Chapter Six
The morning dawned cold, crisp and bright, with just enough lingering frost to make the gardens sparkle. Emma stood on the terrace with the other house party guests, trying not to be hyperaware of Lord Limnwood’s presence nearby. After a largely sleepless night spent reliving their almost-kiss in the music room, she felt oddly brittle, as if the slightest touch might shatter her composure completely.
“For today’s entertainment,” the Duke announced, clearly enjoying his role as master of ceremonies, “we have something similar to yesterday morning’s activity, but with a twist. We have arranged a series of riddles leading to various treasures hidden throughout the gardens. Each pair must solve their own unique set of clues, but the paths may cross. The first couple to collect all of their clues, reach their treasure and return here will be celebrated at tonight’s dinner.” Emma felt Lord Limnwood shift slightly beside her. She kept her eyes firmly on the Duke. “To ensure fair play,” the Duke continued, “each couple’s clues will be marked with their assigned colour. Taking another couple’s clue will result in immediate disqualification.” His eyes twinkled. “Though offering assistance to those who seem... confused... is perfectly acceptable.”
Emma’s lips curved slightly, remembering Lord Limnwood’s disapproval of her helping young Lord Henry yesterday. She wondered what he made of the Duke’s tacit approval of such kindness.
“Your first clues await you on the table. When the bell sounds, you may begin.”
Lord Limnwood’s hand touched her elbow lightly.
“Shall we examine our clue, Miss Everton?”
His touch, though perfectly proper, sent warmth spreading through her entire body. She managed a nod, following him to where several sealed envelopes lay arranged on a small table. Each bore a couple’s names in the Duke’s elegant hand.
“The blue ribbons are ours, it seems.” He broke the seal and unfolded the paper within. “‘Where wisdom takes flight, seek the guardian’s sight.’ What do you make of that?”
Emma welcomed the distraction of a puzzle.
“Wisdom... Minerva’s symbol was the owl, was it not?”
“Indeed.” His voice warmed with approval. “And, apart from the owl we found in the temple folly, I believe that I saw a stone owl mounted above the entrance to the maze, yesterday.”
“The maze?”
Emma’s heart quickened. The maze would be very private at this time of year, with the hedges still thick with winter growth... The bell rang before she could follow that dangerous line of thought.
“Shall we?”
Lord Limnwood offered his arm. She placed her hand on his coat sleeve, trying to ignore how the simple touch affected her.
“You’re not worried that I might suggest something improper? Like helping other contestants?”
His steps faltered slightly.
“I... may have been overly rigid in my views yesterday.”
Emma’s breath caught at this admission.
“May have been?”
“The Duke’s words about assistance being acceptable... they reminded me that kindness need not compromise propriety.”
She snuck a glance at his face, but his expression gave nothing away. Still, something in his voice suggested that more had changed than just his view on helping other contestants. They reached the maze entrance, where a magnificent stone owl perched above the archway. Its carved eyes seemed to follow them as they searched the area.
“There!” Emma pointed to a flash of blue ribbon visible in a nearby urn set on a wall. “Though I don’t see how we can reach it without...”
Before she could finish, Lord Limnwood had moved to the urn and lifted her bodily by the waist. She gasped, her hands falling to his shoulders for balance.
“Can you reach it now?”
His voice was slightly strained. Emma stretched up, trying to ignore how his hands burned through the fabric of her pelisse, how his breath had stirred the curls at her temple as he lifted her. Her fingers closed around the ribbon.
“I have it!”
He lowered her slowly, their bodies sliding almost together in a way that surely violated every rule of propriety. For a moment after her feet touched the ground, neither moved. Emma became exquisitely aware of every point where they touched - his hands at her waist, her palms against his shoulders, their faces close enough that she could see gold flecks in his grey eyes.
“The next clue?”
His voice was rougher than usual.
Emma forced herself to step back, untying the ribbon with trembling fingers. Another piece of paper fluttered free.
“‘Where Neptune’s daughters dance, seek the heart of romance.’” She was proud of how steady she kept her voice. “The fountain with the mermaids, perhaps?”
