Chapter Twenty #2
Emilia’s breath quickened, and Nathaniel’s heart gripped in fear that he had revealed too much too soon.
“Would you like to row?” He asked quickly, attempting to distract her from the heaviness that had descended on them like the morning fog. She smiled shyly and nodded.
Nathaniel wrapped his fingers lightly around her wrist and slowly pulled her closer. “Come here.”
Emilia turned around before slowly lifting herself to join him on the bench.
He shifted back until there was enough room for her to sit as well.
Her shoulders brushed against his chest as she settled in.
He was acutely aware of the lack of space that separated them.
The warmth of her seeped through his shirtsleeves, and the fresh scent of roses mixed with the salty river air.
Nathaniel reached forward, grasping the oars again and laying them across their laps.
“First, place your hands on the oars,” he said quietly, aware of how close his voice was to her ear.
Emilia slowly held out her hands. He took her right hand first, turning it until her palm faced down. His fingers settled lightly around hers as he guided them onto the smooth wooden handle.
“Hold it firmly,” he instructed. “But not so tightly that your hand becomes stiff.”
She loosened her grip, and Nathaniel bit back a smile. “Perfect.”
He helped her adjust her grip on the other oar. His thumb lightly brushed the inside of her wrist as he positioned her fingers, and he felt the quick flutter of her pulse.
“Are you comfortable?” He asked, fighting to regain control of his own racing heart.
“Yes.” She nodded.
Nathaniel covered both of her hands completely with his, enclosing them against the oars. “If I am moving quickly, please tell me.”
“I will.”
He pushed the oars forward and the blades skimmed the surface before dipping beneath the water. He felt Emilia’s body tense against his as she strained to pull the oars.
“Slower Emilia,” Nathaniel chuckled. “Your arms do far less than you would believe.”
“What do you mean?” She asked, turning slightly in his arms to try and look at him.
“When you row, most of your strength is in resisting. Each movement starts here…” Nathaniel gave into the dizzying madness for just a moment, letting his hands drift from the oars to brush the sides of her waist.
She inhaled sharply, and Nathaniel froze. He waited for her to pull away, but as her breath started to slow, he felt her relax against him just a little more.
His hands remained where they were, but he continued to explain. “You push with your legs first.”
Emilia nodded slowly.
“And then you use the strength of your back.” He traced her motions with gentle pressure across her shoulder blades.
“And finally your arms finish the stroke.”
He returned his hands to hers and helped her pull the oars gently from the water before they plunged below again.
The skiff glided smoothly over the mirror-like river, and Emilia laughed softly.
Nathaniel loosened his grip on her hands so she could feel the satisfaction of moving the boat on her own.
“I can see why you enjoy this so much,” she said.
Nathaniel smiled, “I must admit, I am finding this morning even more enjoyable than most.”
He reached up to brush the wild strands of hair away from her face and neck. Emilia turned her head until she was nearly facing him. Her eyes searched his face relentlessly, and it nearly stole his breath.
“Why do you look at me that way?” She asked.
Nathaniel’s brow furrowed. “What way?”
“I do not know,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I can not figure it out. ”
“Surely you can not fault me for wanting to memorize every detail of you, my dear.” He cupped her cheek. “You are beautiful.”
The sky was just beginning to awaken with a flush of pink, and the emerging light caught the reflection of tears in Emilia’s eyes.
“Truly?” She asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Nathaniel tilted his head, his brows raised in confusion. “Yes truly. Have I never told you that before?
Emilia shook her head slowly. “No one ever has.”
Nathaniel’s heart squeezed painfully and a flash of anger heated his body.
How had he never told her?
The mornings he had seen her in the breakfast room, her hair loosely plaited and falling over her shoulder. When she returned from a walk in the garden, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. The red gown from the Langley ball that still haunted his dreams.
How had no one ever told this woman that she was beautiful?
He shifted his seat until his legs straddled the bench, turning them both until they were sitting face to face.
“Well,” he said, his voice weighed down with the emotions he had been holding back for far too long. “That is an injustice I must remedy immediately.”
Emilia’s mouth dropped open, but she did not protest.
“Your eyes,” he began, his gaze holding steady on hers. “Are as decadent as warm honey. I cannot even look at you without losing my thoughts entirely. It is as though time itself slows down, and my entire world narrows to the simple fact that I am looking at you.”
Emilia’s breath hitched, those beautiful eyes wide with surprise. Nathaniel smiled at the knowledge that he was nowhere near the end of his praises.
“Your hair…” His hand rose slowly, tucking another loose tendril behind her ear. “…is unlike anything I have ever beheld. When the light touches it, it is as if you are set aglow. You have forever ruined sunrises for me, because nothing will ever compare to your radiance.”
Her eyes fluttered shut as a slight blush crept up her cheeks.
“The way you hold yourself when you walk into a room is mesmerizing" he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, “A simple tilt of your head, and I am left wondering how a man is expected to maintain any sense at all while in your presence.”
Emilia laughed, her breath coming in a quick, uneven rhythm as tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.
“And when you laugh…” Nathaniel smiled. “It is almost cruel. For it makes me wish, quite desperately, that I would always be the cause of it.”
His hand lifted again, brushing gently over her cheek. “The freckles upon your skin are like the lightest dusting of sugar, and I…” He stopped himself, searching her eyes for any sign that he was venturing too far, but he found none. “I find myself wondering if they would be just as sweet.”
Her lips trembled slightly, and he gently cradled her chin in his hand, his thumb brushing against the corner of her mouth.
“Your lips test every ounce of my patience,” he confessed, no longer having the strength or the desire to hold anything back. “I have been desperately waiting for the day you allow me to kiss them.”
Nathaniel leaned in closer, lifting both of his hands to gently cradle her face.
“You are beautiful, Emilia,” he whispered. “I am completely enraptured by you. My greatest regret is having not told you sooner.”
Emilia slowly raised her shaking hands to cover his, which were still drawing tiny circles across her cheeks. She leaned forward until their foreheads touched, and he could feel her soft puffs of breath against his lips.
She moved slightly, and he felt the feather-light brush of her mouth on his, and his heart stopped. He dropped his hands, pulling back, a small flutter of panic rising in his chest.
“Emilia,” he breathed. “This was not an attempt to convince you to kiss me. I truly meant every word.”
He searched her eyes for any sign that he had pushed her beyond her own desires, but she only smiled, the yearning in her eyes nearly matching his own.
“I know,” she said, her eyes still glistening. “That is why I want to kiss you.”
She leaned in once more, and this time Nathaniel did not hesitate. He wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her to him with a ferocity he hadn’t realized he possessed for her until that moment.
She melted into his embrace, folding into him like the missing piece of him he thought would be lost forever. Every caress of her lips against his filled the hollow space within his heart with a fire so bright that it melted away every broken part.
His hands slowly slid up her back, pushing her even closer to him before traveling to her hair, letting his fingers get lost in the locks that were already falling from their pins.
Emilia’s hands moved to his face, tracing the lines of his jaw.
Nathaniel broke from her only long enough to fill his lungs with air before capturing her lips again.
Was this what it felt like to drown?
Nathaniel had always believed that safety lay in distance and never straying to far beyond his depths.
Somehow he had allowed himself to be completely drawn in by her, and now he could no longer see the shore that he had once so proudly claimed as his refuge.
Yet somehow, the unknown with Emilia felt safer than the carefully planned out life he had lived before her.
Perhaps he had been wrong—perhaps the greatest strength was not found in resistance. Maybe the danger had never been in being pulled under, but in facing every unknown depth alone.