“What are you doing?” This was not proper at all, yet the comfort was soothing and relaxed her further.

  “Sleep, Violet.” He murmured, then kissed the top of her head. “I’ll not let anything else happen to you.”

  When next she woke, it was to the cries of a baby. She blinked up at the ceiling and took in the room. This was where she’d slept when she came to the dower house. But why was there a…Miranda had her baby!

  Violet scrambled from the bed so quickly that she had to stop and brace herself as a wave of dizziness came over her.

  How had she gotten here? How long had she been asleep? The last thing she remembered was shooting Eardly, then Emory pulling her close as she rested her head against him.

  Had she slept all the way back to Laswell?

  Though in truth, they’d only been a couple of hours away, but still, shouldn’t she have awakened once they reached their destination?

  How had she gotten to this chamber? Had she walked in her sleep? Had she done so before?

  If so, that was a rather alarming concern.

  Violet sank down on the bed, surprised at how shaken and weak she was. After placing a hand against her forehead and cheek, she was assured that she was not ill, so why was she lightheaded?

  Why had she gone to bed in her clothing?

  Clearly she must have been too tired to undress, which could explain why she was weak. She hadn’t eaten since supper the night before. In response to her thoughts, her stomach tightened with pain.

  Yes, that was the reason, and as soon as she had sustenance, most certainly she would be more the thing.

  Rising, she strode across the floor, not bothering to put on her boots, as the effort was beyond her, and opened the door to the corridor. The babe was no longer crying, but Violet decided that she’d first eat, then she’d meet her new nephew. Though, she supposed it could be a niece, but Father and Wesley insisted that it would be a son, as if they had control over such matters.

  Violet shook the wayward thoughts from her mind.

  It mattered not if the baby was male or female, so long as it was healthy and Miranda survived.

  Goodness, such a horrible thought, but childbirth was dangerous.

  “Violet?”

  She turned to find Wesley coming toward her. “Are you well. You are extremely pale. Perhaps you should return to bed.”

  “Is Miranda well?”

  “Yes.” He grinned. “And I have a son.”

  The relief was so great that Violet swayed and had to grasp the wall for balance.

  “You are going back to bed,” he insisted.

  “I must eat,” Violet argued.

  “I’ll have a tray delivered to you,” he insisted. “I’ll also call for a maid to help you change out of your clothing.”

  He turned her easily enough and marched her back to her chamber.

  “This is so very odd,” she muttered.

  “What is odd?” he asked with humor.

  “I’m a bit befuddled.” Violet frowned. “I’m never befuddled, and I don’t believe I like it.”

  “You are exhausted,” Wesley reminded her. “You’ve only been home an hour, so you haven’t slept long, even though you did drift off in the curricle.”

  “How long did I sleep in total?” she asked. She usually could do the calculation herself, but her mind didn’t seem to want to work, or focus, and she did not like it one bit.

  “Two hours at the most, though I’m uncertain, but not nearly long enough for what you’ve endured.”

  “I agree. I’d been awake nearly a day and night when I first encountered Lord Eardly.”

  “Yes, Violet, and I’m certain being traumatized had nothing to do with your exhaustion.”

  She blinked up at him. Certainly, she’d recall trauma, yet she didn’t. Had something happened that she didn’t recall?

  No, she remembered everything from when she first encountered Eardly until Lord Ferrard arrived. “I suffered no trauma,” she assured her brother, and she didn’t wish for him to believe the experience was worse than it had been.

  “Perhaps not physically, but emotionally it would be trying for anyone.”

  Yes, she supposed he was correct, but she’d recovered well enough, and once she slept a bit more and had something to eat, she’d be back to her normal self. After all, several studies had shown that those who were lacking sleep, or without nourishment, often failed in their reason, which was certainly why she was a bit befuddled and not quite herself.

  “I assume that Lord Ferrard delivered Eardly to the magistrate and is now on his way to Sussex?”

  The very idea that he was now gone from Laswell caused her physical pain in the location of her heart.

