“I won’t. I’ll try not to.”
Alex drew back so that he could see her face. “I’ve made you cry,” he whispered, touching her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
Within the warm haven of Alex’s arms, Emma let loose all the tears which had been brimming up within her for the past two days and which she had valiantly fought to conceal from the concerned eyes of her relatives. As each tear fell, it seemed to her that a weight had been lifted from her soul, and she slowly felt the tension leave her body. At some point her tears trickled to a halt, and Alex laid her sleepy body down upon his massive bed. With a contented smile on his face, he slipped off her shoes, pulled the covers up, tucked them under her chin, and kissed her goodnight.
Chapter 19
A few hours later, Emma’s eyelids fluttered open, and she groggily took in her surroundings. She took a deep breath and let out a catlike yawn, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A faint smell of musk hung in the air, and she sniffed a few times, unused to such a scent in her bedroom. Taking another breath of the heady aroma, she yawned again, squeezing her eyes shut as she twisted her body around, turning onto her side. With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes again. And then she opened them wider, finding herself mere inches away from Alex’s face.
That was when she realized that the heavy weight across her hips was Alex’s leg. She sucked in her breath, startled by the intimacy.
“Oh my,” she breathed, holding herself very still, lest she wake the man sleeping next to her. She hadn’t any experience with this sort of situation. If she moved, she’d probably wake him up. On the other hand, her heart was beating so rapidly she knew that there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep.
It seemed to her that she probably ought to scream. Or faint. That, she imagined, was what a well-brought-up lady was supposed to do in such a situation. But then again, a well-brought-up lady wasn’t supposed to be in such a situation. Anyway, she didn’t really see how screaming would solve anything. And swooning seemed a rather stupid endeavor; one couldn’t really do anything while unconscious, and once she awoke, she’d be in the same place in which she’d started. Besides, Emma thought wryly, she really wasn’t much good at fainting without a sufficient blow to the head.
There would be a scandal, she supposed, unless Alex and her family behaved with the utmost discretion. Actually, there was a very good chance that Uncle Henry and Aunt Caroline hadn’t yet noticed her absence. When they left for Lady Mottram’s ball, Emma had let them think that she was retiring early with a headache. They had been very worried about her because she had seemed so depressed and tired for the past couple of days. They told Emma to get some rest, and she was sure they wouldn’t bother her when they returned. Ned would know, of course. And Belle, too, who would almost certainly ferret out the information from her brother the minute she got back home.
She’d be all right as long as she made it home before sunrise, when the servants started going about their daily chores. Her cousins had probably left the front door open for her. She smiled wryly. Belle and Ned were probably waiting for her in the front parlor, taking turns keeping watch through the window so they could let her in. They wouldn’t want to miss whatever story Emma offered to explain her lengthy absence.
Emma twisted her head and squinted at the dock that sat on Alex’s nightstand. It was quarter to four in the morning. Henry, Caroline, and Belle had probably returned from Lady Mottram’s sometime in the last couple of hours. She still had plenty of time. It didn’t really matter if she left now or in a half an hour. Whatever damage she had incurred was already done.
Having duly justified her silence, Emma was content to lie in the big bed, studying Alex’s face. He looked very boyish while he slept. His dark lashes were sinfully long as they rested against his cheeks, and Emma found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she had lashes like that to frame her own eyes. His hair was rumpled by sleep, and his lips were slightly parted as he breathed steadily.
Alex had thrown a bare arm over the blankets, and Emma could see the very top of his chest. She had never before seen him without a shirt, and she flexed her hand, longing to place it on his chest just to see what it felt like. Her eyes followed his skin to where it disappeared under the covers. He had definitely taken his shirt off, but what about his breeches? Emma gasped. Dear Lord, he wasn’t naked?
The leg that lay across her hips suddenly felt very strange. Emma caught her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to figure out a way to wriggle out from under him without waking him up. Alex made a sleepy sound as he shifted his weight. He rolled toward her, and Emma found herself even more firmly pinned underneath his leg. There seemed to be only one way to determine the state of his undress. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her hand beneath the covers and slid it down until she reached the soft springy hair on his knee. Emma quickly pulled her hand away. He definitely wasn’t wearing breeches.
If he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he wasn’t wearing breeches, there was only one other place he could have remained clothed so as to protect her modesty. Emma swallowed. She certainly wasn’t going to slide her hand under the covers and touch him there. She wasn’t even entirely sure what to expect.
She tried a different tactic. Very slowly and very carefully, she lifted up the covers, taking great care not to disturb Alex. Once the blanket was higher than her eyes, she peered in, but she couldn’t make anything out amidst all the shadows. Summoning all her courage, she dipped her head beneath the cover, still holding it far enough up to let in the slight glimmer of moonlight that bathed the room. It was still too dark to see anything. Emma grimaced and resigned herself to defeat. If she moved her head any further under the covers, she might crash into something, and she certainly didn’t want that. She slowly unfolded herself, returning her head to its original position on the pillow beside Alex.