Page 41 of The Earl's Christmas Deal
Emilia took Adam’s arm, and they made their way into the village.
Despite the heavy snowfall, carriages and wagons still had to travel into the little village of Tinsdale, and labourers must have spent many hours clearing the paths.
The little gaggle of party members all walked out onto the lane, relieved to see that deep grooves existed through the snow, creating a makeshift path. Much of the main road into the village had been cleared. Unlike outside the chapel, where the snow had been growing so thick it was almost impassable, it was much easier to navigate here.
A river ran alongside the road, its babbling path over the rocks, not having allowed the water to freeze. It flowed happily down the little hill and under a bridge to their left, snow covering the banks. Adam listened to the sound, likening it to the tinkle of notes on a piano.
“How are you this morning?” he asked Emilia. They had separated now that the path was firmer, and Adam was conscious that he could not hold her arm all the way to the village without eyebrows being raised.
Nevertheless, he still wanted to and felt her absence acutely. Lionel and Miss Fairfax walked ahead of them, chattering merrily, and Adam was eager to use the time to get to know Emilia on their short walk to the village.
She did not say anything for so long he wondered whether she had heard him.
“Is all well?” he asked softly. “You are not having second thoughts?”
She glanced at him then. “No, my Lord, nothing like that. I suppose I was wondering how honest to be with you.”
Adam’s heart warmed at the uncertainty in her voice. “I would never wish you to feel you could not be honest with me, Lady Emilia. Even if it is a difficult thing to confess, I would know your thoughts.”
“I suppose I am not sure how I feel,” she said a little ruefully. “I am lighter in myself. I find that Christmas has more joy to it than it has done for many years. It is odd, but I feel I have known you for longer than I have. Does that seem strange?”
Adam clenched his fists inside his gloves, the sting of the cold grounding him somehow.
“No. I do not think it is odd. It is how I feel also.”
“Truly?” she asked, a note of awe in her voice.
“Most assuredly. I wish to know you better.”
“You may ask me anything.”
“Anything?” he asked with a smile. “What a notion.”
She laughed. “Within reason. There may be some things I will not disclose.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, I do not know. Perhaps that when I think nobody is paying attention, I have been known to dip a mince pie into my tea.”
Adam barked a laugh so loud that Lionel and Miss Fairfax turned around, and he quickly schooled his features.
“I am appalled,” he said playfully. “I suppose I should confess then that I have hated, and will always hate, plum pudding and mince pies for long as I live.”
Emilia stopped in her tracks, forcing the Pinkertons to navigate around them, and Adam was very close to a belly laugh at her expression.
Realising that she was drawing attention, Emilia continued with a deep frown that shouldn’t have been so endearing.
“You do notlikeplum pudding. Even if it is covered with brandy?”
“I like brandy. Does that count?”
“It does not. Tell me you enjoy fruitcake.”
“Cannot stand the stuff.”
Emilia gasped in shock, and Adam chuckled, listening to the crunch of the snow beneath their feet and the chatter of the others as they neared the village.
“I simply do not know if I could marry a man who dislikes fruit cake,” she said, his voice very quiet.
