Page 6 of A Game of Hearts

“Catullus?”

“With significant modification for propriety’s sake,” she assured him. “Do you approve?”

“It is... acceptable.”

But there was something in his voice that suggested more than mere acceptance.

“High praise indeed, my Lord.”

She couldn’t quite keep the dryness from her tone. His eyes met hers again, and for a moment, something sparked between them - a recognition, perhaps, of the absurdity of their situation. Then Lady Anne’s voice broke the moment.

“Lord Limnwood, surely you cannot mean to allow such... experimental verses? What will people think?”

Emma felt Lord Limnwood stiffen beside her at Lady Anne’s words. She waited, breath caught, to see how he would respond to this public challenge.

“I believe, Lady Anne,” he said, his voice cool and measured, “that Miss Everton and I have found an acceptable balance between classical inspiration and modern propriety.”

Emma’s surprise at his defence warred with satisfaction at Lady Anne’s barely concealed frustration. The dark-haired beauty recovered quickly, however.

“Oh, how fascinating,” Lady Anne’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I look forward to hearing your... creation this afternoon. Though I fear some of our older guests might find classical allusions rather beyond them.”

“I suspect, Lady Anne,” Emma couldn’t help responding, “that you underestimate our audience.”

The morning room had grown quiet, their exchange drawing attention. Emma saw Lady Beatrice’s encouraging smile, and Lord James’ obvious amusement at his brother being drawn into literary debates.

“Indeed,” the Duke of Pelhampton’s voice cut through the tension. “I quite look forward to all of our performances. Now then, luncheon awaits, after which we shall reconvene in the drawing room to hear our poetic offerings.”

*****

The drawing room of Pelham Hall had never seemed quite so large to Emma as it did now, watching couple after couple present their verses. Lord James and Lady Beatrice had just finished a charming exchange of romantic compliments that managed to be both proper and genuinely sweet, earning warm applause.

“Miss Everton.” Lord Limnwood’s voice drew her attention. “I believe that we are next.”

She rose, suddenly conscious of every eye upon them. They had practised their alternating verses twice, agreeing that Emma would begin. Now, standing before the assembled company, she was achingly aware of Lord Limnwood’s tall presence beside her.

Taking a deep breath, she began:

“In gardens fair where lovers meet,

Where spring’s first breath brings promise sweet,

I seek a heart both true and strong,

To match the spirit of my song.”

His deep voice took up the next verse, and Emma was startled by the richness of emotion he allowed to show:

“Through duty’s paths and honour’s ways,

Through winter nights and summer days,

I seek a heart both wise and free,

To share life’s journey faithfully.”

Their eyes met as they continued, trading verses that spoke of love’s balance between freedom and commitment, joy and duty. Emma found herself caught in his gaze, the rest of the room fading away. There was something in his expression she had never seen before - a softness, a vulnerability that made her heart beat faster.

As they finished the final coupled verses together, the applause seemed to come from very far away. Emma curtsied automatically, her mind whirling. What had just happened? For those few moments, Lord Limnwood had shown a depth of feeling she would never have suspected him capable of.