would have pleased him more. He’d been told so often that he was the image of his father that her words came as a surprise. Over the past few years, he’d done everything he could to reverse what his father had done. Doing so had been no easy task, especially when everyone seemed to expect that he was the same man as his father. “That is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “I didn’t say it to be nice.”
“Which makes it even nicer.”
“Well, it’s true. Your straightforwardness, your attitude, and something about your eyes are all very like her.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” For a long moment, their gazes held, and warmth stirred deep within him. Those brown eyes tugged at him. The slight bow in her upper lip beckoned. Desire slid through him, much to his dismay. He was engaged and had no business feeling anything for this woman other than sympathy for her unfortunate circumstances.
Yet there was more to Emma Grisby that he’d suspected. She was an intelligent person who had a completely different life experience than he.
Once again, he found himself on the verge of simply asking her if she’d heard anything from her uncle, but he held back. She had no reason to trust him with an honest answer, and he didn’t know her well enough to tell if she was lying.
The only thing he did know was that the days ahead would be interesting. He had yet to reconcile the memories he had of her with the woman before him.
Perhaps he needed to set those aside and allow events to unfold as they may. Somehow, it seemed as if that would be easier said than done.
~*~
Emma paused at the threshold of the bedroom to which the maid had shown her in Viscountess Weston’s home. She could only stare at the lovely blue and cream colored décor. “Are you certain this is the correct room?”
“If you don’t care for it, miss, I’m certain the viscountess will offer you a different one.”
“No, no. It’s lovely.” The interior beckoned, yet she hesitated.
The canopied bed sat high and was draped in a deep blue with a bedspread in a paler shade. Pillows of various shapes and sizes invited her to sit back and relax. A cozy sitting area with two stuffed chairs and a low table sat before the fireplace. A desk complete with paper and pen stood near the window with a matching chair before it.
Sleeping in such a beautiful room would be impossible. She’d be too afraid she’d mess it up.
Worst of all was her ragged bag sitting open on the floor, its meager contents ready to be unpacked. It didn’t belong in this room anymore than she did.
From the moment she’d seen Viscount Weston waiting for her this morning, she’d felt as if she’d been walking in a dream. As if she’d stepped through the door into a foreign world. A handsome man conversing with her as though he cared what she thought. A beautiful carriage to take her to her destination. A lovely benefactor who’d invited her into her home and given her this room in which to stay.
Overwhelmed, Emma drew a shaky breath. She and her bag were completely out of place here. Who was she trying to fool?
“I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake.”
“Not giving up already, Emma, are you?” the viscountess asked from behind her.
Emma spun to face her, worried she’d offended her. “I’m terribly sorry but I’m afraid—”
“No need for panic, my dear. You’ve barely started.” She dismissed the maid and drew nearer, her gaze steady on Emma. “I know you have more backbone than that. Don’t allow the sight of a bedroom to change your mind.”
Emma looked over her shoulder at the room again. How could she explain that this room was the size of her family’s entire flat? That the cost of the chair and desk would be enough to feed her family for months? She didn’t think she could pretend to be part of this world when she felt so out of place in it.
Could she succeed in this charade? Was it the right
Her eyes widened with surprise. “I didn’t say it to be nice.”
“Which makes it even nicer.”
“Well, it’s true. Your straightforwardness, your attitude, and something about your eyes are all very like her.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” For a long moment, their gazes held, and warmth stirred deep within him. Those brown eyes tugged at him. The slight bow in her upper lip beckoned. Desire slid through him, much to his dismay. He was engaged and had no business feeling anything for this woman other than sympathy for her unfortunate circumstances.
Yet there was more to Emma Grisby that he’d suspected. She was an intelligent person who had a completely different life experience than he.
Once again, he found himself on the verge of simply asking her if she’d heard anything from her uncle, but he held back. She had no reason to trust him with an honest answer, and he didn’t know her well enough to tell if she was lying.
The only thing he did know was that the days ahead would be interesting. He had yet to reconcile the memories he had of her with the woman before him.
Perhaps he needed to set those aside and allow events to unfold as they may. Somehow, it seemed as if that would be easier said than done.
~*~
Emma paused at the threshold of the bedroom to which the maid had shown her in Viscountess Weston’s home. She could only stare at the lovely blue and cream colored décor. “Are you certain this is the correct room?”
“If you don’t care for it, miss, I’m certain the viscountess will offer you a different one.”
“No, no. It’s lovely.” The interior beckoned, yet she hesitated.
The canopied bed sat high and was draped in a deep blue with a bedspread in a paler shade. Pillows of various shapes and sizes invited her to sit back and relax. A cozy sitting area with two stuffed chairs and a low table sat before the fireplace. A desk complete with paper and pen stood near the window with a matching chair before it.
Sleeping in such a beautiful room would be impossible. She’d be too afraid she’d mess it up.
Worst of all was her ragged bag sitting open on the floor, its meager contents ready to be unpacked. It didn’t belong in this room anymore than she did.
From the moment she’d seen Viscount Weston waiting for her this morning, she’d felt as if she’d been walking in a dream. As if she’d stepped through the door into a foreign world. A handsome man conversing with her as though he cared what she thought. A beautiful carriage to take her to her destination. A lovely benefactor who’d invited her into her home and given her this room in which to stay.
Overwhelmed, Emma drew a shaky breath. She and her bag were completely out of place here. Who was she trying to fool?
“I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake.”
“Not giving up already, Emma, are you?” the viscountess asked from behind her.
Emma spun to face her, worried she’d offended her. “I’m terribly sorry but I’m afraid—”
“No need for panic, my dear. You’ve barely started.” She dismissed the maid and drew nearer, her gaze steady on Emma. “I know you have more backbone than that. Don’t allow the sight of a bedroom to change your mind.”
Emma looked over her shoulder at the room again. How could she explain that this room was the size of her family’s entire flat? That the cost of the chair and desk would be enough to feed her family for months? She didn’t think she could pretend to be part of this world when she felt so out of place in it.
Could she succeed in this charade? Was it the right
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