Chapter 38
Beau had remained with her until her eyelids had grown heavy, although they were mostly silent after his near declaration, with Emerald too mired in her own thoughts and excitement to string together a coherent thought, and Beau content to just sit and stare at her. But when she fell asleep, it was with a small smile on her lips and her hand in his.
When she woke, her body was fatigued, but not her spirits, and she was determined to go down for breakfast, readying with extra care. She checked her appearance not once or twice but three times before leaving her room, wishing each time for some colour on her pale countenance and darting a critical glance at Gwen, who tried and failed to hide her giddy amusement.
Once outside the breakfast parlour, Emerald ran a hand over her skirts before nodding to the footman to open the door. The breath she sucked in quivered, and the smallest knot tied itself in her stomach as she stepped over the threshold.
‘Good morning, Em. How pretty you look! Not at all like someone so recently injured.’
Louisa’s sweet, flippant compliment did nothing to stem the dismay welling in Emerald’s chest upon seeing Lou, and only Lou, down for breakfast. She made a plate, but did little more than push the ham round the china and stare at her buttered toast piled with jam.
‘I wasn’t certain you’d be down, but in case you were…’ Louisa reached over to the empty chair next to her and, from under the table, pulled a little box with a fine bow tied round it. ‘It was impossible for me to choose between two things, so you may have one now and one later,’ added Louisa in mock strictness as she rose to hand Emerald the gift. ‘Happy birthday, Emerald. I am not happy for the circumstances that brought you to us, but I am certain I am happier with you in my life.’ Louisa punctuated her sentiment with a kiss on Emerald’s cheek and a demand that she open her gift.
Emerald was quite moved and felt the pricking of tears at the backs of her eyes, blinking rapidly to clear them away. ‘You are too kind to me and too sweet for this world,’ she said, tugging the tail of the bow. The box was small, no bigger than her hand, and had very little weight to it. Rather than speculate, Emerald pulled the top from the bottom and gasped in genuine surprise. Inside, nestled in a little bed of silk, was a delicate strand of pearls.
‘Louisa, what have you done? This is much too fine a gift for me to accept.’
‘Pah. It’s what I’d get a sister, and what are you if not that?’
Emerald shook her head and pressed her palms to her eyes.
‘Oh goodness, what have I said?’ cried Louisa, wrapping her in an embrace.
‘You’ve only been the most outrageously dear creature,’ replied Emerald, regaining her composure. ‘Whatever else you purchased, I hope you can return it. This is already too much. I cannot believe your mama let you be so extravagant.’
‘Of course you can,’ Louisa replied with a little giggle. ‘But it wasn’t her who took me shopping. It was Beau. We went one day last week while you paid calls with Mama.’
Emerald blinked at this information, not quite sure she had heard correctly. ‘Your brother?’
‘You know more than one Beau?’
‘Of course not. I—I am just surprised, that’s all.’
Louisa had returned to her own seat and was busy cutting her slice of ham when she spoke. ‘He’s got quite the refined eye. When I was struggling to choose between this necklace and the bracelet, it was his idea to simply get both, reasoning both would flatter you in equal measure, and to leave one behind would be a crime to your beauty.’
She blushed. ‘He never said as much.’
‘You’re right,’ replied Louisa, lifting a forkful of eggs. ‘He was far more eloquent.’
‘I thought perhaps we might see him this morning.’
At this, Louisa lifted her gaze, her mouth going still like she’d forgotten about the food she was chewing. ‘Hm.’ It was the most she could say without being able to speak. But her sparkling eyes, and the smile she fought to control lest she reveal her mouthful of breakfast, said plenty.
Emerald had thought to ask where he was but reconsidered under Louisa’s assessing stare. She sipped her coffee, pushed her eggs from one side of the plate to the other, and finally excused herself from the table.
She took the long way to her room, passing the library, the music room, the study, the billiards room. If Beau was at home, the only place remaining in which she might find him was his bedchamber. The door, however, was closed. Even if it had been open, it was not as if she would push in and demand a proposal.
It had been silly to think he would waste no time in securing her hand. If that were even what he wished to do. The night before, she’d felt so sure of it, but the longer the day drew on without sight or sound of his person, the more confused Emerald became.
Emerald walked into the music room but couldn’t sit on the bench without thinking of the evening before, and so left to take a turn in the garden. The air was cool, and she hadn’t brought her gloves outside. She looked to the windows of the library, feeling for a moment as though someone was watching her. No one was there, and she retreated inside once more, passing the library once again on her way to her chambers.
She couldn’t continue to haunt the corridors like some spectre, so took a seat at the little writing table in her room and stared at the window until Gwen came in to help her ready for dinner.
The maid had set out Emerald’s new dress, a champagne-coloured silk gown overlayed with an ivory gauze intricately embroidered with spangles and pearls and tiny crystals, which caught the light at every angle. Emerald wore her new necklace from Louisa, and Gwen used diamond pins to keep Emerald’s black curls in place.
The lady’s maid sighed when she stepped back. ‘Oh, miss. I’ve never seen such a sight. You look like an angel.’
