The Demure Debutante - a Regency Novella (10 page)

Arthur leaned forward and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “It's still swollen. Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Is there anything I can do to ease your pain? Anything at all?”

You could marry me,
Emilia thought. Of course, she knew that wasn't exactly what he had in mind...

“I am fine, Arthur. I really am. You have exceeded yourself already,” Emilia said. “When you're around, I always feel like I'm well looked after.”

“Good. I'm glad to hear it.” Arthur was still leaning toward her, so he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. When his fingers brushed her scalp, Emilia's heart strained against her chest. “Now, I suppose I should take your mother to her room. It seems she could use some rest.”

“As could I,” Emilia said. “But thank you for visiting me... and for the biscuits. They were exactly what I needed.”

“Good. I'm glad to hear it!”

When Arthur rose from the bed, he did something unexpected. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Emilia shuddered when his lips brushed her skin.

“I hope you can get some rest, Emilia,” Arthur said. “If there is anything you need, anything under the sun, do not hesitate to ask.”

Another kiss?
Emilia's thought made her want to giggle, so she bit her lip. “I just want to lie here in misery and shame, if you don't mind,” she said. “But thank you for your kindness.”

Arthur went to her mother's side and steered the Bath chair out of the room. Augusta snorted when he moved her chair, but she remained asleep. Before slipping through the doorway, Arthur flashed a sympathetic smile at Emilia. When he closed the door and left her alone, her heart was aching more than ever.

“I love you, Arthur Rochefort...” Emilia whispered to herself. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, Emilia was standing outside the carriage, preparing to leave Sanborne Hall. Her valise was at her feet, and her heart was in her stomach. How could she possibly leave him? Now that she knew she was in love with Arthur, how was she supposed to endure her life without him?

Arthur scooped her mother into his arms as if she weighed nothing. As he carried Augusta to the carriage, the older woman was beaming.

“Oh, if only I was twenty years younger...” she mused.

“Why do you say that? You're still a handsome woman, Augusta.”

“Flatterer!” As he put her in the seat, Augusta swatted his shoulder. “My beauty was lost to me years ago! And even if I hadn't lost it, I would still be much too old for you. Emilia, on the other hand...”

“Mama!” Emilia gasped at her mother's suggestion. She brushed past Arthur and climbed into the carriage beside her mother. “Please don't say things like that. You embarrass me so...”

“I was only suggesting...” Augusta felt her daughter pinch her arm, so she clamped her lips together. “Well, Arthur, thank you for letting us stay. You have a lovely estate.”

“And you're welcome to return whenever you would like.” Arthur stepped away from the carriage, swept his hat from his head, and bowed to the ladies. “It would be my pleasure to have you.”

“You should visit us in London!” Augusta called to him from the window. “I am sure your sister and my bacon-brained son would be happy to see you too!”

“Of course. I'll come as soon as I can!”

Emilia closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. If nothing else, his eventual trip to London gave her a little hope.

“Farewell, Augusta,” Arthur said. “And... farewell, Emilia.”

She couldn't even bring herself to return his farewell, because saying the words would disrupt her heart beyond repair. When she felt the carriage move, a tear slipped down her cheek. Emilia brushed it away before her mother could see it. She tugged her bonnet around her face, further concealing her sadness. How on earth was she supposed to cope with such a loss? How was she supposed to bear it?

The man she loved was out of her life.

* * *

As he watched the carriage roll away, Arthur became aware of the dull ache in his chest. He was suddenly gripped with an overwhelming sadness, and he wasn't sure why. He enjoyed the company of the ladies, and Sanborne Hall, as large and dark as it was, could be quite lonely. Without them, particularly Emilia, the place would feel quite--

“Empty...” Arthur whispered to himself. He shoved his beaver hat on his head and kept his eyes on the carriage, watching it as long as he could. He wished Emilia would stick her head out of the carriage so he could see her one last time. A glimpse of her face, her blonde hair, her sweet smile—any final gesture from Emilia would have worked wonders on his dimming spirits.

And then a realization dawned on him.

Emilia Harcourt was the light of his life.

Wherever they were, no matter who was around, Arthur's eyes followed her around the room. Her presence was a comfort to him; she gave him purpose. Whenever he woke up in the morning, she was the first thought in his head. Whenever she smiled, he liked to believe her smiles were for him. Whenever she laughed, he wished he could make her laugh again, because her laughter, as rare as it was, was the sweetest sound in the world. Without Emilia Harcourt, he had no reason for being, no reason to live.

He imagined her going to London, meeting a man worthy of her, a man who would replace him as her protector. Arthur couldn't stomach the thought of being replaced. The prospect of losing Emilia was a shock to his system, and that shock had bared his soul. How had it taken him so long to realize it?

He couldn't let her get away!

Arthur ran to the stables and grabbed the first horse he could find. He didn't have time for a saddle; he mounted his horse and rode bare-backed, chasing the carriage as fast as he could. The wind whisked his hat from his head and tousled his hair, but he didn't care. All he could think about was getting to Emilia and telling her exactly how he felt.

Although, he wasn't quite sure how he felt. These feelings were, after all, very new to him.

“STOP THE CARRIAGE!” Arthur hollered. He could see the post-chaise in the distance; it was only a matter of time before he caught up. Arthur's only regret was that he wouldn't have time to consider his words. “Stop the carriage! Please!”

Inside the carriage, Emilia and her mother exchanged puzzled glances.

“Are we getting accosted by a highwayman?” Augusta asked. Her voice was placid, as if the prospect of highway robbery was the most normal thing in the world.

“No, Mama. That's Arthur!” Emilia recognized his voice, but she peered out the window to be sure. “He seems to be chasing after us.”

