The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(78)

He’d been deliberately indiscreet, and though this was hardly the proper place for it, Garrick did not wish to wait. “Aye, my lady?”

He tried not to smile, unsure of why he felt the urge to tease her when his mood had been so dark just moments before. She was simply too easily incensed, and the thought of doing this for years to come was one that filled him with happiness.

Her eyes widened. “Did you not wish to include me in this particular conversation?”

At least they would never be bored.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” He pretended to see the meal between them for the first time, and pulling out his knife, he cut a portion of the fish, the best portion, and slid it to Emma. He then took a bite for himself. “You know, my father attempted to steal Cook away from Kenshire many times. She—”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the meal,” Emma said.

She was up to something.

Taking the portion he’d cut for her, she picked it up between her thumb and forefinger, popped it into her mouth, and then proceeded to lick both fingers just enough for his cock to respond—though not enough for others to take notice.

“Emma . . .”

She did the same with the second portion, this time licking her lips when she was through. It had been too long since he’d tasted those lips.

Of course, that thought led to another.

Outside of his dreams, he’d tried not to imagine taking Emma as his own. Every time his thoughts wandered that way in the past, he had stopped them.

But now he gave his mind free rein. Continuing to watch her deliberately entice him, he could think of nothing else. He had to remember where they were. Who sat next to them.

And though Sara and Geoffrey carried on a conversation between themselves, the four of them were on display in a room full of retainers. They were not yet alone.

But she’d won this battle.

“Stop,” he insisted.

She looked at him questioningly.

“I want you,” he said. “I need you.”

Emma turned serious.

“Will you be my wife, Emma Waryn?”

She reached for his hand, only to pull it back. Her eyes shifted to the crowded hall before returning to him.

“’Tis so difficult not to touch you,” she said.

Oh God, she had no idea.

“Aye, Garrick. I will be your wife, gladly.”

When she reached for her goblet, he took advantage, placing his hand over hers and pretending to help her guide it to her lips.

Pulling his hand away, he made a promise he intended to keep. “I will love you, Emma Waryn, every day for the rest of our lives.” And then lower, to ensure they were not overheard, “Starting this evening.”

She blinked, understanding creeping into her expression.

And before he lost himself completely, Garrick turned and attempted to converse with his hosts.

It would be a long meal indeed.



Emma had not been nervous all evening.

She should have been before the meal, before knowing how Garrick would react. Whether he would, indeed, forgive her. Or mayhap when she’d pulled Geoffrey aside after the scene in the solar and begged him to accept Garrick. Or the moment when she’d pledged herself to him, forever.

Nay, she’d not been nervous then, but she was very much so as she stood in her chamber with her lady’s maid, preparing for the night ahead.

“Yer poor fingers,” Edith said, standing back to look at her as if she were a prized horse. “If ye keep doin’ that to ’em, you’ll have old lady hands.”

Edith despised Emma’s penchant for squeezing her fists so tight the knuckles cracked. She’d done it so often as a young girl, for the simple pleasure of annoying her brothers, she no longer realized when she was doing it.

“You look lovely, despite that awful habit.”

Edith had helped her prepare, knowing what was to come. She’d never been so thankful to be separated from Geoffrey and Sara, whose bedchambers were far away from her own. While she and her earl were now pledged to marry, her brother would hardly approve of what she was about to do. Of course, Sara had said—

“Now remember,” Edith said. “Don’t let him go too fast, or ye’ll likely have a babe in your stomach before ye even wed.”

As Edith lit yet another candle, Emma burst into laughter.

“How do you know so much since you’ve not done it yourself?” she teased.

Edith shrugged. “The maids talk,” she said.

Garrick was coming to her. He’d made that very clear at dinner. And though they’d been intimate before, this would be different.

“Perhaps I should wear another shift,” Emma said. “Mayhap the cream one, or any of the others with slightly more fabric.”

Edith shook her head vigorously as she placed a final candle and stood back, presumably to view the effect of her efforts.

When Emma had shared the evening’s events with her maid after the meal, Edith’s high-pitched squealing had risked summoning the entire household. Once she’d recovered, however, Edith went to work immediately. Where she’d found the fresh lilacs, Emma couldn’t guess. But the room smelled like a garden in the middle of spring and looked more like the hall during a great feast than it did her bedchamber.

A fire roared in the hearth, and wood for the entire evening was stacked next to it, courtesy, of course, of Edith.