The Mister I Married (Romancing the Rogue #3)

Chapter Nineteen

With one successful dinner party behind her, Emmy was more than eager to host her second and immediately went to work on her list of preparations.

Tess was well on her way to a flock of female friends—this week already she’d taken tea with Miss Plum and visited the village shops with Catherine Stavers. Another two or three dinner parties and she would have a friend for every day of the week.

Perhaps then Emmy could transfer her focus to the young men of the county.

Tess wasn’t exactly champing at the bit to marry, but she did claim to want a husband eventually, so surely there would be no harm in introducing her to Berkshire’s single gentlemen, if only to give her a chance to exercise her flirting muscle.

Emmy had made plans to meet with Lucinda later this week, and she had every intention of asking for her help in starting a list of the area’s most eligible bachelors.

Today, however, she was determined to do nothing but relax. She’d earned a little respite after all her hard work, so when Alex asked her at breakfast if she’d like to join him on his walk with his dogs, she’d said yes.

He’d invited her before, more than once, and she always declined, but today…well, for some reason, today she’d accepted.

It was late morning when they set out, and though the sun shone warmly from its perch in the cloudless sky, the intermittent breeze was a decidedly chilly one. Emmy wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as they walked and watched the dogs tramp through the grass, their noses either on the ground or up in the air.

“Have you always had dogs?” she asked Alex, a smile turning her lips as Gracie chased after a butterfly, barking at it as if trying to make friends, while Prescott—annoying little brother that he was—chased after Gracie.

“Yes, always,” Alex replied with a smile. “Some of my earliest memories are of playing with our dogs. I remember when I was small, I would sit atop Oscar’s back and ride him around the house like a pony.” He glanced at Emmy, his eyes twinkling. “Oscar was a sheepdog and my best friend for years.”

“I wish I’d been there to see that,” Emmy said, chuckling at the adorable image.

Alex stopped and bent down to pick a stick up off the ground then whistled for the dogs, who instantly came running.

“Did you have pets as a child?” he asked her, before tossing the stick far out into the field.

Gracie and Prescott bolted after it, flying across the grass as if their very lives depended on finding that stick.

Chuckling softly, Emmy watched them go, her fingers closing around her shawl as the breeze kicked up again. “No, I never had a pet. My mother tells me my father and brother would often bring injured animals home with them and nurse them back to health, but I have no memory of it.” She shrugged. “Then my father died, and that practice died with him.”

Gracie trotted toward them with the stick clasped in her teeth, looking quite pleased with herself. Prescott followed, eyeing the stick covetously, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth.

“I suppose animals must have reminded your family too much of your father,” he said before throwing the stick again. As the dogs ran after it, he and Emmy resumed their leisurely stroll.

“Yes, probably,” Emmy said with a nod. She did not remember, and she had never asked. Her father’s absence was still felt deeply by Griffin and her mother, and she did not like to make them sad by asking about him.

“Still, I think I would have enjoyed having a pet,” she said. “A cat, perhaps. My brother recently adopted a kitten, and she is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I think I—” She broke off as one booted foot trod on a fallen branch.

Bending down, she picked up the sturdy oak branch and began using it like a walking stick as they continued their amble through the grass.

“There is no shortage of kittens in the country,” Alex said, picking up the conversation. “If you want a cat, we will get you one.”

She looked at him, anticipation thrumming through her. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. I like cats.” He tossed her a wry smile. “And I like you.”

She grinned. “Then I would love to— oof! ”

One moment Emmy was firmly on her feet and the next she was on her back on the ground with Prescott peering happily down at her, the makeshift walking stick clenched comically between his teeth.

“Prescott, sit ,” Alex ordered, and the dog immediately obeyed, his rump hitting the grass. Gracie wisely did the same.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, grasping Emmy’s hands and helping her to her feet.

“I’m fine. Only a little dirty.” She began swiping at the dirt and grass dotting her skirts.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, retrieving her shawl and giving it a good shake before draping it around her shoulders. “Prescott sometimes forgets himself.”

“It was my own fault. I knew he was chasing sticks, and still I picked up the biggest stick in the county. How could he possibly resist such a temptation?”

She reached out to scratch Prescott’s ear, letting him know all was well between them. He seemed to smile back at her around the branch still in his mouth, and then he turned and ran off, proudly showing off his new prize.

Laughing softly, Emmy turned to Alex again, intending to speak, but her words fell away as she met his overtly admiring gaze. Discomfited, she reached a hand up to pat her hair. “What is it? Have I missed something?”