“An excellent suggestion.” He offered his arm again, though she noticed that he was careful to maintain more distance between them now. “Though we shall have to go around the lake to reach it.”
They walked in charged silence, both hyperaware of each other. Emma’s skin still tingled where his hands had held her. Ahead, she could see other couples searching their own areas - Lord James and Lady Beatrice examining a sundial, Lady Mary and her partner studying something near the greenhouse.
A flash of movement caught her eye.
“Look there - a blue ribbon!”
She hurried forward, not seeing the patch of ice near the lake’s edge. Her foot slipped, and for a heart-stopping moment she felt herself falling towards the freezing water. Then strong arms caught her, pulling her back against a solid chest. They stumbled together, and somehow she found herself pressed between Lord Limnwood and a tree trunk, his body sheltering her from view of the path.
“Are you hurt?”
His voice was barely a whisper against her hair. Emma shook her head, not trusting her voice. Every nerve in her body sang with awareness of him - the strength of his arms around her, the rapid beat of his heart against her palm, the warmth of his breath stirring her curls where a few escaped from their pins. She should step away. She should thank him properly and continue their hunt. She should... His hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to his. Their eyes met, and Emma saw her own longing reflected in his gaze.
“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, even as she swayed closer.
“No.” But his thumb brushed her lower lip, and she felt him tremble. “Emma...”
The use of her given name undid her completely. She lifted up on her toes, closing the last distance between them, and felt his control break. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that stole her breath, and she gave herself up to the kiss completely.
Time seemed to stop in that moment - there was nothing but the warmth of his mouth on hers, the strength of his arms around her, the solid trunk of the tree at her back. Emma’s hands curled into the fabric of his coat, holding on as the world tilted beneath her feet. It was only a few short moments, but it felt like forever, as if time had stopped.
A sharp gasp broke through their absorption. They sprang apart as if burned, but Emma knew it was too late - Lady Anne stood on the path, her expression a mixture of shock and triumph.
“Well,” Lady Anne’s voice dripped ice, “how... interesting. Though perhaps not surprising, given recent displays.”
Emma felt Lord Limnwood stiffen beside her. Her heart plummeted as his familiar mask of rigid propriety slammed back into place.
“Lady Anne.” His voice was perfectly controlled. “Miss Everton nearly fell. I was merely...”
“Merely?” Lady Anne’s laugh held no humour. “I saw exactly what you were ‘merely’ doing, my Lord. Though I confess, I had thought better of you than to engage in such behaviour. But then,” her gaze raked Emma dismissively, “some people do have a talent for encouraging impropriety.”
Emma’s cheeks burned, but she lifted her chin.
“You seem very concerned with other people’s behaviour, Lady Anne. How fortunate that you happened to be in exactly the right place to observe it.”
Lady Anne’s eyes narrowed at the implied accusation.
“I was simply following my own clues. Though perhaps I should inform Lady Agatha that her charge requires closer supervision?”
“That will not be necessary.” Lord Limnwood’s voice was arctic. “As I said, Miss Everton nearly fell. I prevented an accident. Nothing more.”
Nothing more. The words struck Emma like physical blows. She stepped away from both of them, straightening her pelisse with hands that shook only slightly.
“Indeed,” she managed. “How fortunate that you were there to prevent disaster, my Lord. Though perhaps we should continue our hunt separately? Since if Lady Anne is to be believed, clearly we cannot be trusted to maintain proper behaviour when alone together, even out here, with many other couples around us, all able to see us.”
She saw him flinch at her tone, but she simply handed him the ribbons and notes that they had found so far, and turned away. He made no move to stop her as she walked, her back straight, her steps measured, making her way towards the house, dignity the only shield she had left. Behind her, she heard Lady Anne’s voice, honey-sweet with false concern.
“Such a shame when people forget their proper place, is it not? Though perhaps it’s for the best that such... tendencies are discovered early, before any lasting damage is done.”
Emma’s vision blurred with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She had been a fool to think that one kiss - one moment of perfect connection - could overcome Lord Limnwood’s rigid propriety. Worse, she had given Lady Anne exactly the weapon she needed to destroy any chance of understanding between them.
