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At the mention of Garrick, Emma’s heart skipped a beat.

“He is quite honorable.”

Too much so.

“If only he were not already betrothed . . .” Though her brother attempted to sound casual, Emma knew him too well to be fooled.

He suspected the truth.

“His future wife is very lucky,” she conceded.

Geoffrey continued to watch her. But she would not give him more than that. “Perhaps we should discuss—”

“Nay, I think we should not,” she said.

He frowned, but she’d not be intimidated by his stare.

After a long, tense moment, he finally conceded. “We should be going.”

“May I speak to Lady Emma first?”

They both turned at the sound. Garrick stood in the doorway, filling it as only he could. Emma stole a glance at her brother.

Aye, her brother knew the truth, or at least some approximation of it. Was it the way Garrick looked at her, or she at him? Or perhaps it was something else altogether?

Geoffrey inclined his head to her. Striding from the room, he stopped just before reaching their host. Emma was sure Geoffrey would say something to him, but instead he turned back to her.

“The others will be waiting.”

With that, he was gone.

He’d left the doors open, of course.

Garrick took a step toward her, and then another. Emma wanted to weep. To scream. To laugh with the joy of being with him just once more.

“You took a chance,” she said, referring to his request to speak with her alone. Though he’d not said as much aloud, the implication had been obvious to all of them.

“I will take another. And another. Anything to be with you.”

She could tell he meant it.

“I would wrap my arms around you,” she said.

Garrick shook his head. “If you did, I’d be forced to kiss you. I would make you mine this instant, Emma, if I could.”

“I will wait,” she said. “But how can I put off Sowlis’s visit?”

“Find a way,” he said. “I will come to you, I promise.”

She believed him. And she knew in her heart she would wait for him. She’d wait an entire lifetime if necessary. Her love for him had caught her unawares, but there was no denying the force of it.

“I love you, Garrick,” she whispered, the words coming as easily as if she’d said them many times before.

“And I love you, Emma,” he said. “I will come to you,” he repeated.

She didn’t ask when. Garrick’s task was a difficult one. But he had promised, and she believed him.

“I must go.” With a final backward glance at the earl who had captured her heart, Emma walked from the room.