He shook his head. “I was only thinking how adorable you are with your hair mussed. It isn’t the first time I’ve had that thought.” He pursed his lips. “Of course, you’re usually naked when I’m thinking it.”

The comment startled a laugh from her, and she cocked her head to one side, eyeing him with playful consideration. “Is it normal, I wonder, for a man to think about carnal relations as often as my husband seems to?”

“I honestly don’t know,” he said, clearly battling a smile of his own. “Though I cannot see how any man could help it. Not with a wife like mine.”

Emmy rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. Beaming, actually.

On impulse, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed his smile. His arms instantly closed around her waist and pulled her against him, his lips meeting hers, warm and hungry.

Minutes passed as they kissed beneath the soft blanket of blue sky and sunshine.

“I have to get back,” Alex murmured some time later, his hands still gripping Emmy’s waist. “I have a meeting this afternoon, and I must prepare for it.”

“Of course,” she said with a nod, disappointed but mollified somewhat by the desire and regret glimmering in his eyes.

Leaning down, he pressed one last, lingering kiss to her lips then pulled away and whistled for Gracie and Prescott. The foursome began the short trek back to the house, the dogs sprinting ahead until they were nearly out of sight, only to circle back, as if attempting to talk Alex out of ending the walk.

Emmy watched her husband as he watched his dogs, admiring his handsome profile and the affectionate smile that curved his lips every time he watched Gracie and Prescott at play. She loved how much he loved them.

And she was glad she’d married him. She hadn’t wanted to be a wife yet, but she knew how lucky she was to have a husband like him—a man who was caring and patient and always concerned with ensuring his family were comfortable and happy.

Their union was no love match, but their meeting did sometimes feel…fated. Meant to be. As if destiny had arranged it, ensuring Alex was in London the very Season she needed a husband.

Then again, maybe it was only coincidence.

Either way, she was a fortunate woman to have found Mr. Alex Whitcomb, and she knew it.

Without saying a word, she reached out and slipped her hand in his. He turned to look at her, his eyes sparking with both pleasure and surprise, and then he smiled and twined his fingers with hers.

They stayed like that, hand in hand, all the way back to the house.

Several minutes later as they walked through the front door and into the entrance hall, they were met by the butler, Reeve, who quietly informed them there were visitors waiting for them in the rose salon.

“Visitors?” Emmy echoed in surprise. She glanced questioningly at Alex, but he only shrugged, as if to say he knew nothing about it.

“How peculiar,” she whispered, handing Reeve her shawl before she and Alex headed from the entrance hall. “I am not expecting anyone today and visiting hours have not yet begun.”

“I am sorry for the social faux pas,” a familiar female voice called out from inside the rose salon, “but I do hope you will forgive me.”

Emmy’s mouth fell open as Olivia stepped into the corridor, gorgeous as always in her deep pink gown, her blonde curls framing a broad, delighted grin.

“Olivia? What on earth—” She rushed forward and pulled her friend into a tight embrace. “What are you doing here?”

Emmy’s brother, Griffin, was there, too, standing in the open doorway, his tall frame clothed in a dark blue day coat and gray trousers a shade darker than his eyes. Their gazes met over Olivia’s shoulder.

“Good to see you, Em,” he said with a rueful smile on his handsome face, as if he was happy to see her but wary of an emotional scene.

Having none of it, Emmy rolled her eyes and forced a hug on him, asking again, “What on earth are you doing here?”

“We’re on our way to London for a short stay,” Griffin said. “And Olivia suggested this would be a fine opportunity to see you and meet your new husband. So, here we are.”

His gaze flicked to Alex expectantly, and Emmy, remembering her manners, made the introductions with as much calm as she could manage.

“This is such a lovely surprise,” she said a few moments later as the foursome moved into the rose salon and sat down. “How are you both? How is Artemis?”

Griff’s chuckle was full of affection. “Artemis is as mischievous as ever and growing like a weed.”

“She is also the most spoiled creature in all of England,” Olivia said in a hushed voice intended to be heard by all.

“Excluding you, of course, my darling wife,” Griff teased, drawing a faint blush to Olivia’s cheeks that made Emmy smile.

She was still growing accustomed to the idea of her dearest friend being married to her brother, but they were in love, and she’d never seen them happier, so how could she not be happy for them?

“I miss Artemis,” Emmy said, turning to Alex beside her on the sofa. “Artemis is Griffin’s cat, the adorable little mongrel I mentioned to you earlier.”

