Page 51 of The Soldier
“It’s up to you. Sleep however you are comfortable.”
She blew out the candle before taking off her clothes and climbing in beside him.
“You will sleep?” she asked, her voice hesitant in the darkness.
“Eventually,” he replied, pushing her gently to her side, “and so will you.” He trailed his fingers over her shoulder blades then down her spine. “Relax, Emmie. I’ve given my word I will behave, and I would not lie to you.”
She sighed and gave herself up to the pleasure of having her back rubbed and then, only moments later, to the pleasure of slumber.
“Better,” he murmured, content just to touch her. The smooth, fragrant expanse of her flesh under his hands soothed him, distracted him from the rain and the rain scents coming in the windows. Her breathing evened out, and the tension in her body eased. Slowly, so as not to disturb her, he curved his naked body around hers and slipped a hand around her waist.
She sighed again and snuggled back against his chest, then laced her fingers through his. He felt himself drifting into sleep, Emmie’s hand in his, her warmth against his heart, her fragrance blotting out the memories that had denied him sleep.
Peace.Finally, finally, I have experienced that thing referred to as peace.
***
“Emmie.” St. Just stepped closer, ignoring Stevens, Douglas, and Winnie across the yard. “I do not want to leave you.”
“But you will,” she said simply, “and this journey will be good for you. Your family is anxious about you, too, and if you don’t go now, traveling will not get any easier until spring.”
“I know.” He slapped riding gloves against his thigh. “I know all that, but I also know I will miss you and Winnie and… oh, hell.”
He spun her by her shoulder and fastened his mouth to hers. It was not a chaste, parting kiss but a hot, carnal, daring, reminding kiss. He’d taken her off guard, and she was slow to respond, but when she did, it was to frame his jaw with her hand and circle her arm around his waist. She allowed him his moment, neither resisting nor encouraging, but when he broke the kiss, she stayed in his arms, resting her forehead on his chest.
“Naughty man.”
“Something to remember me by,” he murmured, pleased with himself. “Take care of Winnie, write, and I will see you in a few weeks.”
“Take care of yourself, Devlin St. Just.” She held his gaze solemnly. “Let your family love you.”
Her comment puzzled him, sounding like something Douglas might say, but there was no time to parse her meaning. He signaled to Stevens, who brought over the sturdy gelding purchased days earlier in York.
“Miss Emmie?” Lord Amery brought Winnie to her and passed Winnie’s hand into Emmie’s. “Good-bye, my dear. Winnie has assured me she will look out for your welfare, but you must know, have you need of me or my resources,at any time, you have only to call upon me.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and for the space of a slow breath, brought her against his lean frame. “I’ll look after him, Emmie, but you might consider letting him look after you, too.”
She was so startled by that whispered suggestion it barely registered when Douglas pressed a soft kiss to her cheek then stepped back. Both men mounted up, and with a final wave, cantered down the drive. The only sounds left when their hoofbeats had faded were the splashing of the fountain and Winnie’s foot scuffing in the dirt.
“I hate that they left,” Winnie announced, “and he didn’t even get me a pony.” Emmie caught Stevens’s eye at that remark and returned his smile.
“The earl will be back, Winnie, and Lord Amery will probably visit again, too. Besides, we have too much to do to be missing them for very long.”
“Beg pardon, Miss?” Stevens interrupted when she would have taken Winnie by the hand and returned with her to the kitchens.
“Stevens?”
“His lordship left summat for Miss Winnie in the stables,” Stevens said, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, “but not a pony.”
“Oh, Miss Emmie.” Winnie swung Emmie’s hand. “Can we go see? Please?”
“Let’s do.” Emmie nodded at Stevens, and Winnie was off like a shot.
“So, where is it?” Winnie asked, peering down the barn aisle moments later. “What can it be doing in the stable if it isn’t a pony?”
“Up there.” Stevens pointed to the hayloft. “I’ll fetch it down.” Stevens came down the ladder moments later, moving carefully with something tucked under one arm.
“Said his name’s Scout.” Stevens put a wiggling black ball of puppy fur on the ground and passed a twine rope into Winnie’s hands. “Bought him in York. He said Lord Amery weren’t keen on leaving a pony behind and nobody to teach Miss Winnie how to ride it yet.”
“A puppy!” Winnie squealed. “Oh, a puppy! Is he mine? Can I keep him?”
