AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Kit was her orchids’ last hope. Or rather, his hothouse was. His country home, Ashford Court, was famous in horticultural circles for its unusual greenhouse, heated entirely by naturally occurring geothermal springs. It would be the best possible place for her orchids to bloom.
She would make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
When he reappeared with the two remaining plants nestled in his arms she sent him a grateful smile as he deposited them at her feet in the carriage.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, and she opened the door of the carriage wider. “Won’t you come in here for a minute? There’s something I wish to discuss.”
Chapter 3
Kit stared up at Emma’s eager expression and tried to hide his own sense of bemusement. She’d always been attractive, but nothing could have prepared him for the full-blown ravishing beauty she’d blossomed into during their time apart. Admittedly, he hadn’t been much in female company for the past year or so, but it was hard not to stare like a simpleton.
In his cell he’d often imagined a perfect woman there beside him, as a distraction. Lady Emma Townsend was better than any fantasy girl he’d ever dreamed up. Her smooth skin was touched with an unfashionable hint of sun, and when they’d been chest-to-chest her lips had been so close that he could have dipped his head and tasted her.
He’d been so tempted.
When he’d heard the snap of the crane above them he’d reacted instinctively, throwing his body against hers. At any other time his heart would have been hammering because of the near-miss or because he disliked the oppressive feeling of being belowdecks. Such small, enclosed spaces reminded him of his imprisonment. But his elevated pulse and tight chest had been for an entirely different reason—her.
Everything had come sharply into focus. Her green eyes, wide with alarm, the delicious press of her breasts against his chest. The light, floral fragrance of her perfume.
His cock twitched in his breeches.
For the first time in eighteen months, he felt fully awake, alive in every part of his body. It was as if he’d been half-asleep and was only now waking up.
Because of her.
With a grunt, he stepped up into the carriage.
Emma sat backagainst the velvet seat as Kit settled opposite her. His large body dominated the small space.
“Do you often spend your time at Deptford docks masquerading as a porter, Lord Ashford?” she said lightly.
His lips twitched at her teasing tone. “I wasn’t masquerading as anything. You’re the one who made the assumption. And please, call me Kit. I think saving you from certain peril means we can skip the formalities.”
Heat scalded her cheeks at the reminder of her body pressed to his, at how close his lips had been to hers.
He leaned forward and reached into the pocket of his greatcoat, and his expression sobered. “Actually, I came to find you. I need to give you this.”
Emma glanced down at the object in his palm and her heart clenched in anguish as she recognized the small silver locket.
“Oh! That was mine! I gave it to Andrew when he left for war.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Seeing it again was like a punch to the gut.
Kit nodded. “I know. The two of us were held in the same prison cell for the last six months of his life.” His voice was low, full of compassion. “I was with him when he died. He wanted you to have it. He asked me to give it to you.”
Emma swallowed hard, determined not to cry. “Thank you.” She managed a watery smile. “Forgive me. I know he’s gone but this makes it . . . morerealsomehow. I’ve been pretending that he’s simply sailing around the world, having adventures, like myself. It’s hard to accept that he really is dead.”
Kit’s strong fingers gave hers a comforting squeeze as he closed her fist around the treasure.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t wish to cause you pain. I did everything in my power to save him, but he was simply too ill. If it’s any consolation, he didn’t suffer for long. He slipped away not long after he tasked me with returning that to you.”
The roughness of his voice revealed his own pain and regret, and Emma sent him a commiserating glance. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I’m glad he had someone with him, for comfort, at the end.”
Kit nodded, then cleared his own throat and leaned back in his seat. The carriage rocked on its springs.
“So. My promise is kept.” He reached for the door handle. “I’ll bid you goodbye, Lady Emma.”
