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She knew most people looked the other way when a widow took a lover. Even the queen, who generally disapproved of carnal relations outside of marriage, generally pretended not to know when one of her ministers took a mistress or gossip swirled that a lady-in-waiting had a lover not her husband.
But Emily had never been to bed with any man save Jack. She’d been a virgin when they married, and he’d only been dead two years. What would it be like to allow another man to touch her, stroke her, slide inside her?
What would it be like to allow Willoughby Galloway to do so?
She shivered with need at the thought. If it was anything like the kiss they’d shared in the gardens, it would be brilliant.
“That will be all, Lady Averley,” the queen said as her maid approached with a brush to smooth her hair.
Emily curtseyed and made her way toward the retinue waiting for the queen.
Of course, the first person she saw was Galloway. She felt her cheeks heat upon seeing him, and since she was so fair skinned, he couldn’t help but notice. He seemed to take pity on her and pretended not to see the color rise. She would probably have combusted if he’d winked or given her some salacious sign that he knew what she was thinking about. But of course, he must be remembering their kiss as well. Only he looked very cool and self-assured, while Emily had to reach for her fan and wave it in front of her face.
Lady Jocelyn approached. “Are you too warm already, Lady Averley? You and I will have to stay in the shade together. Do you have your parasol?”
“Of course.” She held up her pale blue parasol, which matched her dress. “And the carriages are closed, which means we will not have to endure the sun on the trip there.”
“Yes, but it will be stuffy inside,” Lady Jocelyn complained. “I tried to persuade Her Majesty to take an open carriage, but she said that because of those awful Irishmen, we have to take extra precautions. Prince Albert only agreed to this excursion today because the queen threatened to make him take her boating on the Serpentine if he didn’t. Of course, Hyde Park is not as safe as Richmond.”
Emily nodded. “This cage is gilded,” she said, gesturing to the palace, “but it’s still a cage.”
Victoria finally emerged and the party departed. Emily was endlessly thankful that Galloway had opted to ride outside the carriage rather than sit inside. She couldn’t have borne having tolook at him, seated across from her for an hour or more. Instead, she had to listen to the duchess snore quietly as the carriage bumped along behind that of the queen. Of course, all Emily need do is look out the window to observe Galloway. He tended to ride just outside her window.
Finally, the party arrived at the picnic grounds, a lovely spot near the water, where tents and tables and blankets had already been arranged for the royal party. Everyone was hungry and sat down to eat. Emily tried to focus on the conversation and not on Galloway, but it was difficult. Finally, the prince and some of his companions decided to race boats along the Thames. The queen seemed content to sit in a chair, Lady Jocelyn at her side, and watch the boats or her children playing. The Duchess of Charlemont dozed again, and Emily, who was too stirred by the presence of Galloway to relax, decided to walk about nearby and pick flowers. Her chambers would smell lovely with a vase of fresh wildflowers inside.
She passed Galloway, who was standing on the shore watching the men move their boats into position, and began to pluck wildflowers, laying each in her basket. She couldn’t manage the basket and her parasol, so she had left the parasol near the picnic area. Without the parasol to block her view of the surroundings, she caught the glint of something in the sun. It was in the direction of the trees, not the water, and she turned in that direction just as she heard the loud blast.
She knew the sound. She’d heard it often enough during hunting season in the countryside. It was the sound of a rifle. Her gaze landed on a man crouched in the trees and froze when she saw the rifle was pointed at her.
No, not her. Just beyond her. And who was just beyond her? The queen sat only a few yards away, in a direct line behind Emily.
The sound of the rifle echoed again, the noise muted somehow, as though she heard it through a thick fog or underwater. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, though she knew she should go to the queen.
She tried to do so, but her legs gave out and she dropped to the ground. As soon as she landed on the hard earth, all of her senses rushed back to her. She couldn’t make sense of them at first, but she turned her head and heard shouts from the men in the boats. They had jumped off their watercraft and were splashing toward shore and the queen. The children were screaming and crying. The duchess was screeching, and it seemed that rifle blast still echoed in the air.
And then to her surprise Willoughby Galloway was kneeling by her side. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
Emily looked into his eyes. “You have such pretty eyes,” she said. Her voice sounded far away, and Will’s eyes began to seem blurry.
“Are you hurt?” Now his voice sounded as though it had acquired an echo.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. More shouts drew her attention, and she spotted royal guards swarming around the queen and the prince and shepherding them away. Other guards raced toward the woods and the direction of the man with the rifle. Everything seemed to be happening so slowly, as though everyone she watched was swimming in water. “I must go to the queen.” Emily tried to rise, but her legs didn’t want to cooperate. “Can you help me rise?”
“I think you’d better stay where you are.” His voice was calm, but she heard the concern in it.
“I can’t. I...” But as she tried to rise again, her vision dimmed. Strong arms caught her before she could fall back. “I need a moment,” she said.
He smelled so good. She knew she shouldn’t allow him to hold her, but she couldn’t seem to open her eyes or rise from the ground.
He was yelling something, but she couldn’t focus on it. She felt a throbbing in her legs. Something was wrong there. Very wrong.
“Mr. Galloway,” she whispered.
“Just hold on, Emily,” he ordered. “Open your eyes.”
“Can’t,” she murmured. “Will you...will you stay with me?”
“I won’t leave you. But I need you to stay with me. Open your eyes, Emily.”
