Chapter Thirty-One
When a man received a summons from Mr. Mackenzie, he answered it. Though Nick had no idea why Emma’s grandfather had suddenly decided to come to London so close to winter, he knew better than to ignore the request to meet with him. Not that Nick had any intention of ignoring it in the first place; any excuse to see Emma was one he would gladly take.
He hadn’t wanted to leave her yesterday. After their walk, his heart was telling him she felt at least a portion of the affection he felt for her, and that had given him hope that all was not lost. Just a little more time, and he would hopefully be able to show her that he would give her everything she wanted if it meant he could have her love.
By the time he reached Harstone House, he was practically brimming with anxious energy. The butler directed him right to the library, and every step he took felt heavier than the last, until he finally arrived at the fire-warmed library and sank into a chair without any decorum. After a fitful night of dreaming about Emma, he was too tired to pretend he had any desire for pleasantries.
“You summoned me?”
Mackenzie chuckled, his hands on the top of his cane as he studied Nick from his own armchair. “I see you’re still without a wife, Nicholas.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Nick grumbled. “It has not even been three weeks since we last spoke.”
“And yet you have only three weeks remaining.”
“At this point, I almost need a special license to be married by your deadline.” But that didn’t matter, because Nick knew Emma would never trust him enough in such a short amount of time. That notion had pervaded his thoughts all night. “I need more time.”
Mackenzie studied him, his eyes sharp. He had always been a perceptive man, but Nick had always hidden as much as he could from him. He hated relying so heavily on someone who owed him nothing, and yet Mackenzie had always insisted on providing him funds and the promise of an inheritance. “Do you know why I put you in my will, Nicholas?”
Nick clenched his jaw. “Because you loved my father.” He had heard the reason many times.
“My son, Matthew, was always headstrong and reckless,” Mackenzie said, and Nick sat up straighter.
He had not heard this part, and he was eager to learn more about Emma’s father. What sort of man could abandon his wife and children?
“I tried to teach him to be a good man,” Mackenzie continued, “but there was always something wild about him. It was a part of him that he didn’t want to let go, no matter how many people told him he should. One summer, he brought home a schoolfellow who couldn’t have been more different from him. Anthony Forester had a good head on his shoulders and, more importantly, a good soul.”
Nick swallowed the emotion that always crept up when he thought about his parents. He had marveled at the fact that he had been able to tell Emma about them yesterday with little issue, but he could barely hold back his misery today.
Mackenzie kept talking, either oblivious to Nick’s tears or unconcerned by them. “Anthony didn’t have a good father, something I learned fairly quickly, and he begged me to teach him how to run an estate. He spent hours every day at my side, while Matthew ran about the county, wasting time and playing with girls’ hearts. Anthony came to Tutbury every holiday after that, always eager to learn more and become a better man.
“The day he met your mother was the day I knew without a doubt that he had become an admirable man. He wanted to give her the world; I’d never seen such love before. It was as if she had brought light into his life where there had been none before. I had never seen two people more compatible than those two, like they had been created to be two halves of a whole. And then they were blessed with a child, and Anthony begged me to look after his son should anything happen to him. I, of course, agreed without hesitation. He wanted for his child the same happiness that he had found, just as I did.”
Nick didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he could say it even if he knew. His parents had told him their love story so many times, but a part of him had always wondered how much of the magic was real. Knowing that someone else had seen their love just as strongly somehow made it more tangible, and he swallowed the emotion that sat thick in his throat. That was all he wanted. A love so strong that it couldn’t be denied.
“I need more time,” he choked again.
“You have had more than eno—”
“I’m in love with Emma.” As soon as those words flew from his mouth, he flinched, sinking deeper into his chair. Mackenzie watched him without speaking a word, his expression unreadable, and Nick could hardly stand the silence. “I am desperately in love with her,” he continued. “I don’t know how it happened, or when, but my heart is irrevocably lost to that blasted headstrong woman, and I need more time .”
Pursing his lips, Mackenzie seemed to study Nick for nearly a full minute, as if searching his face to see if he was speaking the truth. “She didn’t mention a word about you last night when I arrived.”
Nick’s heart fell, though he tried not to read too much into Emma’s silence. What reason would she have to talk about him? “I haven’t told her how I feel.”
