Sinking into the chair, she folded her hands atop one another on the table. “They are quite good. In the last six days, I’ve noted three gentlemen with a distinct interest in her. You can rest assured that the loss of one suitor has not tainted the interest of the others. All are of acceptable family backgrounds. All handsome gentlemen who have treated her with respect.”
“Does any one of them seem to favor her more than others?”
“Not particularly.”
“Does she favor any one of them more than the other?”
Emma curled her fingers into her palms. “Not particularly.”
“You sound frustrated.” He placed his forearm on the table, his hand resting a few inches from her own. His naked hand. His naked forearm, shirtsleeves rolled above his elbow. Veins snaked up his muscled arm, and dark crisp hair brushed upward into the cuff of his sleeves. His hand… she’d held it, knew those long fingers to be strong as well. Clearly society had the right of it—men should never bare their forearms to women’s sight. Much too tempting, much too quick to boil a woman’s blood. Emma’s blood at least.
“I am frustrated,” she snapped. Not frustrated enough for bad manners. Had a bit of a man’s arm truly unnerved her so? “Apologies. It is only that for a woman willing to be matched, she does not seem terribly inspired. Natural, I suppose, if her heart was broken.”
“Perhaps…” His fingers twitched. “But no. Continue. What other observations do you have for me.”
“I think not. I’d rather know what you were about to say.”
“You told me not to interfere.”
Of course, she would find the first man to listen to her seriously, intriguing enough to break her own rules. “I’m too curious now. You must tell me.”
“Do you ever defer to anyone?”
“Not if I can help it. Does it bother you?”
“Not in the least.”
Thrilling, that, to have a powerful man respect her independence, her curiosity and intellect. She leaned forward, her hands sliding across the table, nudging his hand and sparking red across his cheeks. She yanked her arms into her lap. “Do tell me. Please? Your observations and questions may offer insight.”
He stood and faced the window, raked a hand through his hair. “When I was studying courtship, I seemed to have one rule that proved useful.”
“Only one?”
“Yes,” he growled. “But it was a good one. Never woo the wrong lady.”
She scratched at the fabric of her skirts. “Thatisrather good. Quite true, actually. A marriage between two mismatched minds is a disaster.”
He faced her, something like shock making his mouth softer. “Thank you.” He shook the shock away and leaned against the window frame, crossing his arms over his chest, revealing it to be quite a broad span of muscle. “The devil of it is… how does a chap know which lady is right and which is wrong? I never quite figured that part out, and every time I thought I knew who the right chap for one of my sisters was”—he threw his arms out wide—“I was wrong!” He hung his head for a breath, and when he looked at her once more, a lock of hair had come loose and hung over his eye. “What I am trying to say is that perhaps if one of the gentlemen showed more interest in her, she’d show more interest in him. But perhaps they cannot because they do not know if she is the right woman for them.”
Oh. Oh my. This man was confusion itself. A sweet sort of confused that reminded her a bit of a puppy dog.
With a bit of a growl, he swung toward the box of blades, swept one up, and tossed it without looking.
A sweet, confused puppy with deadly aim. Right.
When he did not join her again but began to fiddle with the knives, she joined him.
“Those are all excellent queries and concerns, Your Grace.”
He grunted as he lifted another knife, tossed it in the air, caught it by the blade, and sent it flying toward the tree.Thunk—it hit the very center.
She stood behind him, hands clasped behind her back. “Never woo the wrong lady. It’s excellent advice.”
He whipped around, throwing his arms out wide. “It is! Yet I’m nothing but a joke.”
She cleared her throat. “I do remember you offering some other rule. About no flowers. And another about no kissing until marriage?”
“Flowers are unoriginal. And what if the lady is allergic?”
