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Had he? It was entirely likely. He’d begun to think of her asEmilyin his mind. “I called you Emily?”
She scowled at him, and he could hardly be sorry for using her name again when she looked so adorably annoyed.
“You’ve done it again, sir.”
“Perhaps you should call me Will—as retribution, of course.” He gave her a charming smile.
“I’d rather you refer to me as Lady Averley, and I will call you Mr. Galloway.”
Apparently, the smile hadn’t worked. “By all means.” He gave her a bow. “I apologize for my familiarity. It won’t happen again.”
He straightened. Her brow furrowed. “I—thank you.”
He took in her bewildered expression. “You thought I would argue or attempt to take more liberties?”
“No.”
He raised a brow.
“Very well. I suppose I didn’t expect you to agree quite so readily.”
Will had a moment to wonder if she hadn’t expected him to agree or hadn’twantedhim to agree. He took in the blue gown again. “You are not wearing mourning attire.”
Her pale cheeks immediately turned pink. “No, I am not.”
As she didn’t appear inclined to say anything further on the matter, he took a step closer. “I don’t suppose that has anything to do with our conversation last night.”
“My decisions have absolutely nothing to do with you, sir.”
She’d said that a little too quickly, and he caught the hint of defensiveness in her tone.
“I’m sure they don’t, my lady. But that doesn’t mean I can’t admire that gown or you.” He moved closer again, and she didn’t step back. In fact, he watched her eyes grow darker. She was definitely attracted to him. This was what he’d wanted when he’d accepted this mission. He hadn’t counted on feeling the same toward her. “Shall I escort you inside?” he asked, thinking of the parlor where he’d gone earlier. It was empty, the perfect place to close the door and steal a kiss.
“I must get back to the queen,” she said, finally stepping away. “Good day.” She turned and walked at an unhurried pace back toward the queen and her ladies. Will shouldn’t have watched her go, but why resist temptation now?
“IS ANYTHING AMISS?”Lady Jocelyn asked when Emily returned to the games.
“Not at all,” Emily answered. “Why do you ask?” She certainly hoped no one had seen her speaking to Mr. Galloway, or if they had, she hoped they assumed it was nothing more than a polite exchange.
“Your face is flushed. I thought you might be overly warm.”
Shewasoverly warm. Something about the way Galloway looked at her made her corset feel too tight and her dress too heavy. She wished she had a fan so she might cool off. Instead, she angled her parasol to block the sun and lifted her face to catch the faint breeze. “A bit too much sun, I think,” Emily said. They watched the queen roll a ball toward the jack and then each took a turn. Emily was usually quite good at the game, but today her ball went very far off course.
She could blame that on Mr. Galloway too. She’d add a poor game of lawn bowls to a poor night’s sleep, a horrid game of croquet, and her flushed cheeks.
“I still cannot believe how pretty you look in that blue,” Lady Jocelyn said as the prince took a turn and they both stood back. “I’m so glad you decided to put your mourning away.”
“You have been telling me it was time for weeks. I finally listened.”
Lady Jocelyn leaned close so that their parasols touched. “I believe Mr. Galloway noticed your new attire as well. I caught him watching you during croquet.”
“I’m sure that’s only because he was keeping score.”
But Emily had felt him watching her as well. She’d caught his gaze on her more than once and, though she didn’t like to admit what that gaze did to her, she couldn’t deny much of her breathlessness earlier had more to do with feeling his eyes on her than the tightness of her corset.
She’d told herself last night that she would set him straight. Clearly, she needed to deal with herself first. Mr. Galloway might be an attractive man, but she would not become romantically involved with him. She would not kiss him. She would not think about him. And she absolutely would not wake up in the mornings after dreaming about his mouth trailing along her bare shoulder.
Emily closed her eyes. What was wrong with her? She had been married long enough to know that women too had needs, but since Jack’s death she hadn’t even thought of her own desires. Now they’d been let out of the box, and like a kindle of kittens, she couldn’t seem to catch and confine them again. As soon as she gained control of one errant thought or image, another took its place.