“Did we forget something? I wouldn't be surprised. Lately, I have been so forgetful! But I can't imagine what would be so important that he would ride after us like this. It's as if he would chase us to hell and beyond!” Augusta opened a fan and started fluttering her cheeks. “What could he want?”

“I... have no idea.” Emilia felt the carriage stop, and so did her heart. The blood pumping through her veins was on fire; her sadness was replaced with exhilaration, at least for the moment. The prospect of seeing Arthur one last time had quickened her pulse and suspended her fears.

Without warning, Arthur threw open the carriage door. “Ohoho!” Augusta exclaimed. She laid a hand over her heart and threw back her head, as if she was on the verge of swooning. “Arthur Rochefort, you gave me such a start! What in the world requires such urgency, might I ask?”

Arthur took a few seconds to catch his breath, then he turned his gaze to Emilia. “I... need to speak with... your daughter,” he panted.

“Did she forget something at Sanborne Hall? I wouldn't be surprised. You see, she can be such an addle--”

“Mama!” Emilia interrupted. “I didn't forget anything. Besides, a moment ago, you were saying
you
were the forgetful one!”

“True,” Augusta agreed. “That's very true. My brain is like a sponge for various information. There are all sorts of holes.”

“
I
am the one who forgot something,” Arthur said. His gaze never wavered from Emilia as he spoke. “Well, I wouldn't call it forgetting so much as I would say it's...a failure to acknowledge how I truly felt.”

“I think you'll have to elaborate on that, Arthur,” Augusta said with a chuckle. “I'm not saying I'm a half-wit, but I'm not very good with riddles.”

“Mama...” Emilia exasperatedly rolled her eyes. “Please...
shhh
!” She turned her attention back to Arthur and waited for him to continue.

“Emilia.” When he reached for her hand, Emilia gasped. “I don't want you to leave.”

“You... don't?”

“No. I need you here. With me.” Arthur brought her hand to his lips and kissed it several times. “I want to take care of you.”

“Arthur...”

“I don't want to wake up tomorrow and regret that I've left anything unsaid. You might think I'm foolish... you might think I've lost my mind, but if that is how you feel, at least I can live without regret.”

“Arthur, what do you mean?” Her hand was trembling violently, so much so that she was sure he could feel it.

“I think I've fallen for you,” Arthur confessed. “Rather... I'm
quite certain
I've fallen for you. No, I'm positive. I'm completely positive. You have my heart, and if you leave today, you'll be taking it with you.”

“Arthur... are you serious?!”

“I am.” He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and declare himself hers, but the mother was peering over the daughter's shoulder. Augusta was amused, to say the least. She was grinning like Mr. Fibbles in a fish pond. Unfortunately, Emilia's cat was asleep, and was missing the whole spectacle. “Your face is the image I want to take with me for the rest of my life.”

“I... don't know what to say.”

“You can say I've gone mad... because I believe I have. But love is madness, or so they say.” Arthur took a deep breath and grimaced. Emilia's blank expression did nothing to bolster his confidence.

“Are you saying you love me?!”

“I do. I have fallen in love with you. I would marry you tomorrow, if that's what it took... if that is the only way I could keep you near me.”

“Arthur, I...” Emilia almost cast a glance at her mother, but she spared herself. She preferred to pretend her mother wasn't there. “I've fallen for you too. I've been in love with you for quite some time.”

“Really?!”

Emilia nodded. “Yes. It was impossible
not
to fall in love with you. I--”

Before she could finish, Arthur threw his arms around her and pulled her out of the carriage. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around in circles. “Emilia, you have no idea what a relief that is! I thought I'd pour out my heart, only to have you roll your eyes and send me away!”

“Why in the world would you think that?!” Emilia laughed. “You're very easy to love. I just... I didn't realize you could possibly feel the same way. You're handsome and perfect and wonderful, and I'm plain and boring and timid and--”

Arthur placed a silencing finger over her lips, then he corrected her as passionately as he could, “You are beautiful and kind and adorable... you light up the world with your smile.”

“Are you sure I'm not dreaming this?”

“No, this isn't a dream,” Arthur assured her. “I'm very much in love with you, Emilia Harcourt.”

Augusta stuck her head out of the carriage, reminding them of her unwelcome presence. “Well then!” Augusta chimed in. “It seems there's only one thing left for you to do!”

“And what is that?” Arthur asked. “Marriage?”

“No,” Augusta chuckled, “although that would be wonderful, in time. No... what I mean is, you should kiss her!”

If her own mother sanctioned it, who was he to protest? Arthur lifted Emilia off her feet and carried her behind the carriage, out of her mother's view. With his thumb, he gently tilted her head in his direction.

“Would you like me to kiss you, Emilia?” Arthur asked. “Just because your mother said that, I shouldn't assume you--”

“Arthur!” This time, it was Emilia who interrupted him. “Do you really need to question it? I've been longing to kiss you from the moment I met you! I just never thought you would want to kiss me...”

“I
do
want to kiss you. I
desperately
want to kiss you. I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything!”

Emilia's eyelids fluttered. This incredible moment, being in Arthur's arms, awaiting his kiss—the universe had answered her prayers. When their lips touched, Emilia swore she was flying. In actuality, Arthur had lifted her off her feet. Several blissful seconds later, he set her on her feet and caressed her cheeks in the palms of his hands.

When she opened her eyes, Arthur was staring into them, and he melted her with the warmth of his smile. Emilia couldn't believe how fortunate she was. Beautiful, handsome, adorable Arthur Rochefort was hers, and only hers. At that moment, Emilia knew she would never have to worry about her dreams coming true.

They already had.