“Why not?”
“Because...” How could he explain? “Because I treated her terribly when we met. This inheritance made us enemies, and we fought bitterly until I realized...”
“You’re in love with her,” Mackenzie finished calmly.
“Yes. And I have little hope that she feels the same, but I am trying. I need more time.”
“You’ve said.” He waved to a footman who stood by the door, catching his attention. “Some tea, I think. And call for Miss Mackenzie.”
Nick shot up to his feet. “What? Why?” The footman was already gone, but Nick was not opposed to chasing him down and giving him different orders.
“Because you look like you could use some tea,” Mackenzie replied.
“Sir.”
“Will you sit, boy? I am not going to confess your feelings for you.”
That didn’t make Nick feel any better, and the only reason he returned to his chair was because he felt as if his legs might give out beneath him. “You expect me to tell her how I feel? Here, with no preamble?”
The old man looked far too amused for the situation. At least Nick could assume he approved of the match, but that hardly made the circumstance any less mortifying. “I expect you to take control of your life, Nicholas. You have been living in fear for too long. Ah, Emma, you look lovely this morning.”
Nick leaped to his feet again as Emma stepped into the library far too soon. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth, his knees wobbling, and a part of him was tempted to flee before he did as Mackenzie intended and confessed everything. The only reason he remained was because he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her now that he’d seen her. She truly was lovely, standing there in a pale-blue morning dress that brought out the pink in her cheeks and made her eyes look like the stormy ocean.
Blue had always been her color.
“You called for me, Grandfather?”
“Have a seat, Emma.”
As she settled herself on the sofa between their chairs, Emma met Nick’s gaze and seemed to be asking him a question to which he didn’t have the answer. Mackenzie was up to something, but unless he found some way to force Nick to admit his feelings, Emma would remain in the dark for now.
“Is everything well, Grandfather?” Emma asked, her words timid. “You didn’t say last night why you came to London.”
“I have been hearing some concerning reports,” Mackenzie said.
She glanced at Nick again, but now he really didn’t know what was happening. “About what?”
“About the two of you.”
Swallowing, Nick clenched his hands in his lap. Had their battle been spreading across the country? Or was this something else? Mackenzie hadn’t seemed surprised about Nick’s admission of love. Did he already know? But how? Nick had only just realized it himself.
“What sort of reports?” Emma asked, her voice thin.
Mackenzie harrumphed. “It seems neither of you have been trying very hard to find yourselves spouses, which leaves me in a difficult position. Your deadline is fast approaching, and yet I have nowhere to leave my assets.”
Nick met Emma’s gaze, frowning when she turned pink. She was under the same marriage constraints as he was! Why, then, had she been fighting so hard to remain single if that would leave her unable to inherit? He could only assume her reasoning was the same as his: a marriage without love would cost more than what the Mackenzie estate was worth.
“Grandfather,” Emma said weakly. “I am nearly twenty-one. I thought perhaps I wouldn’t have to—”
“You have known the terms of my will from the start,” Mackenzie said sharply. “If you do not procure yourself a partner, I cannot in good conscience leave everything to you without fearing it will be taken from you.”
As tears filled Emma’s eyes, Nick barely restrained himself from slipping over to the sofa and pulling her into his arms. She must have been so certain that Mackenzie would change the rules as soon as she came of age, but the old man was clearly too stubborn to see that his granddaughter didn’t need anyone by her side to thrive. He understood, in part, Mackenzie’s fears—the law was not always kind to women—but what good did it do to set a deadline neither of them could meet? Yes, Nick knew next to nothing about running an estate, so having someone by his side to talk things through made sense. Nick had seen how much confidence and fresh perspective Calloway’s wife gave him. But Emma? She could probably run that estate with her eyes closed.
Blast it all, why had it taken him this long to see how perfect she was for him? If only he had swallowed his pride and tried to court her instead of going to battle.
Emma didn’t seem to breathe as she stared at her grandfather, as if everything inside her had fallen apart and left her empty. “You’re giving me less than a month to find a husband I do not despise,” she whispered. “A month for a man to claim everything that is mine, or I get nothing.”
“Correct.”
