Page 44 of The Viscount's Promise
The distant echo of pounding reached them then, growing quickly closer. Malcolm raised his head to look over her, steadying her with one hand on her back as he raised the other in greeting. Emily flushed furiously, pressing her face into his shoulder.
“Is my sister well?” she heard Drew shout.
“Yes, though she is badly shaken.” Malcolm’s voice rumbled in her ear as her brother pulled up alongside them. “Her mare was spooked and reared. Lady Emily would have fallen to the ground had I not caught her.”
Drew dismounted and came to her. Emily looked at him with reluctance. It must be glaringly obvious, what had occurred between Malcolm and herself. She could not bear her brother’s laughter just then. He would think it a fine lark that the popular, handsome, and eligible Lord Morley was kissing his awkward sister.
But his face was filled with nothing but deep concern.
“I suppose Violet has run off for home as she always does. But you have never tumbled from her back before. Are you all right, Em?”
She nodded. He held his hands up to help her to the ground. For a single second she thought she felt Malcolm’s hands flex possessively on her. In the next moment, however, he was helping her into her brother’s arms. She slid to the ground, feeling the loss of Malcolm’s warmth as a deep ache, just managing to keep her eyes from devouring him as he dismounted beside her.
The rest of the party approached, and chaos reigned for a full ten minutes. Each person required the details of herharrowing ordealfrom Malcolm’s lips, questioned her endlessly over how she fared, asked about the fate of the horse.
It was not that she did not appreciate their concern. In that moment, however, with the taste of Malcolm’s kiss lingering on her lips and the overwhelming realization that she was head over heels in love with him ringing through her head, she wanted nothing more than to have a quiet moment to reflect and soak it all in. The small, heated looks Malcolm sent her way did not help either, sending her body into desperate need and muddling her brain in the worst way. Blessedly, the rest of the party seemed to think her distracted state of mind was due to her near fall and did not question it.
They did not seem to think it possible that she could have been involved in something as scandalous and wanton as kissing her rescuer.
She didn’t know whether she should feel grateful or insulted.
A new plan for the day was discussed by all and sundry. With her horse gone, the options were discussed loud and long. It was finally determined, with Daphne’s clear voice rising above the general buzz of conversation, that they would all ride back for Willowhaven, that Emily would ride up before Drew, and that they would all find other entertainments to get them through the day.
Hearing herself talked of in such a way, as if she were a mere extension of the group that must be dealt with, sent a tingle of outrage down Emily’s spine. Turning slowly to face the others, she said, her voice warbling slightly, “I am perfectly capable of walking back to Willowhaven myself. You all go on and finish your ride. I shall be fine.”
They all stared at her as if she had opened her mouth and squawked like a chicken. Without waiting for their acquiescence, she turned and marched with purposeful strides back the way they had come.
“But, Emily, you cannot go alone,” Daphne called after her, her voice meeker than Emily could remember ever hearing it.
“And why not?” Emily called over her shoulder. “I have ridden and walked over these hills for years and have never lost my way.”
Again a stunned kind of silence fell. Emily marched on, picking her way carefully down the gentle rise. Soon the jingle of tackle and the fading sound of horses cantering off reached her ears. She breathed a sigh of relief. They had finally done as she’d wanted and left her in peace.
In a flash, the realization of what she had done hit her. She had stood up for herself at last, had let them all know she was a person in her own right. She smiled, a full-blown smile that pulled at her scar. She had never felt so wonderful. And because she couldn’t help herself, she laughed.
“If you have a joke to tell, please share it.”
Malcolm’s voice so startled her, she jumped and let out an awful squeak. She stopped and spun to face him as he made his way down to where she stood, leading his stallion. “What are you doing here?”
“Seeing you back to the house, if you don’t mind my company.”
She scowled, some of her pleasure in her burst of courage dimming somewhat. “I can see myself back just fine.”
“I know you can,” he replied with apparent unconcern. “But I knew your sister would hound you if you did not have an escort, or would team up with your brother, thereby making it much worse on you. I quite liked that little burst of rebellion you showed and didn’t wish for them to snuff it out.”
Which was horribly presumptuous and wonderfully kind at the same time. So much so that she could not bring herself to be more than mildly annoyed. “It does take away a bit of my victory,” she grumbled halfheartedly. “But I suppose you may join me. Though that does not mean,” she added hastily, “that I am not fully able to do it alone.”
“I know you are,” he said with impressive soberness, before ruining the effect by grinning widely. When she glowered at him, he held up a free hand in defense. “No, truly. I have always known you are far more capable than you first appeared, or even what you seemed to believe yourself to be.”
“Oh.” Overcome and strangely touched, she ducked her head and began walking again. Malcolm quickly fell into step at her side, his horse following placidly behind him, and they walked on for a ways in silence.
Until, once again, he broke that silence.
“I was lying, you know,” he murmured.
She shot him a confused sideways glance. “Lying? What about?”
“About joining you because of your sister’s insistence that you do not return to Willowhaven alone. I came of my own accord because I wished to walk with you.”
