Page 64 of The Mister I Married

“Of course she’s right,” Alex broke in. “They will all adore you, just as we do.”

His sister smiled. “A biased opinion but reassuring all the same.”

Turning to Emmy, Alex said, “May I speak with you for a moment?” He nudged his head toward the door.

Her brow knit briefly but she nodded and rose to her feet, setting her papers on the sofa table before following him into the corridor.

“Is anything the matter?” Emmy asked as he drew her away from the door, clearly perplexed by his need for privacy.

Once he was certain they were out of earshot of his sister with the excellent hearing, he paused and turned to face her. “Everything is fine, I assure you. I only wanted to ask…” He cleared his throat nervously, resisting the urge to tug at his cravat. “I wanted to ask you if you’d like to join me for a picnic this afternoon. It’s a lovely day outside.”

Emmy blinked, obviously surprised by the invitation. “Oh. Well, I…would like to, Alex, but there is still so much to do for the dinner party. I really must keep working.”

“The dinner party is days away,” he reminded her, “and you’ve been cooped up inside this house all week.”

“The dinner party is three days away, and it will be my first as hostess. I want to do it right.”

He smiled. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Emmy.”

“Yes, it does, Alex,” she shot back. “Or very nearly, anyway.”

She plunked her hands on her hips and frowned at him, and he returned her stare, simultaneously charmed and annoyed by her stubbornness.

“One hour,” he implored. “That’s all I ask.”

She eyed him in silence, and he could practically hear her mind toiling, weighing the impact of one lost hour of work against one disappointed husband.

Unflattering, yes, but at least she was considering it.

“I want to spend time with you, Emmy,” he said, drawing her hands in his. “Just the two of us.”

“We spend every night together, just the two of us,” she argued, though he could see she was weakening.

He gave her hands a gentle, beseeching squeeze. “Please?”

One interminable moment later, she huffed out a tiny sigh, and Alex knew he had won.

They set out from the house at half-past one o’clock, just the two of them and a large basket packed with food.

The day was a fine one, perfect for a picnic with its warm sun and cloudless sky, the gentle breeze festooned with the subtle scents of ripening summer.

Alex stole another glance at his wife, silent beside him as they walked through the grass, a folded quilt tucked up in her arms. She wore a pale green day gown but no bonnet, and her dark brown curls gleamed in the sun, her expressionless face giving no hint as to her thoughts.

Of course, he was fairly confident he knew what she was thinking about. The same thing she’d been thinking about all week: The dinner party.

He could appreciate the importance of the event, and her desire to make sure it was a success, but he hadn’t asked her on this picnic so she could ignore him.

Say something, idiot, he ordered himself. You want her thinking of you today.

He cleared his throat, searching for something to say, acutely aware of his pulse beating against his throat. Why was he so anxious? Emmy was his wife, for pity’s sake. She was already his.

Only, she wasn’t, was she? Not entirely, anyway.

He did not have her heart.

Which was precisely why he had asked her on this picnic, wasn’t it? He was going to have to earn her love, and that meant he would have to make every moment with her count, today included.

“I think Cook packed enough food to feed all of Gladwin,” he said, switching the heavy basket to his other hand. “I hope you’re hungry.”