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Though he’d known Sara since childhood, he could not say the same for her husband. The earl’s easy request for Garrick to use his given name confirmed the words he’d said before.

“Garrick Helmsley. Brother-in-law.” Sara’s broad smile was infectious enough for him to stop thinking, for the moment, of Graeme de Sowlis and Emma’s ready acceptance of his offer.

“Pardon me,” Emma interrupted.

He’d been deliberately indiscreet, and though this was hardly the proper place for it, Garrick did not wish to wait. “Aye, my lady?”

He tried not to smile, unsure of why he felt the urge to tease her when his mood had been so dark just moments before. She was simply too easily incensed, and the thought of doing this for years to come was one that filled him with happiness.

Her eyes widened. “Did you not wish to include me in this particular conversation?”

At least they would never be bored.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” He pretended to see the meal between them for the first time, and pulling out his knife, he cut a portion of the fish, the best portion, and slid it to Emma. He then took a bite for himself. “You know, my father attempted to steal Cook away from Kenshire many times. She—”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the meal,” Emma said.

She was up to something.

Taking the portion he’d cut for her, she picked it up between her thumb and forefinger, popped it into her mouth, and then proceeded to lick both fingers just enough for his cock to respond—though not enough for others to take notice.

“Emma . . .”

She did the same with the second portion, this time licking her lips when she was through. It had been too long since he’d tasted those lips.

Of course, that thought led to another.

Outside of his dreams, he’d tried not to imagine taking Emma as his own. Every time his thoughts wandered that way in the past, he had stopped them.

But now he gave his mind free rein. Continuing to watch her deliberately entice him, he could think of nothing else. He had to remember where they were. Who sat next to them.

And though Sara and Geoffrey carried on a conversation between themselves, the four of them were on display in a room full of retainers. They were not yet alone.

But she’d won this battle.

“Stop,” he insisted.

She looked at him questioningly.

“I want you,” he said. “I need you.”

Emma turned serious.

“Will you be my wife, Emma Waryn?”

She reached for his hand, only to pull it back. Her eyes shifted to the crowded hall before returning to him.

“’Tis so difficult not to touch you,” she said.

Oh God, she had no idea.

“Aye, Garrick. I will be your wife, gladly.”

When she reached for her goblet, he took advantage, placing his hand over hers and pretending to help her guide it to her lips.

Pulling his hand away, he made a promise he intended to keep. “I will love you, Emma Waryn, every day for the rest of our lives.” And then lower, to ensure they were not overheard, “Starting this evening.”

She blinked, understanding creeping into her expression.