Page 63 of The Mister I Married

Chapter Sixteen

“Another fine Berkshire morning,” Alex said to no one in particular as he walked the Bristlewood grounds with Prescott and Gracie later that week.

In his opinion, of course, every morning in Berkshire was fine, no matter the time of year. He’d lived here his whole life, and still the beauty in its hills and forests took his breath away. It was the only home he’d ever known and the only one he wanted.

He wanted Emmy to love it, too, and he’d asked her to join him and the dogs on their walk this morning, but she’d declined. She’d been working so hard on this dinner party of hers, and he’d thought the fresh air would do her some good.

Selfishly, he’d also wanted to spend some time alone with her.

He saw her nearly every morning at breakfast, and then again each evening at dinner, but the only time he had her all to himself was at night in her bedchamber. And then he left to sleep in his own.

He wanted more than that.

With a heavy sigh, Alex slowed to a stop on the lawn and passed his gaze over the area in search of the dogs. He found Prescott chasing after a butterfly, though it was a halfhearted pursuit at best for he was no hunting hound. Gracie, ever the responsible older sister, was lying in the grass, supervising.

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, Alex tipped his head back and closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his cheeks.

Emmy’s face ghosted through his mind, and again he thought back to their talk in his study. To the flicker of heat in her eyes, and the way she’d leaned into him, asking for a kiss.

He’d denied her, though—and himself—and it was as much an attempt to respect her boundaries as it was to protect himself against another rebuff.

Still, his heart had grasped onto that moment, that flicker of desire in her eyes, and the subsequent disappointment when he’d denied her. It refused to let go now. That moment had given him hope—false, perhaps, but he could not quash it, so he had decided to give in to it instead.

He was done fighting the wants of his heart. He wanted more from Emmy, and he was prepared to work for it. He would not make demands of her, or pressure her, or try to bribe her. There would be no emotional manipulation. He meant to woo her, plain and simple.

After he and the dogs had finished their walk of the grounds, they returned to the house. Alex went in search of his wife and found her precisely where he’d expected to: in the rose salon with Tess.

Unnoticed, he paused in the doorway and watched the two of them together—Emmy curled up on the sofa, studying her plans for the dinner menu, while Tess sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a magazine laid out on the sofa table.

Alex smiled. His sister appeared to be in the throes of a monumental decision on how she ought to style her hair for the dinner party. The upcoming dinner was all they’d talked of these last few days, and he might have been sick to death of hearing about it if they weren’t so excited.

Even his father seemed to be looking forward to it, which came as no small surprise. Alex had assured him it would be a casual, intimate affair with only a handful of their neighbors, and his father had barely batted an eye.

He only hoped this sanguine attitude would last all the way through the dinner party. He wanted the evening to go well, for Emmy’s sake, and for his sister’s, too. Tess seemed so excited to get to know her neighbors and make new friends.

He wished he’d realized sooner how much she wanted this, but it had honestly never occurred to him. She’d never mentioned it, and he’d never thought to ask. He should have.

Yet another reason to appreciate his wife and the changes she brought.

“Here you two are,” he said, strolling into the room. “How is your dinner party coming along?”

Emmy sighed. “There is still much to do, but I think it is coming along well.”

“It is coming along marvelously well,” Tess assured her before turning to Alex. “Now, what say you, brother? The plaits or the ribbons?”

She held out the magazine for his inspection and Alex leaned down to study the fashion plates. He never was entirely comfortable giving his opinion on matters such as these—surely no man was—but his sister would pester him until he gave her an answer, so finally he said, “The plaits?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Emmy said the same, but I am rather partial to the ribbons.”

Alex shrugged. “So wear the ribbons.”

“Emmy said that, as well,” Emmy intoned, her smile wry.

“So you did,” Tess said with a laugh. “I suppose I’m feeling a bit nervous about this dinner. I just want to make a good first impression.”

“And you shall,” Emmy said. “Remember, you charmed some of the most sophisticated snobs in London. Your Gladwin neighbors should be no trouble at all.”

“I hope you’re right.”