Page 4 of The Viscount's Promise
“Emily,” Caleb said, “you remember Sir Tristan and Lord Morley, don’t you?”
She had enough sense to look to Sir Tristan first. Which may not have been the best thing to do, after all. As cheerful as the man was, it showed all the more when he caught sight of her scar. His smile faltered noticeably before he forced it back into place and slid his eyes back to hers. The jolly look was gone, however. “It is a pleasure, Lady Emily,” he said quietly.
Swallowing hard, Emily fought the overwhelming urge to press her hand to her cheek again. “Sir Tristan,” she managed. Then, almost reluctantly, she turned to Lord Morley.
Oh, wasn’t that a blunder of the worst sort, for there went her stomach, right up into her chest. And wouldn’t her heart go galloping madly away again? But worst of all was her tongue. It tied itself into a right difficult knot, holding hostage all the things she wanted to say, like,Thank you for being so kind to me all those years ago,and,I am glad you have come for my brother’s wedding. And,You are looking particularly handsome today; may we please marry and have scads of babies?
Then again, perhaps it was a good thing she was unable to speak.
“Lady Emily.” His voice, branded in her brain, was even deeper than it had been, moving almost physically through her in the most unnerving way. And she was simply sitting there, staring at him like a simpleton, unable to even nod her head in greeting.My word, it should be a crime for a man to have such long lashes. And that thick, luxurious hair.It fell about in deliciously tousled inky waves. Her fingers itched in her gloves to touch it.
He looked at her oddly, not a hint of a smile on his face. In his favor, his gaze did not linger on her scar. It was obvious, however, that the man was not at all happy to be here. And now she was staring at him in the most dumbfounded way. He must think she had damaged her brain along with her face in that accident. Taking firm mental hold of her errant tongue, she concentrated with all her might. To her relief, words finally emerged from her paralyzed throat.
“Lord Morley, it is a pleasure.”
There, six whole words. One whole sentence. So what if they sounded like they came from a terrified cat? She had done it.
A commotion from across the room caught their attention. Caleb, who had seemed unusually alert and desperate to avert disaster with the entire Duncan clan present, quickly excused himself. Sir Tristan followed in his wake.
To Emily’s surprise, Lord Morley did not follow. His dark, almost black eyes stayed fixed to her, not even acknowledging his friends’ leave-taking.
Her tongue seemed to pirouette, managing an impressive double knot. She flushed and tilted her head ever so slightly, trying to camouflage her scar as best she could. He said nothing, continuing to stare in that unnerving way.
Casting about for something, anything coherent to say, Emily hit upon his recent travels. “Your trip, I pray, was comfortable?”
He grunted and shrugged. “I suppose. If one counts a day and a half of riding in a coach ascomfortable.”
Emily blinked. His tone went right beyond brusque and straight on to surly. “Ah. I am sorry for that.”
“Yes, well. Duty and all that.”
Had he always been so...irritable? Emily frowned. Her memory could not be that faulty. She cast a covert glance toward the door, wishing she could simply slink away to escape this bizarre exchange. Clearing her throat, she plowed on. “It is good of you to come in support of my brother when you dislike travel so much, then.”
He reached down and adjusted his cuff. “Oh, it is not travel I dislike so much as weddings.”
What in the world was going on here, and who was this man who had taken the place of Lord Morley? “And my brother is aware of your dislike?”
Here he gave a short bark of laughter. It was better than the bored disdain he had shown thus far, but as the sound of it could only be described as rude, she was not inclined to look well on it. “Of course he is aware,” he said. “I have been very vocal in that regard.”
Really, the man was reprehensible. There was no possible way that this was the same person who had come to their home when she was young and captured her affections with his kindness.
But when she looked up into his face, at features she had dreamt of so often over the years, she was forced to acknowledge with a sinking heart it was the very same gentleman. Something in her shriveled in that moment. Never mind her thoughts on the Fates being kind to Lord Morley. Here was proof that, while they had been more than generous with his face and form, they had been severely remiss when it came to his temperament.
She raised her chin, refusing to back down from his open hostility. “It is a wonder that you came at all, with your dislike so obvious.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
“I think you must have. All of us have free choice.”
His lip curled. “You obviously do not know me very well, then.”
“No, I do not,” she declared, rising. Never mind how wrong it was to leave a guest in the lurch, Emily did not think she could take another minute more in his presence. Not without either bursting into tears or snapping his head off. With a shallow curtsy, holding her head up with as much dignity as she could muster, she marched from the room.
• • •
Malcolm watched as Lady Emily left him, her indignation palpable in the unbending line of her spine. Guilt crept over him like a trickle of ice water down his back. He shrugged it off. Perhaps he should not have been so hard on her. She was an unwitting player in this debacle, after all. Yet, if not for her shyness, he would not be forced to play nursemaid, to be held prisoner by the damnable promise Willbridge had goaded from him. Besides, did she truly need his help? That bit of spirit as she’d walked away from him, her affront at his attitude abundantly clear, had shown that the girl could take care of herself.
In the next instant, his guilt returned tenfold. When he had first entered the room, her expression had said something quite different. She had looked like a rabbit caught in a snare. In that moment he had felt a peculiar connection to her, a recognition of sorts. Her large gray eyes had been filled with a caution and underlying hurt he could understand all too well.
