming this way.”
“Ladies,” Blackstone said with a dip of his head.
“Blackstone,” Lilly said as she curtsied.
“Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” Blackstone said. “If I recall, you enjoy chess. Can I convince you to play a game?”
“Why, yes. I would like that.”
Lilly watched as Blackstone helped seat Emmeline at a table already set up for a chess match and then took the other seat opposite her. She squinted trying to see if she could recognize his love for Emmeline in his eyes. He was obviously guarding his emotions, because she couldn’t see the usual yearning.
“Would you like to take a stroll in the gardens, or at the very least step out onto the veranda for some fresh air?” Redford asked.
“Fresh air would be lovely.” She placed her hand on his forearm, and he led them out of the drawing room and down the hall.
“I have it on good authority that the library has doors opening onto a veranda and the gardens beyond.”
Her first inhale of crisp, fresh night air caused her body to quiver from the chill, and she was glad she’d had the foresight to grab her cloak from the butler. “The moon is beautiful tonight with the thin, wispy clouds moving by.”
“Yes. It is,” Redford agreed looking intently at her. He reached out, cupping her face with both his hands and turning her to him. “But you are more beautiful than the moon and the sky.” His eyes dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. The gray of his eyes darkened to near black. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since the night we met.”
Her lungs refused to work as she swallowed. “There is?”
“May I kiss you?”
Words escaped her as her heart beat a fast staccato. Before she analyzed her emotions too closely, she breathed out. “Yes.” She leaned forward, meeting him halfway as his soft lips made contact with hers. His kiss seemed nice. It was not the all-encompassing experience she had shared with Langford, the one where his tongue tasted her, and he devoured all she had to give. The viscount’s lips tasted of port and his breath smelled faintly of smoke.
He stepped back and dropped his hands. “Thank you.”