  “No, Violet.”

  “Then what have you done with Eardly. Certainly, he hasn’t escaped.”

  “Eardly has been taken care of. As for Ferrard, he is to return this afternoon. He’s anxious and will want news of your recovery.”

  Anxious? She wasn’t ill or hurt. “He has no reason to be anxious.”

  Wesley led her to the bed and Violet sank into the softness, thankful to no longer be walking or standing.

  “While you might not believe your abduction was traumatic, it was for the rest of us, as we were beside ourselves with worry.” Violet yawned as she settled back onto her pillows.

  “Ferrard will not be satisfied until he sees for himself that you are well.”

  Violet frowned. It really was not necessary that Ferrard return. However, she wasn’t eager for him to return to Sussex either. She had to thank him.

  “Sleep well, Violet. I’ll have a maid wake you when a meal is prepared,” Wesley said before he closed the door to her chamber.

  Violet rolled to her side and tucked her hands beneath her chin as she recalled how Emory had held her as she rested against him. It would be wonderful to fall asleep in such a position now, except not sitting up. It was quite comforting to have his arm about her. If only she could sleep like that always.

  If only he liked her enough to want her to sleep with him always.

  If only he loved her, as she loved him.

  Chapter 29

  Emory had first driven to the dower house to deliver Violet to her brother. She’d not awakened in the two hours that it took to return. Because he feared that the horses would grow tired, he’d not pushed them and let them walk at a pace they preferred. Not even when he pulled up before the cottage did she waken, and he’d handed her slumbering body down to her brother.

  “Is she unharmed?” Epworth asked with concern.

  “Yes. Simply exhausted.” Emory looked around. “My brother is no longer here?”

  At the question, Epworth grinned. “You may congratulate me. My heir has arrived.”

  Emory wondered that each time the heir’s birthday was celebrated if Violet would remember it as the day that she’d thwarted an abductor. Emory climbed down from the curricle. “Congratulations. I hope your wife is doing well.”

  “Perfectly so,” Epworth informed him. “But I should take my sister in and see that she’s settled.”

  “I’ve a delivery to make as well.” He nodded to the carriage that had continued to follow him. “Is there a magistrate near?”

  The color rose in Epworth’s cheeks. “Is that Eardly.”

  “Yes.”

  Before he barely had time to react, Epworth passed Violet back to Emory and stormed over to the carriage and yanked open the door.

  “What did you do?” Epworth asked.

  Emory followed and glanced over Epworth’s shoulder to Eardly who was half lying on the bench, pale and unconscious, his arm covered in blood.

  “Lady Violet shot him.”

  She mumbled and turned her face to his chest.

  “Is he dead?” Epworth asked.

  “Not yet, I don’t think.” Not that Emory would be disturbed by the man’s death, and he suspected Epworth wouldn’t be upset either. Though, Violet may appear to have recovered from shooting him, such might not be the case if she caused Eardly’s death.

  “Should I take your sister inside?” Emory asked, though reluctant to part with her.

  “You can’t deliver her to a chamber. I will.” Epworth held out his arm so that Violet could be passed back, and despite being handed about as one would an infant, Violet didn’t wake. “Does she always sleep so soundly?”

  “No. In fact, she’s a poor sleeper, or she had been when she was younger.”

  “Then it’s likely that she’s simply exhausted because she fell asleep against my shoulder several miles back.” He wasn’t about to tell Epworth just how long she’d slumbered, or that he’d traveled the entire way with his arm about her waist, tucked up tight against his body and enjoyed every moment of holding her.

  “Thank you for seeing to her safety. I’d have gone myself, but I didn’t wish to leave my wife. It was a damned difficult decision.”

  “I understand.” In similar circumstances and if Violet were his wife, Emory wasn’t so certain he’d leave her side to save a sister, and he hoped he never needed to make such a difficult decision.

  “If it is no inconvenience, I’d like to call on you later this afternoon to assure myself that Lady Violet has fully recovered from her ordeal.”

