Page 13 of Married Off by the Duke
He rolled up his sleeves and placed the oars into the oarlocks. Emma perched on the bench opposite him. Even with his legs bent, his knees pressed into the fabric of her dress. She shifted away, her cheeks pinkening.
Max untied the rope from the cleat and deftly maneuvered them into the river’s middle, where the current was stronger.
“May I try?”
Max had taken them into the center of the river where the water ran smoothest. He showed her how to grip the oars, then covered her gloved hands with his ungloved ones and demonstrated the circular motion used to paddle forward.
“Like this.”
Emma glanced at him, then away, then back again. Her glossy brown hair was pinned up, but tendrils escaped and floated around her face. How had he ever thought her mousy? Her pale blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Her lips were the color of spring roses, and the bulky life jacket couldn’t conceal the elegant line of her neck.
“May I ask you something?”
Emma inclined her head. “As long as it isn’t a proposal. I have disappointed quite enough men for one day. It’s a tiring business.”
“I won’t. Not yet, although you must admit this makes for as romantic a setting as one could hope for. Sunset on the water. A gentle breeze. Bucolic scenery as far as the eye can see.”
Emma yawned discreetly, dashing Max’s hopes of using their close proximity as an excuse for a kiss.
“Am I boring you?”
“No!” Her brows arched in twin arcs of horror. “I’ve had a long and exciting day, that’s all. I’m enjoying this experience very much.”
“Where did you go this morning?”
Emma held up one finger. “We agreed. Mornings are my time to do as I wish without interference. You have my afternoons for thirteen more days.” Seizing the oars, she rowed with vigor. “Let’s see how fast we can make this boat go!”
“I had no idea you had such a sense of adventure,” Max said once they’d locked up the boathouse and were sitting on the grassy bank to watch the fading sunset. The remains of their picnic were in the hamper a few feet away. He’d never experienced a quiet interlude with a woman that felt so intimate.
“Well, I haven’t had much opportunity to explore my interests, have I?” Emma asked, shifting her balance onto one hip, propped up on one arm. With her free hand, she stifled a yawn. “Adventuring was frowned upon at Mrs. Quarrie’s. I had to be on my best behavior, lest I lose my place.”
“You could have come to Gracepoint. No one forced you to return to the school.”
Except…hadn’t he?
Max sat straighter, kicking his long legs out and leaning back on his hands. Their shoulders brushed. Emma didn’t move away.
“Looking back, I can understand how that might not have been an appealing option for you,” he said after a few moments.
“I don’t like feeling unwanted. Or useless.”
“Did I make you feel that way?” Max’s heart sank. Emma shrugged.
“I’d have stayed out of your way if you’d given me something productive to do.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Anything.”
“You’re my ward, not my servant. When you’re my wife, you won’t need to lift a finger.”
He dared to drop a kiss on the top of her head. Emma’s sleek dark hair was warm from the fading sun, her hat unpinned and set aside.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Confounding woman.
“Tell me. What would you do with your inheritance if you had the entire sum right now? Spend it all on hats and horse racing?”
