The memory lingered between them, it had been a few days after her sixteenth birthday, and she had found him near the lake that separated her father’s vast property from Elliot’s humble cottage. His father had only recently died, and Elliot had looked so broken, sitting there with his knees to his chest and silent tears on his cheeks. That had been the first day she’d kissed him too, and tempted him from his melancholy by insisting she had always wanted to fence. He had happily or perhaps a bit desperately obliged, and many pleasant afternoons ha

d passed by the lake with Elliot teaching her to fence.

How glorious those times had been. Suddenly the stately walls of her parents’ country home felt as if they were beginning to close on her. Emma never did anything daring, not anymore. And she so wanted to, quite desperately. “I would like to go rowing,” she said softly.

Surprise and pleasure flared in his eyes. He immediately stood and held out his hands.

Emma's eyes widened. Her teacup clattered loudly in the saucer, and it took her several seconds to recover. “Now?”

“Let’s seize this rare and unmatched moment. I shan’t give you the opportunity to change your mind.”

Drat. He was right for her good sense was already reasserting itself. She stood, and collected her walking cane. “Shall we?”

She sucked in an audible breath at the brilliant heat that flared in his eyes. Several minutes later, they were walking along the path that would take them to the large lake that spanned for several miles. Her feet ached, and to her mortification, she stumbled a few times.

“Forgive me, Elliot, I—”

A surprised cry tore from her when he stepped behind her and swung her into his arms. “Your Grace, whatever are you doing?” she whispered furiously. He made no reply, and she gazed at him in uncertain silence. “What if we are seen?”

“By whom? The servants?” he said with such an unconcerned mien she wanted to slap him.

“Elliot put me down at once.”

He stopped and peered down at her nestled in his arms. “Is your foot hurting?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is my pleasure to carry you.”

“We could go back for a curricle,” she said with narrowed eyes. “Or my wheeled chair.” The very idea burned along her nerve ending with discomfort.

His chin lifted toward the distance, and she turned her head.

“Can you see the lake, feel it beckoning to us?”

She swallowed, lifting her face to the gentle breeze that moved over the land. “Yes.”

His expression became thoughtful. “Why waste time turning back when we’re are almost there? My dear Emma, are you so alarmed to be in my arms?” His voice was very soft now.

At a loss for the proper response, she relaxed into his arms, and he continued walking ahead. Her arms gripped his shoulders, and she fought the need to get closer. He showed no sign of tiring, and she had to admire his endurance. A flush ran over her entire body as she recalled how tireless and insatiable he had been that night too. Dear God, she hoped he would not question the sudden brightness of her skin.

Finally, he set her down, and she shot him a disgruntled look.

“There are boats already on the lake. You seemed so sure, I would capitulate, weren’t you?”

He looked back at her, his eyes alight with humor. “I was more hopeful.”

They walked along the small boardwalk that stretched out into the waters. He went into the boat, and his hands grasped her waist to direct her as she began to move—clumsily, at first, then she was settled in quite comfortably. Elliot stripped off his coat and folded it neatly. Pleasure blasted through her that he had set oars for her as well.

That had always been one of the things she enjoyed so much about Elliot. He did not treat her as a delicate and helpless flower. She grabbed her oars, one in each arm and leaned back slightly a wide smile on her lips. He took up his, and they rowed.

It was peaceful, it was exhilarating, and a lump formed in her throat. “The last time I rowed was before the accident.”

“I should have been back and—”

“No,” she said with a smile, admiring the ripple of his muscles underneath his shirt with each push and pull of the oars. “I should have insisted Anthony take me, or ventured out myself.”

He gave her a long, unreadable look. And how Emma wished she had the courage to ask why he had visited her now. Instead, she immersed herself in the tranquil beauty of the lake, exhilarating in the slight burn in the muscles of her arms as they rowed across the lake. It took several minutes to realize they were headed in the direction of the cottage he had lived in with his family.

Tags: Stacy Reid Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net