A rustle in the shrubbery beside her made her jump, but it was only Lord James, emerging from what appeared to be a deeply frustrating search for his own clues. Lady Beatrice was some distance away, also looking about in the bushes near a path.
“Miss Everton!” His smile faded as he saw her face. “What has my fool of a brother done now?”
“Nothing that was not entirely mutual, I assure you.” She managed a wan smile. “Though perhaps you might tell him that Lady Anne’s triumph need not be complete? I have no intention of spreading tales about his... lapse in judgment.”
Understanding dawned in Lord James’ eyes.
“Ah. She saw something, did she? That explains why she looked so pleased with herself when she passed me a moment ago.” He studied Emma’s face. “Though I suspect that what she saw was less a lapse in judgment than a moment of honest feeling?”
Emma’s breath caught.
“It hardly matters now.”
“Doesn’t it? Tell me, Miss Everton - do you truly believe my brother’s rigid propriety is his natural state? Or might it be armour against exactly this sort of situation?”
“I...” She hesitated. “Your brother made his position quite clear.”
“Did he? Or did he react exactly as he always does when threatened - by retreating behind his walls?” Lord James’ voice gentled. “Give him time. He may surprise you yet.”
Before Emma could respond, Lady Beatrice came hurrying up the path.
“Lord James! I’ve found the most peculiar clue... oh!” She stopped short at sight of Emma. “Dear heaven, what’s happened? You look quite pale!”
“The morning’s activities proved somewhat overwhelming,” Emma managed. “I believe I shall retire to my room for a while.”
“But the treasure hunt...”
“I fear Lord Limnwood will have to complete it alone.” Emma’s voice wavered slightly. “Though given his dedication to proper behaviour, I’m sure that he will manage admirably.”
She turned away before either could respond, but not before she caught the look that passed between them - concern from Beatrice, and something that might have been anger from Lord James. Let them think what they would. She had her own feelings to manage.
The house seemed very far away. Each step required all of her concentration, lest she give in to the urge to run, or worse, to turn back. To find him. To demand... what? That he choose her over propriety? That he risk scandal for love?
Love.
The word stopped her in her tracks.
When had this happened? How had she let herself fall in love with a man who valued society’s rules over the heart’s truth?
“Miss Everton?”
She looked up to find the Duke watching her with genuine concern.
“Your Grace.” She managed a curtsey. “I fear I’m not feeling quite the thing. Might I be excused from the remainder of the hunt?”
“Of course, my dear.” His keen eyes missed nothing. “Though perhaps you might permit an old man an observation?” She nodded, not trusting her voice. “The truly valuable treasures in life are rarely found by following maps and clues.” He smiled gently. “Sometimes one must simply trust one’s heart to lead the way.”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears.
“Even when it leads to disaster?”
“Especially then.” He patted her hand. “Rest now. But don’t give up hope entirely. Even the most rigid tree may bend in the right wind.”
She watched him walk away, his words echoing in her mind. Trust her heart? Her heart had led her straight into the one situation she had sworn to avoid - falling in love with a man who could never put feelings before proper behaviour.
Though the memory of his kiss suggested that perhaps proper behaviour wasn’t quite as important to him as he claimed.
*****
Nathaniel stood rooted to the spot long after Emma disappeared up the path, his hands clenched at his sides. Every fibre of his being urged him to follow her, to explain, to... what? Apologise for the kiss? He wasn’t sorry. To apologise for denying it? That shame would haunt him far longer than any scandal might have done. But how else could he have protected her reputation?
“Really, Lord Limnwood,” Lady Anne’s voice grated on his already raw nerves, “you needn’t look so distressed. I’m sure that we can prevent any... unfortunate gossip from spreading.”
He turned to face her, suddenly seeing with perfect clarity what his brother had been trying to tell him about her.
“And how do you propose to do that, Lady Anne? By spreading your own version first?”
She blinked at his tone.
“I merely meant...”
“I know exactly what you meant. Just as I know that you did not come upon us by accident.” The words emerged cold and precise. “How long did you follow us before making your presence known?”
A flash of guilt crossed her face before she recovered.
“I’m sure that I don’t know what you mean. I was simply concerned...”
