“I’ve never been a passionate man, Emme. I think, with time, a true affection would emerge between us. There will be children to rear, and that will be a great joy.”
“I agree, children are a great joy.” They were both silent for a moment before she spoke again. “I would like some time to think about your offer. I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“Of course, my dear. Take all the time you need. I will not rush you. We can have a six-month engagement if you wish. Even longer.”
Emmeline nodded. “You’re very kind, Nigel. I’m going to take some air.”
“Would you like me to come with you?”
“No, thank you. I’d like to be alone. I’ll return shortly.”
They parted in the hallway, and Emmeline exited the house, taking the path to the garden. It was small for their London town house but adequate. In the winter, it looked skeletal and dead, but in the spring, it came alive with roses and lavender.
She sat upon the bench and rubbed her hands together. Marriage. It was such a huge step, and one that overwhelmed her. She was certain she wanted companionship, but she had always viewed Nigel as a dear friend and nothing more. It seemed everyone around her had already glimpsed what she had not: Nigel wanted her as his wife.
As the wife of an earl’s second son, she would be comfortable and would not want for anything. Most likely they would live in London, and any children they had would be educated as their father had been. But he had admitted that he did not love her, and that concerned her.
Everett appeared. “You’re alone.”
“As you see.”
“You should go in. It’s cold.”
Emmeline looked down at her hands. “Your brother has asked me to marry him.”
“He finally got the courage.” He took several steps to stand near her.
“So it seems.”
“And your answer?”
Emmeline looked up into his handsome face and then away. “I care for him. But not like that.”
“Not as a wife loves a husband.”
She nodded.
“Then you have your answer.”
“Maybe I want too much,” she wondered aloud, her breath misting in the cold.
“Maybe Nigel doesn’t want enough. Love is not something to fling about idly.”
Emmeline rolled her eyes. “What do you know about love?”
Everett gave her a lopsided grin. “What don’t I know?”
Emmeline shook her head. “I’m no
t talking of the bedroom. I’ve no doubt you’re well versed there. I’m speaking of love.”
“I’m well versed? Hmmm. What do those scandal sheets print about me? I must read them one day.”
Emmeline ignored him. “And you’re right. Love isn’t something to be bandied about. Love is precious and pure.”
“Precious and pure,” he repeated and then said coldly, “I think if you married my brother, it would be the biggest mistake of your life.”
Emmeline stood up to face him. “Why are you so venomous? How can you be so cruel to your own brother? What has he done to you?”