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Emily blinked several times. “I beg your pardon?”
“That clawing mother of his has him convinced he’s not husband material. Her manipulations are always multilayered. But an heir would be the quickest way to cut her out of the conversation completely. She’s hung her hat on her other son becoming the baron and putting her back into a position of power in the barony. I would like nothing more than to see you and he wed.”
“He doesn’t want—”
“Don’t be a fool, girl. I’ve seen a thousand men want a thousand women and that one wants you.”
She shook her head. “He’s Ash’s friend. He’s just trying to be loyal…”
Clara gave her a pat on the cheek. “My dear. Think long and hard about what you want from Jacob because, if we’re being honest, it’s within your power to receive all of it.”
Emily seriously doubted that was true. The older, rakish, titled lord was not going to give little, meek Emily Cranston whatever she wished. The idea was absurd.
Wasn’t it?
The scenery might have been lovely, but none of it compared to the woman sitting across from Jacob. Emily’s profile was lit by the sun as she stared out the window.
He tried to decide if she’d been more beautiful by moonlight or sunlight and finally determined that he’d need to see her in both several more times to decide.
Clara began to hum, though when he looked at her, he realized that she was staring back at him.
He shifted, grimacing, knowing he’d been caught studying Emily. Clara quirked a brow, looking both attractive and oddly not like herself in her lack of makeup and her hair coifed in simple style. She looked like a matron, the sort that might tell him what he ought to be doing with his life.
And right now, he knew what she’d say. Marry Emily. He did look out the window then, pretending to watch the bucolic fields roll by, intimately aware of every shift that Emily made until he thought he might go mad.
He was a seasoned rake, for Christ’s sake. How had Emily, an innocent, gotten so completely under his skin?
But it was that innocence he found so refreshing. She was honest, kind, and sweet. It made him want to fight the world to protect those qualities. And here she wished to be more mature.
He supposed everyone did, but he’d like to see her maintain her wonderful qualities a little longer. Some of them, he had this ridiculous wish to keep them safe forever.
And then there was his attraction to her. It pulsed through him like nothing he’d felt before, at least not that he could remember. It didn’t help that she was always looking at him like he mattered.
Like, to her, he might just be worth a damn.
His fingers clenched in the curtains as a muscle in his jaw ticked. Why had he not realized that he’d wanted some woman to look at him the way Emily had this morning? And the words she’d spoken last night about his mother being wrong…
It was as though she were pushing at his soft spots, finding the ways into his… He didn’t finish that thought as he looked over at his knuckles and realized they’d turned white around the gauzy fabric.
He forced his fingers to relax.
“What shall we talk about?” Clara asked, sounding very amused. “The fine weather? The good company?”
Emily looked away from the window, smiling at Clara. “Rain would make this entire affair much more difficult.”
Rain? Weather? He snorted. That’s what they were going to discuss? “Ladies.”
But the sound of distant hooves caught his notice.
There seemed to be more than one horse and they were moving quickly. His gaze narrowed as he thumped the wall behind him. “Pull off into that patch of woods ahead. Hurry.”
The carriage sped up, the black vehicle, pulling off the road and into the patch of woods.
He was out of the carriage in a moment, leaving a stunned Emily and Clara in the vehicle as he ducked through the trees back to the road.
Three men came barreling down the road on horseback, speeding by. His gaze narrowed as he began darting through the woods, to follow, as they drew up their mounts at the edge of the woods.
“Where did it go?” one called to the others, slapping his hat on his leg.
