throat. Then finally she rushed, “If I had, I wouldn’t have met you.”
The words, so simple, shook him. It was true. Utterly true. Somehow, he knew they were supposed to meet. Supposed to change each other. It was a shocking realization which he quickly put aside before he could truly begin to think on it. “Look, I’m being a terrible knight in shining armor. We should get you ashore and clothed. Are you cold?”
“How could I be on such a wonderful day?”
Her sense of optimism was another thing he didn’t quite understand. After all, his father was ever trying to impress upon him the untrustworthiness of the world. “I’m going to jump in and swim the boat to shore.”
“And I will sit here,” she patted her small hands against the wooden boards. She winked at him, then added glibly, “And do my bit by not falling in again.”
“Thank you. Very good of you.”
“Yes. So, I thought.”
There was a long pause. He knew he should jump in now. He’d swim her quickly to land and then he would take her up to the house and hand her over to the housekeeper. But he didn’t. He just sat there, staring, unable to take his eyes from her.
She stared right back at him, seemingly equally transfixed until at last, she breathed, “You know, you must kiss me now.”
Chapter 6
The Present
The Trent Estate
Emmaline waited a good quarter of an hour before she finally peeped into the corridor. She gazed from left to right. At this time of night it was completely dark, not the least bit of light lurking, except from each pane of glass that allowed faint tendrils of moonlight to peer in.
It seemed safe. But could she be sure?
Finally, just like her cousin would do (or at least she was rather certain she would do) she threw caution to the wind and trotted out into the hall.
It had been much on her mind of late. This preposterous business of waiting for the wedding night. She loved Edward and he loved her. Why should they wait?
A silly smile lilting her lips, Emmaline rushed down the hallway. Quite frankly, she was tired of being an angel and she was quite ready to turn in her wings. Humans seemed to have a great deal more fun.
It only took her a few moments of rushed tiptoeing to find Edward’s apartments. As bride groom, he’d been given a suite. As soon as she stood in front of the white and gold door, painted in the French style or so she had been told, she hesitated. What exactly should she say?
Or do?
She hadn’t dared asked Harry. Even if her cousin was always getting into scrapes, she really did doubt that Harry would encourage her down the same path. Especially one of this nature. Even she had heard the rumors about Harry’s near brush with disgrace.
Squaring her shoulders and smoothing down the frills and bows of her dressing gown, she grabbed hold of the latch and pushed it down. The door swung open to dim light.
Good. Edward was not yet asleep.
She wandered through his private sitting room. A sitting room she had labored over with the decorating, learning a great many terms that had not lingered in her brain. She simply didn’t find the difference between damask and silk terribly interesting. If there even was a difference.
The doors to the bedroom were blessedly open, the light drifting towards her. Emmaline lifted her chin and marched forward. A thrill of anticipation leapt through her, stealing her breath away. After all, this was the moment she had been waiting for for so long.
When she slipped through the door, she hesitated. Edward sat on the bed above the silken covers. Still clothed for the most part. A dark green velvet dressing gown was draped over his strong shoulders and it was belted firmly about his taut waist. His head was bent in the perusal of some volume or other.
A smile tilted her lips. This was the man she was going to marry. It was quite possible that there would never be a more happy or lucky girl than she. “Edward?” she said gently.
His head lifted, but his eyes
The words, so simple, shook him. It was true. Utterly true. Somehow, he knew they were supposed to meet. Supposed to change each other. It was a shocking realization which he quickly put aside before he could truly begin to think on it. “Look, I’m being a terrible knight in shining armor. We should get you ashore and clothed. Are you cold?”
“How could I be on such a wonderful day?”
Her sense of optimism was another thing he didn’t quite understand. After all, his father was ever trying to impress upon him the untrustworthiness of the world. “I’m going to jump in and swim the boat to shore.”
“And I will sit here,” she patted her small hands against the wooden boards. She winked at him, then added glibly, “And do my bit by not falling in again.”
“Thank you. Very good of you.”
“Yes. So, I thought.”
There was a long pause. He knew he should jump in now. He’d swim her quickly to land and then he would take her up to the house and hand her over to the housekeeper. But he didn’t. He just sat there, staring, unable to take his eyes from her.
She stared right back at him, seemingly equally transfixed until at last, she breathed, “You know, you must kiss me now.”
Chapter 6
The Present
The Trent Estate
Emmaline waited a good quarter of an hour before she finally peeped into the corridor. She gazed from left to right. At this time of night it was completely dark, not the least bit of light lurking, except from each pane of glass that allowed faint tendrils of moonlight to peer in.
It seemed safe. But could she be sure?
Finally, just like her cousin would do (or at least she was rather certain she would do) she threw caution to the wind and trotted out into the hall.
It had been much on her mind of late. This preposterous business of waiting for the wedding night. She loved Edward and he loved her. Why should they wait?
A silly smile lilting her lips, Emmaline rushed down the hallway. Quite frankly, she was tired of being an angel and she was quite ready to turn in her wings. Humans seemed to have a great deal more fun.
It only took her a few moments of rushed tiptoeing to find Edward’s apartments. As bride groom, he’d been given a suite. As soon as she stood in front of the white and gold door, painted in the French style or so she had been told, she hesitated. What exactly should she say?
Or do?
She hadn’t dared asked Harry. Even if her cousin was always getting into scrapes, she really did doubt that Harry would encourage her down the same path. Especially one of this nature. Even she had heard the rumors about Harry’s near brush with disgrace.
Squaring her shoulders and smoothing down the frills and bows of her dressing gown, she grabbed hold of the latch and pushed it down. The door swung open to dim light.
Good. Edward was not yet asleep.
She wandered through his private sitting room. A sitting room she had labored over with the decorating, learning a great many terms that had not lingered in her brain. She simply didn’t find the difference between damask and silk terribly interesting. If there even was a difference.
The doors to the bedroom were blessedly open, the light drifting towards her. Emmaline lifted her chin and marched forward. A thrill of anticipation leapt through her, stealing her breath away. After all, this was the moment she had been waiting for for so long.
When she slipped through the door, she hesitated. Edward sat on the bed above the silken covers. Still clothed for the most part. A dark green velvet dressing gown was draped over his strong shoulders and it was belted firmly about his taut waist. His head was bent in the perusal of some volume or other.
A smile tilted her lips. This was the man she was going to marry. It was quite possible that there would never be a more happy or lucky girl than she. “Edward?” she said gently.
His head lifted, but his eyes
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