Did the man not see the reason for Emma’s tears? The very light had gone out of her. It was as if Mackenzie had lost his mind, and Nick wanted to shout at him. Curse him. Throw a fist into his old and wrinkled face because this was going to help nothing . Was this his way of forcing Nick into revealing everything? Emma wouldn’t consider his declaration a relief but a slap in the face. She would think he meant to marry her only to take everything for himself, because he had hardly given her many reasons to trust him.
“Do not be so dramatic, child,” Mackenzie said as he struggled to his feet. “I will oversee the marriage settlement myself and ensure you are well taken care of.”
“Assuming I have a groom,” Emma mumbled, and then she turned her teary gaze to Nick, all of her desperation shining in her eyes.
He knew what she was asking. She was asking if this mysterious suitor he had invented was still an option. And, coward that he was, he nodded.
“You should rest, sir,” Nick said through clenched teeth, helping Mackenzie to the door. “You clearly have some big decisions ahead of you, and we wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself.”
The old man paused just beyond the doorway, still as calm as ever. “I know my granddaughter,” he said, his voice a soft rumble. “And I know what Matthew’s actions did to her. Her mother raised her well, but Emma has always been afraid to make attachments.”
“I know this already,” Nick growled.
“What you do not know is how perfectly suited the two of you have always been. The older she got, the more I came to realize that you and Emma would make a good match. Far more than that Lady Lavinia would have.”
Nick frowned as he processed that thought. “You thought we should be together?”
“Why do you think I enlisted Lord Harstone to ensure you spent as much time with Emma as possible? Why do you think he invited you to stay with him in Staffordshire in the first place?”
“You enlisted...” Nick shook his head, feeling off-balance. “But why did you never say?”
“Because you were both too stubborn to accept the truth if I had come right out and told you. You had to come to that conclusion yourselves.”
“I suppose you are right.” Nick groaned, glancing back at Emma. She sat stiff-backed and shaking, not yet letting her tears fall, though she seemed on the edge of breaking. “This is precisely why I asked for more time.”
“But I do not have time.” Mackenzie sighed, leaning heavily on his cane. “I am old, Nicholas, and I am tired. I can feel my end coming, and I wish to see my girl happy and cared for while I still can. I wish to see you both happy and cared for. Please.”
Nick clenched his hands at his sides, but he could hardly argue against something like that. “You haven’t told her you’re dying,” he said, not needing confirmation. “Losing you will break her.”
Mackenzie’s eyes were sad as he peered back into the room, like he was getting his fill. “I need to know she will have someone to hold her together when I am gone. Marriage will ensure she doesn’t lose what I have given her.”
Nick considered his words carefully. “You are leaving it all to her regardless,” he guessed. That filled him with some measure of relief.
But Mackenzie shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I fear it would all be taken from her, just as I have told her many times. Everything will go to Lord Harstone, who I am certain will give her full autonomy of the place.”
That was almost as good as leaving it to her directly. “Why wouldn’t you tell her as much?”
“Because my granddaughter is more stubborn than you are, something I never thought I would say. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone the rest of her life, and I fear the only way to get her to see reason and find a partner is to force her hand. Otherwise, she will see no need and never allow herself to be cared for as she deserves.” The old man smiled a little, though it was colored with sadness. “I need her to be happy, Nicholas, and I know you can make her happy. You already have.”
“I’m not so certain of that,” Nick muttered. “I’ve done everything wrong.”
“The granddaughter who greeted me last night was so much brighter—stronger—than the woman who left Staffordshire a fortnight ago.” Putting on a smile, Mackenzie patted Nick’s shoulder. “She may not realize it yet, but she is mad about you, my boy. She only needs a little push.”
“I hope you’re right,” Nick muttered. “I am not sure she will ever trust me.”
Mackenzie sighed, patting Nick’s arm. “You do not give yourself enough credit. With the way you’ve commanded the attention of England for the past three years, I am certain you will think of something. You have so much of your father in you, my boy. In the best way. Let Emma see that side of you, and you will have nothing to fear.”
Nick swallowed. “Thank you,” he said, knowing those words hardly encompassed everything he owed to the man. “For Emma’s sake, I hope you are wrong about the time you have left.”
“As do I,” Mackenzie agreed, and then he shuffled off.
