A Companion for the Count: A Regency Romance Britton, Sally (smart ebook reader TXT) 📖

took her by surprise, the warmth of his lips, how his heat transferred into her and ran through her entire body before she went cold again, and how much she wished to turn and press her lips to his.

She nodded tightly. “You are most welcome. Good day.” She made to leave, moving faster than before, and he called after her, sounding bewildered.

“Emma? But where are you going? Wait—I do not think you understand.”

Another voice shouted for her from the grotto at nearly the same moment Luca caught up to her.

“Emma? Are you in there?” Josephine stepped out into the sunlight, bundled up against the cold, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling. “Oh, good. I found you.”

Why did everyone know where to look for her? Emma would have a word with her cousin, and it would not be a cheerful one.

The footsteps behind her faded. Luca had stopped following her, and Emma did not look back at him. He would not continue his conversation on courtship or English brides while Josephine was present. She immediately looped her arm through Josie’s and dragged her friend back through the grotto.

“Emma, whatever is the matter?” Josie asked, her voice echoing on the stone before they were out the other side.

“Nothing,” Emma said, marching quickly away from Luca and all his talk of marrying someone. Someone who wasn’t her. Then kissing her as a brother might kiss a sister. Her eyes burned, and the path blurred.

“Something is wrong,” Josie insisted, hurrying to keep up. “Have you a cold?”

“No,” Emma snapped. “I do not have a cold.” Then she tugged Josie behind a hedgerow and stopped. “I am sorry, I only wished to get away from Lord Atella so we might have a private conversation.”

“Oh.” Josie’s blue eyes conveyed her confusion. “Has he displeased you?”

A sad laugh escaped Emma. “Why does everyone think that?”

“You have avoided him of late. I would think avoiding me, too, except I know I am guilty of hiding in my tower far too often.” Josie folded her mittened hands before her and studied Emma, her gaze far too perceptive. “He has upset you. But you are not angry. You’re hurt.”

Why did they have to be as close as sisters? Could not Josie pretend for even a moment she didn’t read every emotion on Emma’s face as others read books? “I am perfectly well, thank you, and I do not wish to speak of Lord Atella. I thought that attitude would suit you.”

Josephine’s eyebrows drew together sharply. “Why?”

“Because you dislike him.”

“I like him well enough,” Josephine said, voice quiet.

“Not well enough to let him court you.” Emma’s thoughts and feelings spiraled together inside of her, making her unwise in her words. “And if you had never minded such a thing, I would not be in this predicament. He is talking of courting another English woman. Even after I proved of no use to him where you are concerned, he had the audacity to ask for my assistance.”

Josephine’s soft “oh” barely entered Emma’s consciousness.

“First you wanted me to help you by distracting him, then I offered him my guidance to woo you, and then everything was better when I said I had rather not bother with it at all. He is too good a man to deceive or trick, Josie. He is honorable and kind, and there is so much gentleness to him. I think he does not know how much life he has missed, how much joy the war stole from him. He did not have a childhood like ours, where he knew he was safe and kept close to those who cared for him.”

Emma’s tears fell, and she knocked them away with the back of one hand.

“That sounds terrible,” Josephine said quietly. “I did not know. His circumstances seems to have affected you deeply.” The wind whistled through the hedges, making them both shiver, but Josephine was good enough to not suggest they take the conversation indoors. “Now he wishes to court another woman, and that upsets you?”

“No,” Emma said, drawing the word out slowly. “Or perhaps…yes. He deserves someone wonderful, Josie. Someone who sees him for all that he is trying to accomplish, and for all the wonderful things he could do. If only you had shown some interest—” Emma broke off, looking up at her friend. “He could make you happy, Josie, I am certain of it. He is the sort of man who would put the person he loves before anything else. He would spend hours in conversation with you about your writing, if you wished it.”

“Would he?” Josephine smiled, though the expression struck Emma as amused rather than intrigued. “But I am not looking for a husband.”

“Someday you will want one,” Emma argued, hearing how ridiculous she sounded and not caring. “Why not Conte Atella? You would be a countess—an Italian contessa, in a new kingdom.”

“Emma, listen to yourself.” Josie placed a hand on each of Emma’s shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “You said he would put the person he loves before anything else. I think you must marry him.”

“Me?” Emma squeaked the word out. “No, not me. He needs a woman of high rank, someone well-connected—”

“Like the ward of a duke?” Josephine asked.

Emma shook her head in denial. “That isn’t the same. Besides which, he doesn’t know that—”

“Tell him, then!”

“But my circumstances shouldn’t matter. If he doesn’t want me when I am only a lady’s companion, then I shouldn’t tell him.”

“That is silly. You know as well as I do that as beautiful as stories of love between classes may seem, they are unlikely and improbable. Even if he fell madly in love with a milkmaid, a man of his station couldn’t marry her without being stripped of everything he holds dear. Especially the respect of his peers.” Josephine gave Emma a little shake. “But that doesn’t matter because you are not a poor relation forced to take work. You are a well-connected daughter of a gentleman, with more than a few pennies