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“You wish me to read it?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes.”

Puzzled, she lowered her hand from his arm and took the proffered letter. Raising questioning eyes to his, she hesitated.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged.

Unfolding the piece of paper, she began to read. By the time she finished the second paragraph, a lump had formed in her throat. “Mr. Dalton wants to meet with you,” she said. “Will you agree to it?”

“Yes.” There was no vacillating. “I will do everything in my power to aid him in his research.”

“And now you know for certain that you are not alone in suffering from this ailment.”

He nodded. “Dalton confirmed it, but it was you who offered me the first glimmer of hope that I might find some answers. You are the one to whom I owe my deepest gratitude.” He reached out and brushed a stray hair from her face, his fingers skimming her skin. Her breath caught, and his gaze darted from her eyes to her lips. His fingers stilled.

“Henry?” she whispered.

“Forgive me, Emily.” His low voice sent a tremor through her. “I did not tell you the whole truth. My feelings for you, they are . . . they are so much more than gratitude.”

She met his eyes and saw a reflection of her own vulnerability there. “What makes you think so?” she whispered.

“They’re urging me to do very ungrateful-like things.”

A thousand butterflies danced in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

“I have an overwhelming compulsion to personally escort Culham off Aunt Millward’s property if he ever comes to call upon you again.”

“I would be very grateful for that,” she said.

“What about my strong desire to hold your hand in mine whenever the opportunity arises?”

She felt her cheeks color but did not look away. “I like that one just as much as the first.”

“So do I.” He threaded his fingers between hers. “And it leads directly into my desperate wish to officially court you.”

Joy filled her heart. “I believe that is your very best ungrateful-like feeling of all.”

“Does that mean you are willing to allow this red-campion digging gentleman to claim that role in your life?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “A hundred times yes.” And then a thought struck her. “Do you need to ask Adam? He is gone for several more days.”

“I will speak with him upon his return, but in his absence, I will tell Aunt Millward that she is to turn away any other gentleman who comes to the door.”

“I rather think she will be pleased with that assignment.”

“Good,” he said, releasing her hand so that he might wrap his arms around her and draw her close. “Because I’ve just been hit with another very ungrateful-like inclination.”

She did not ask what it was. There was no need. The air around them seemed to still, and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her chest. Slowly, he lowered his head until he was so close she could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. He whispered her name, and a wave of longing coursed through her. She leaned into him, and his lips met hers.

Chapter 22

Henry was lost. Completely and utterly. He’d not meant for his kiss to be anything more than a fleeting manifestation of his growing affection for Emily, but now that she was in his arms and her lips were on his, he didn’t want to be found. Ever.

Somewhere high above him, a bird sang. A light breeze teased his hair, bringing with it the faint scent of lily of the valley and a renewed awareness of where he was. Emily shifted slightly, and he released his hold on her, reluctantly drawing back. She blinked as though struggling to bring her eyes into focus, and then she saw him watching her and smiled. A sweet, shy smile that made his heart ache to gather her into his arms once more. She was as pure as she was kind, as intelligent as she was beautiful, and if his current feelings were anything to go by, he had fallen headlong in love with her.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing Adam is not here at the moment,” she said.

It was a mindful reminder, and Henry took another step back. “It’s a very good thing,” he agreed, reaching for her hand as the reality of their situation sank in. If the baron had witnessed that kiss, Henry would have been fortunate to escape the house with his life. Even now, he may have to face an all-too-knowing Aunt Millward. He glanced at the white flowers nearby. “What can you tell me about the lily of the valley if Aunt Millward asks?”