brambles made it difficult and her legs wouldn’t carry her. Her feet kept slipping. One briar whipped back upon her and left her arm beaded with blood. She cried out but he hadn’t heard.
Perhaps it was best that he hadn’t heard. He’d been going to kiss her. Hell knows what he’d have done if he’d seen her hurt.
No man had ever kissed her upon the lips. Darleston had looked at her and seen into her soul. He’d read the desire there, had been about to return it. If he hadn’t raised his hand first, he might even have captured her. Her heart sped a little at the thought. A knot of tension built in her womb. How wonderful that he recognised her desire, but he had to understand that she wasn’t like the society women he knew. She couldn’t be with him. She couldn’t love him in that way. Any passion would remain unrequited. Regardless of the desire she felt, she would never act upon it.
And yet she’d still about-turned and stumbled back to where she’d left him. There’d been no sense in her head, just as none resided there now. The sound of Lyle’s voice had spurred her forward. She’d known why he was there even before she spied the men together. She’d given Lyle permission. She had only herself to blame. But seeing them together like that … The details of what Lyle practised had never before troubled her thoughts.
Now they were her only thoughts.
‘Emma?’ Amelia’s shrill cry smashed the recollection apart. ‘Are you not well? You look ill. See, you’ve gone crimson and your skin is all blotched.’
Emma turned her head, but she could not see herself.
‘Please don’t be sick.’ Amelia wrung her hands. ‘Father won’t hear of me being amongst this company without you around as chaperone. He’ll send me to Aunt Maude’s.’
Shakily, Emma waved away the concern. ‘I’m fine. Just a little faint. Too much fresh air and not enough to eat. I’ll be right again in a moment.’ She staggered past Amelia and into the hallway.
‘Should I come up with you and help you dress?’ Her sibling shadowed her flight into the hall so closely that her presence added to Emma’s nervousness. Amelia craved affection. Like a lapdog she was always underfoot. She saw any sign of weakness as the perfect opportunity to snuggle up close. It wasn’t that Emma didn’t want to return her sister’s love, only that she couldn’t bear to expose herself in such a way again.
‘No, you go in to eat. I’ll be fine once I’m rested. Could you please apologise to Father for me? Tell him I have a headache. And ask if Mrs Dobs would be so kind as to send up a tray.’
‘Should I have her send up a tincture of something too?’
‘No, quiet will be remedy enough.’ She gave her sister a weak smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine again tomorrow. I won’t let Father send you to Aunt Maude.’ Then she hurried up the stairs before Amelia could follow. More than her head, her heart ached. And when she mulled over what she’d experienced her womb clenched tight too, as if her body intended to wring every ounce of feeling from the earlier encounter.
All afternoon she’d sat gazing into space waiting for either Lyle or Darleston to approach her. She hadn’t given dinner a thought. How foolish was she? Lord Darleston would be next to her at dinner, with Lyle directly opposite. There’d be no avoiding either of them. Oh, no. She couldn’t face them together like that, not in public where everyone would witness her embarrassment.
Hiding in their room wasn’t ideal, but at least only Lyle would seek her there.
* * *
Dinner calmed her a little, though she didn’t eat a lot. Lyle arrived while she was stirring a spoon around in the mashed-up remains of a lemon tart. He paused in the doorway a moment before sealing them within and striding forward.
‘Why are you hiding? Amelia says you have a sore head.’ He perched upon the foot of the bed, so that the tray of food formed a barrier between them.
She