“About maintaining proper behaviour? How fascinating that your concern for propriety extends to stalking other guests through the gardens.”
“I would never...” She drew herself up. “Really, my Lord, I begin to see why you were so drawn to Miss Everton. You share her tendency to dramatise situations.”
“No, Lady Anne. Miss Everton and I share something far more important - honesty.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “So let me be perfectly honest with you. If I hear one word - one whisper - against Miss Everton’s reputation, I will ensure that society learns exactly how you spend your time at house parties. I doubt many would find such behaviour proper.”
Her face went pale.
“Are you threatening me?”
“Merely being honest. Good day, Lady Anne.”
He strode away, his mind churning. He had protected Emma’s reputation - or tried to - but at what cost? The memory of her face when he’d denied their kiss... he had seen something break in her eyes.
“I trust that you’re pleased with yourself?”
He turned to find James watching him, arms crossed.
“What would you have had me do? Allow Lady Anne to spread scandal about Emma’s behaviour?”
“Ah, so it’s Emma now, is it?” James’ voice held no humour. “Tell me, brother, did you even consider simply acknowledging your feelings? Standing up to Lady Anne’s spite with truth rather than denial?”
“And risk ruining her?”
“The only one risking her ruin is you - by making her doubt herself. By making her think that you’re ashamed of caring for her.”
The words struck home.
“I’m not ashamed...”
“Aren’t you? Then why deny what happened? Why not simply say that yes, you kissed her, and that anyone who objects can go hang?”
“Because that’s not how society works! There are rules...”
“Rules that matter more than her heart? Than yours?” James shook his head. “You know, for all your fear of Emma being like Charlotte, you’re the one behaving exactly as our cousin did – until you helped her see the truth of a man who truly loved her. You are letting fear of scandal override truth and love.”
Nathaniel staggered as if struck.
“That’s not...”
“Isn’t it? Charlotte let fear of an arranged marriage drive her into the arms of a fortune hunter. You’re letting it drive you away from the woman you love.” James’ voice gentled slightly. “Though I will say one thing for you - at least you managed to threaten Lady Anne properly. I heard that part.”
“You were listening?”
“Of course I was listening. Someone had to make sure that you didn’t make an even bigger cake of yourself.” James clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, what do you intend to do about the mess you’ve made?”
Nathaniel stared up at the house, where he could just see Emma’s figure disappearing inside.
“I don’t know.” His voice roughened. “But I do know that I cannot lose her. Not like this.”
“Well, that’s a start.” James smiled slightly. “Though you might want to work out the rest before dinner. I suspect that facing her across the table while pretending that nothing happened will be rather uncomfortable.”
Nathaniel’s hands clenched as he remembered how she had felt in his arms, the softness of her mouth under his, the way that she had trusted him completely in that moment before Lady Anne’s intrusion.
He had betrayed that trust. Somehow, he had to find a way to earn it back.
The only question was whether she would give him the chance.
*****
Emma had managed to claim a megrim, and avoid the afternoon’s flower arranging activity, but Beatrice had come to see her in her room in the break while everyone was dressing for dinner, concern filling her face.
“Emma! Are you recovered at all? You do still look pale. And you must tell me what really happened this morning. Lord Limnwood dutifully found all of the treasures that were marked for you, and he even finished faster than any of the other couples!”
Emma shook her head.
How absolutely typical that Lord Limnwood’s response to that devastating moment when Lady Anne had come upon them was to be perfectly proper and complete the task at hand. But then a thought came to her, and despite herself, she gave Beatrice a conspiratorial smile.
“Perhaps I’ll tell you – but later. First, you must tell me about the flower arranging tasks – How skilled did Lord Limnwood turnout to be, with flowers?”
Beatrice laughed, shaking her head.
“Sadly, the flower arranging has been postponed to tomorrow afternoon – although I think that Lord Limnwood was rather relieved at that – I suspect that he was dreading such a task without your assistance. And certainly, if we had continued he would have had to face dealing with Lady Anne, whilst she interfered and annoyed him at every chance she got. I can’t imagine that it would have gone any other way.”
“Oh my! The poor man, I can imagine his dread. No one deserves the ‘delights’ of Lady Anne’s attentions…”