‘Thank you, Gwen. But I must give you all the credit.’
Gwen waved this comment away and retreated to the dressing room to hang Emerald’s day dress, leaving Emerald to study herself in the mirror. This was what she had always dreamed of as a little girl: the beautiful gowns and jewels and an elegant townhouse in the fashionable part of London. And yet, she still felt something was missing. Knew it to be so.
Lady Avon had organised a small family affair with all of Emerald’s favourites for her birthday. They would no longer cross the square after dinner for a ball at the Duke and Duchess of Hazelhurst’s home, but Emerald had assured the dowager she was robust enough to dine as planned. She was the only one present in the drawing room when Emerald entered before dinner. Lady Avon complimented Emerald on her appearance and gave her a beautiful leatherbound copy of her favourite book and a pair of stunning diamond and pearl drop earrings.
‘Your husband will buy you all the jewels you could wish for, but I am happy to help you begin your collection,’ the dowager stated with a pat of Emerald’s hand and satisfied inspection of the earrings that Emerald had just donned.
Louisa entered a moment later, and the dowager rose. ‘It’s just us for dinner. Beau wrote of some business keeping him.’
Emerald swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She had attained her majority and was free to do as she pleased, as was he. To her mind, there was no other explanation for his absence: He regretted his noble speech, his actions at the masquerade, and everything he’d done after.
Every course had been planned with Emerald in mind, and she made a credible show of savouring her favourites and keeping up with the discussion happening around her, or so she hoped. Each time the door opened, Emerald held her breath, only to release a disappointed sigh when it was a footman there to carry a new dish in or a dirty plate out.
The table was cleared of the main dishes and the tablecloth, and Wallace set out the dessert service along with elegant crystal flutes he filled with champagne. At the head of the table, a footman set a fourth plate, and Emerald stared at it so hard it might have shattered from the force of her gaze. The door opened, and the wild beat of her heart told her it was him.
Beau stood at the threshold, outfitted in the aubergine coat he’d worn the night of the masquerade, and her heart jumped from her chest to her stomach and back again. He greeted them, then went to stand behind his chair at the head of the table and raised the champagne glass the butler had handed to him.
‘To Emerald.’
‘To you, dearest,’ echoed the dowager.
‘You look beautiful tonight.’ One corner of his mouth tipped with a sensuous lilt, and his vivid eyes were full of appreciation, adoration, assurance.
Emerald sucked in a bottomless breath, awed by his candour. The words made her feel pulled open, like he could see through her pale dress and straight down to the muscle, sinew, and marrow that was sewn together to make her who she was.
Her cheeks flamed, and her head dropped, the only safe place to look being the empty plate set before her. When she once more felt in control of herself, she lifted her face. In the centre of the table sat a large white cake topped with wild strawberries. She knew that when she took a bite, a hint of rhubarb would prickle her tongue. Her lip quivered, and she was terrified to look at Beau, to come undone at the table.
‘Happy birthday, Emerald.’
His voice, so soft, so earnest, was more than Emerald could bear. She brought her napkin up to cover her face, insensible to Lady Avon ushering Louisa out of the room, insensible to Beau coming to her side, insensible to everything except this one little gesture that broke her in two.
‘What’s all this, my brave love?’
She felt the napkin being pried from her hands and her hands from her face. When she opened her eyes, the only thing she saw was Beau kneeling in front of her, looking at her with such concern she swallowed convulsively to avoid another outburst.
‘I don’t understand. After last night, I thought— But then today, you’ve avoided me all day—and, and now the cake, the coat. You haven’t said a word about the masquerade.’ She sniffled and stammered through her incoherent speech, all the while unsure if she wanted to pull her hands from his or fling herself into his embrace.
‘You didn’t think I’d called you into the sunroom simply to tell you it was one of my favourites, did you? The moment I saw you in the foyer, resplendent in that blue dress, I couldn’t keep away. Only my plans to speak with you were interrupted. And I have not been avoiding you. It took me until about an hour ago to come up with enough wild strawberries to cover the top of your cake. No little feat, that, in the city in early spring. There was another little errand as well,’ he said, removing a small box from his coat pocket. He opened it, revealing the most magnificent emerald ring she’d ever seen. The stone was the deep green of oakmoss and set between two glittering diamonds.
She slipped from her chair and onto the ground in front of him, her knees touching his. Her lips parted in surprise, but she said nothing. His eyes caught hers, dropping for a moment to her lips. Beau reached up, taking her cheek in his palm, sweeping his thumb along her smooth skin in slow, appreciative strokes.
She pressed herself into the warm comfort of his hand. He threaded his fingers into her hair, his gentle touch sending chills cascading down her body. Emerald studied him, his uncompromising jaw, generous lips, and sharp blue eyes mellowed with desire.
‘Are you going to kiss me?’ Her words came out whispered, as if stuck in the thick breaths getting caught in her lungs.
‘Do you wish me to?’
She trembled as her body burned with the memory of the masquerade. For so long, she’d hungered to feel his mouth on her. Emerald had wanted to know what it would be like to be kissed by him since she’d first thought about being kissed by anyone. In her imagination he tasted cool and crisp, like the early morning air of a late December day.