He smiled. “I figured as much. I hope to meet her someday.”

“Well,” she said, lacing her fingers in her lap. “Shall I ring for refreshments? I’m certain you two would appreciate a bit of sustenance after the journey here.”

She looked at Olivia then Griffin, hardly able to believe they were here, in her new home, sitting across from her and her new husband. It was nothing short of surreal.

“I would really like to freshen up first if I may,” Olivia said. “Will you show me the way, Emmy?”

The gleam in Olivia’s blue eyes hinted at an ulterior motive: She wished to talk sans husbands.

“Of course,” Emmy said, rising to her feet, and after assuring the men they would return shortly, she and Olivia quit the room.

“I do hope our unexpected arrival has not inconvenienced you,” Olivia said, looping her arm through Emmy’s as they traversed the corridor. “I wanted to make at least one more trip to London before…” She trailed off mysteriously, which instantly piqued Emmy’s interest for Olivia was not a mysterious person.

“Before what?” she prompted, arching her brows.

Olivia’s free hand settled on her belly and a little smile curved her lips. “Before I am confined to my bed.”

Emmy halted at the foot of the stairs, her eyes widening. “You mean…”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I am going to have a baby.”

“Oh, Livvy, that’s wonderful,” Emmy exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. “I am so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for me, too.” Olivia grinned. “And Griffin is so excited to be a father. It’s very sweet.”

Her eyes took on a dreamy quality, and Emmy huffed out a laugh, saying, “Well, I can’t wait to meet my first niece or nephew. Does my mother know?”

“Oh, yes. She is quite happy.”

Emmy laughed. “Surely that is an understatement.”

Being a grandmother was the ultimate dream for Lady Lavinia Keswick. If she hadn’t already bought up every available baby item in London, Emmy would be very surprised, indeed.

“Now, enough about me,” Olivia said as they resumed their trek up the stairs. “How are you? Are you happy here?” She blew out a sigh. “I do wish I had been there for the wedding.”

“So do I,” Emmy said sincerely, patting her hand. “But, yes, I am happy here. I had not intended to marry yet, but I like it more than I’d expected to.”

“I’m glad. I was a bit worried over what I would find when we arrived, but while we were waiting, I spotted you and your husband out the window, walking together and holding hands, and all my fears were allayed.” Olivia paused outside Emmy’s bedchamber door, a sly smile curving her lips. “You looked very much like a couple in love.”

Emmy’s stomach dipped, and she hid her discomfort with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t be silly.”

“I know what I saw, Em.”

“You saw what you wanted to see. This was not a love match, as you well know.”

Olivia tipped her head to one side, her mouth going mulish. “Perhaps it did not start out that way, but now—”

“But now nothing . It began as a marriage of convenience, and it is still a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.”

“And the mussed hair? And the grass stains on your dress?” She raised her eyebrows. “Do not think I did not notice.”

Emmy touched her hair then huffed out a sigh. “I fell . One of Alex’s dogs knocked me to the ground.”

She did not bother to mention the kissing that had followed her fall, nor the lovemaking that had occurred during a certain picnic only a few days ago. Olivia’s romantic heart did not need the encouragement.

“Hm.” The low hum was as dubious as her blue eyes.

“I fell ,” Emmy repeated, firmer this time.

Olivia crossed her arms. “Hm.”

“I do wish you would cease making that noise,” she muttered as she turned the doorknob and walked into her bedchamber.

“I will cease once you convince me I’m wrong,” Olivia shot back, following her inside.

“You are wrong, and I wish you would let it go.”

She shut the door with more force than she’d intended and stalked to her wardrobe to fetch a clean gown.

“Why are you so upset?” Olivia’s voice was quiet, confused.

“I’m not upset,” she said firmly, though an idiot could see that she was. “May we talk of something else, please?” She pulled a gown from her wardrobe and laid it on the bed. “Tell me what you and Griffin have decided to name the baby.”

The distraction worked—or, perhaps more likely, Olivia had decided to show her some mercy. Either way, Emmy was grateful when her friend launched into a monologue of possible names while helping her into her clean gown.

She tried to listen, but her thoughts kept straying, repeating, echoing.

You and your husband … walking together and holding hands …

You looked like a couple in love.

Her chest tightened, and she swallowed hard, the words pressing like whalebone even as she assured herself they could not possibly be true.

Olivia was a romantic at heart, and this made her see what she wanted to see. Things that simply were not there.

Alex did not love her, and she did not love him. That was the truth, and that was how it would stay.