Page 36 of Scarlett

Chapter Eleven

Scarlett attempted to eat. The food, as usual, barely held flavor. It didn’t matter what she cooked, food hadn’t tasted good since she’d left Pennsylvania.

Interesting that the last meal she remembered enjoying had been at Lady Price’s home.

At supper for the last several days, Emmett studied her as they ate. He’d been acting strangely, almost awkward. Which was bizarre since the man had barely seemed bothered by anything since she’d met him.

Scarlett had decided not to abandon her marriage, to remain in town and fill her life with friendships. She hoped to be blessed with children who would fill the void between her and Emmett.

“Have you always had a small appetite?”

Scarlett shook her head. “No. I am not sure what causes me to not care for the taste of most things.”

When his gaze swept over her, it was as if he were truly concerned. “It seems to me you’ve lost too much weight. I’d like to examine you tonight before bed.”

Once again, she wasn't sure what brought such a change in him. Since her fall, he’d seemed more attentive. “Yes, of course.”

When she picked up the plates he followed her to the kitchen and helped dry them after she washed them. “Growing up, my brothers and I spent a great deal of time in the kitchen. Since our parents were often gone to social events, the cook was a sort of substitute parent. She often put us to work and we didn’t mind since she paid with sweets.”

Scarlett smiled. “It’s a nice memory. My mother loved to cook, but she rarely allowed me to help. She was overprotective and didn’t want me to hurt myself. I wish now she would’ve.”

Leaning forward, he took her hand. Scarlett couldn't help the reaction of wanting to snatch it away. Instead she took a deep breath and assumed a pleasant expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“There is no need to apologize. I didn’t tell you.”

“Everyone else knew. As your husband, I should have known.”

Unsure where he intended the conversation to go, Scarlett remained quiet. She studied her husband’s handsome face and imagined what it would be like to be allowed past the wall he’d erected between them.

Other than when making love, when he was most vulnerable and open to her, it was as if they were merely acquaintances.

“We are not friends, Emmett.” Scarlett decided to be frank. “You keep me at a distance and I’m doing my best to not trespass.”

His gaze fell to their joined hands. “I want to be a better husband to you. You deserve better than how I’ve been treating you.”

Struck speechless, Scarlett was shocked at noting vulnerability in his gaze. “I can’t complain. You provide for me and give me a comfortable life. You don’t restrict me from going and doing what I please.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I hate to admit this. I haven’t taken the time to know what things you prefer to do. I hope to learn what your preferences are.” Searching her face, his gaze became warm, soft, not at all what she’d ever expect from her husband.

Although too afraid to hope, warmth spread inside her chest. It could be an answer to her prayers that her husband would grow to care for her.

Emmett released tugged her back to the dining room. “I have something for you. It’s very late, but I had to wait for it to arrive.”

He went to the cabinet by the door and retrieved a box. Bringing it to Scarlett, he placed it in front of her. “It’s a late birthday gift. I hope you like it.”

Maintaining eye contact, she could only attempt at a smile. Whatever was happening? “Thank you.”

With an expectant expression, he watched as she untied a pretty blue ribbon and opened the gift. A beautiful silk item was neatly folded. In the center of it was nestled a smaller box.

She placed the small box aside and lifted the silk piece to reveal a beautiful shift. Scarlett brought it to her face. “It’s so soft and beautiful. I have never owned something so fancy.”

Emmett’s lips curved. “I thought you’d enjoy it under your dresses.” He looked to the smaller box, silently urging her to open it.

It was a broach. A white Camellia and a bud with green leaves framing them. It was exquisite and much too extravagant for her. “It-it’s breathtaking. I-I love it,” Scarlett stuttered running her fingers over the piece. “It reminds me of Lady Price’s garden.”

“I’m glad you like them. You deserve more.”

Scarlett picked up the broach and smiled. She’d never owned anything so beautiful.