‘Desperately.’
He dropped the ring box and rose to his knees, taking her with him. A possessive arm gently pinned her to him, careful of the bandages hidden under layers of cream silk. Against her, she felt his body quake with restraint. Her breathing was laboured as his lips descended slowly but with purpose to meet her own. Emerald had lived with wonder for so long, she feared she might swoon with anticipation before she tasted him.
He claimed her mouth in a kiss, warm, tender, lingering. His tongue traced the soft shape of her lips, coaxing her to open for him, and he swallowed her gasp with a hungry moan. Her body melted from the heady sensation of passion. She yielded to the light pressure, to the dizzying tremors thrumming through her body. The tip of his tongue found hers, encouraging it in gentle demand. She responded by drawing his lower lip between her teeth with a teasing graze.
On a groan, he pulled back, letting his forehead rest against hers, as breathless from the kiss as she. When she licked her lips, she could taste his subtle, surprising sweetness of vanilla and oak. He took her hand in his own and placed it upon his chest. Against her palm, she felt the eager beat of his heart calling to her like an echo in time, as if she’d lived the moment a hundred different ways in a hundred different lives.
‘This is yours, if you’ll have me. If you’ll marry me and let me love you forever, even when we’re long-forgotten dust in the crypt.’
She pulled the ring from the box and slipped it over her finger.
‘You promise to love me forever, but I have loved you that long already.’ Her voice hitched, and she felt the violent sting of tears behind her eyes.
Beau’s cheeks creased with a smile. ‘Is that a yes?’ he asked, taking her hands in his own and gathering her to everything he was in the living world and beyond.
She was overcome and nodded her acceptance through a burst of emotion. ‘Beau.’ Emerald breathed his name, releasing years of loneliness and longing.
Her fragile voice seemed to fracture his restraint, and he crushed her to him. His mouth consumed her, claiming her as his to love and cherish, to ignite with wonder and joy. She shivered and let her hands find their way into his dusky, thick hair, her fingers curling round the tendrils on passionate instinct. His hand dropped to her backside, and he pulled her to him as if he could fold their two bodies into one. Pressed to her belly, the hard length of his arousal. She reached for him, desperate to feel more of his body. He moaned her name when her hands caressed him through the silk of his knee breeches. There was a pulsing ache at the juncture of her legs. She begged him for release.
‘Emerald,’ he cautioned in a husky voice.
‘Please.’
He seared a path of kisses down her neck to the hollow of her collarbone, lifting her skirts as he did so. His thumb rolled over the swollen bud of her pleasure. Her belly swooped and a sudden rush of warmth spread outward from her core. He caressed her in long, even strokes, stoking the ecstasy building within her.
‘More,’ she panted, clutching at Beau’s shoulders to stabilise herself against the mounting pleasure.
Emerald mewled when he responded by tracing a deft finger along her folds, slick with moisture. She wriggled as he teased her entrance and shuddered when he finally slipped the tip of his finger inside, working a little more in each time he withdrew. His mouth reclaimed her lips, and she kissed him back with all the aching need coiling in her body. Her hips rocked by instinct, her mound pressing into the fleshy heel of his palm with every move. Little tremors shook her whole body. A sob of desperation broke their kiss. Just as she reached the crest of pleasure, he removed his hand entirely.
Emerald cried out, on the brink of demanding he finish what he’d started, when she felt two fingers instead of one trailing her wet centre. He traced her from her core to her sensitive bud, his fingers gliding over it again and again, the action short and quick. She rode hard against him and gasped as every muscle began to seize, her nerves stroked to a frenzy. His fingers came away a second time, but she had hardly registered their absence before he eased them both into her needy core. Her body tensed at the intrusion, the momentary discomfort as her untried passage adjusted. But the fullness was delicious. She writhed against him in a silent plea. He began to pump his fingers in an agonising rhythm. When he brought his thumb to hover over her bud, she came apart at the seams, burying her face in the soft fabric taut over his shoulder to stifle her cry of delight. His hands continued to play her, and she bit down, her body convulsing with every touch. The unbearable pressure of pleasure coursed through her veins, and Emerald was left undone in his arms.
Beau wrapped himself around her, his heart beating as hard as hers, and dropped kisses into her mussed hair. Emerald didn’t know how long they stayed that way, only that being held by him was her most favourite thing in the world.
‘Let us agree on a short betrothal,’ remarked Beau, tidying the curls he’d loosened and smoothing her skirts.
Emerald straightened his cravat and brushed his wayward strands off his forehead. She hoped she only looked as dishevelled as a woman newly engaged who had been kissed mercilessly and not a woman who would have allowed her betrothed to take her right there on the floor had he been less of a gentleman. Then, she took his sculpted cheeks between her palms and kissed him before rising on unsteady legs. The surprise of her sudden movements was evident on her love’s face.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To arrange the chessboard. If you win, we may set the date. If I win, you teach me how to do that thing you did to the dreadful man in the alleyway that day in Ramsgate.’