Someone would be arriving with tea shortly, but for the time being, Nick and Emma could be alone. He would have to use that to his advantage. When he stepped back into the library, Emma looked up at him. One tear slipped down her cheek, and that was enough to propel him forward and scoop her into his arms in an embrace.
She melted into him as she broke into sobs, pressing her face into his cravat. Closing his eyes, he sat beside her and held her tight. He wanted to tell her everything—how he felt about her, her grandfather’s fading energy, Harstone’s part in the inheritance—but he could see why he couldn’t. She was still so afraid of being left behind, and she needed someone she could trust with her whole heart to never leave her.
She barely knew Nick, and he needed to change that. As quickly as he could. How had Shakespeare put it? “To thine own self be true.” Nick hoped the Bard knew what he was talking about.
“How could he do this to me?” Emma moaned into his shoulder, trembling in his arms. “What reason could he have to ruin my chances without considering my happiness?”
“They’re not entirely ruined,” Nick murmured. Though he hated the reason behind his current situation, he couldn’t help but cherish the way he was able to hold her, like he was the only thing keeping her in one piece. If only he could hold her like this always.
Her future was secure no matter what happened, but Emma would never be content if her brother-in-law owned what she so desperately wanted. What if she started to resent Harstone? What if she felt so betrayed by her family that she left them behind? She would be more alone than ever, and that would break her heart into pieces.
Nick feared she would give up on love entirely if he didn’t convince her to take him before the deadline arrived.
“Who could possibly want to marry me in such a short space of time, Nick?” Emma whispered into his shoulder. “You heard Grandfather. Married. Not engaged. Unless I somehow procure a special license or run away to Gretna Green, that gives me less than a week to convince someone to propose. You’ve won. Exactly as he wanted you to.”
Clenching his jaw, Nick silently prayed that he could do right by this woman. She had already dismissed him as an option on the first day they met, and he knew she would have to choose him. He only prayed that he could show her enough of his heart for her to see the man he hoped he could be. The man who would love her for all that she was. He had to prove to her that he would never be like her father.
He took a slow breath, holding it in his lungs as he tried to be brave. “I haven’t won just yet.” When she tensed in his arms, he wondered what that meant. “You forget that no woman has agreed to marry me. Besides, you still haven’t met your mystery suitor.”
Forcing a breath, Emma sat back and shook her head. “Surely you, of all people, should understand that if I am going to subject myself to a union such as marriage, I require love. I will not give myself to a man with anything less.”
He did understand, and if she could only believe him if he told her how he felt about her... if he could only find the courage to offer up his heart right now despite the risk of it being broken... “All is not lost. I cannot bring him to you yet, but he can write to you.”
She scoffed. “Write to me? And if anyone should discover us? I will not be the subject of scandal.”
Nick couldn’t help but smile a little. “Oh, it is not so bad,” he said, taking hold of one of her hands. “I rather enjoyed my first year of scandal.”
Thankfully, she laughed a little through her tears. “You are unique among men, Nick Forester.”
“I should hope so. And this man I have for you is just as singular. Trust me when I say he knows my opinion of you and could easily fall in love with you if given the chance. Do you?”
She sniffled. “Do I what?”
“Trust me?” Though he had already asked that question the other night, he needed to know if this would even work. He had plenty of practice in writing his thoughts to those he cared about, but never had he been unsure if the recipient shared his regard. Calloway and Harstone were stuck with him, and Mrs. Murray thought of him like a son. But Emma? He lifted her hand to his lips before pressing a kiss to her forehead because he wanted more. Emma could be his undoing. “I promise you will get your happy ending, my darling. Without scandal. Do you believe me?”
As she gripped his hand between both of hers, she seemed to be searching his face for something. She must not have found it, because she wilted. “Do I have any other choice?”
That question put a crack in the hope that surrounded his heart. But no matter. He still had a few days to show her who he really was. He barely had half a plan, but it would have to be enough for him to prove his love and earn hers in return.
“Do not lose hope yet, dear Emma. I will take my leave of you and return with a secret letter.”
He paused in the doorway and looked back, meeting Emma’s gaze. She looked at him as if he were all she had left, and it gave him courage. Maybe they both could win after all.