  Epworth stared at him, as if trying to decide if he should grant such a request. The gentleman had once asked him to leave and warned him away from Violet. However, that had been before Emory had saved her.

  “Very well. Come back at four. She should have rested by then and be ready to receive you.”

  Eardly was not dead, such the pity, therefore, Emory gave the driver instructions to his brother’s home and returned to the curricle. Once in Laswell, Liam patched up his arm while they waited for the arrival of the magistrate. After he explained the crimes that Eardly had committed, the magistrate took him away to recover from his injuries in the Laswell Gaol while word was sent to the gentleman’s father.

  Emory then bathed and changed his clothing and returned to Forester Hall, arriving promptly at four as instructed. He now was left cooling his heels as he waited for Violet to appear.

  “Lord Ferrard, I am so glad you returned so that I might thank you for your rescue.”

  She stood at the entry, a vision in a red dress with golden embroidery, golden hair pinned behind her head, though curls cascaded over her shoulders. Her green eyes were bright and there was a healthy glow to her cheeks, and he finally relaxed in noting that she was quite well and recovered from her ordeal.

  “You must think it odd that I’d be dressed in a formal manner, and in such a bold color.”

  As an unmarried lady, red was not a color she should wear, but he hadn’t even considered the rule she’d just broken as he drank in the sight of her.

  “I had this fashioned for Twelfth Night. The Harleys had planned a celebration, and Silvia and I were going to break with convention and dress in a daring manner. Much of the reason was to shock her mother. However, as the celebration could not take place, I did not want to let this dress go to waste, especially since today my nephew was born, and you thwarted a kidnapping. Thus, we have much to celebrate.”

  “You are beautiful,” he uttered without thinking.

  “I was not seeking a compliment, Lord Ferrard. I thought to explain my formal dress for an afternoon tea.”

  He took a step in her direction. “Nor do I offer empty compliments, Violet. You are indeed a vision.” He meant every word.

  Her cheeks darkened and she glanced away. “Thank you, Lord Ferrard.”

  Was Violet blushing, demurring to him? She’d never done so before. How very odd. Perhaps she hadn’t recovered.

  “Are you well?”

  “Gloriously.” She smiled brightly. Except, her cheer no longer showed in her eyes. Was she pretending to be well? She needn’t pretend with him.

  Violet crossed to the tea service and paused.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “In a moment.” He followed to be near and study Violet more closely, as something was bothering her. Of course it could still be that she was shaken from her ordeal, but she’d been so calm earlier, even when she’d shot Eardly, then slept, so it was odd that she was shaken now. Unless she was like many who didn’t fully appreciate the frightful circumstances until after the fact and when they were away from the situation.

  “Thank you, again, Lord Ferrard, for coming to my rescue when my brother was unable to do so.”

  “Had your brother been available, I still would have gone after Eardly to get you back.”

  Violet glanced up at him, green eyes troubled.

  “Why?”

  “Do you not know how much I care for you?”

  Her smile was gentle. “We are friends and for that, I am grateful.”

  “We are more than simply friends, Violet.” He needed her to understand the depth of his emotions. Though she may reject him a second time, Emory would not leave without her knowing the truth of his heart.

  “Our courtship has ended.”

  “It is supposed to end today, however we never agreed on a time.”

  Confusion filled her emerald eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  Instead of explaining, Emory bent and placed his lips against hers.

  It was Violet who broke first and took a step back. “Why did you do that?”

  “I enjoy kissing you. Do you not enjoy kissing me?” He nearly held his breath as he waited for her response.

  “Of course I do, but I’d rather we never kissed again.”

  At least she enjoyed kissing. “Why should we stop doing something we both enjoy?”

  “It isn’t right.” Violet crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “I disagree, as it feels nothing but right when you are in my arms.”

  Emory drew her near once again and put his lips against hers, Violet softened and soon her arms relaxed, and her hands gripped his shoulders. As he deepened the kiss, she melded with him. He hadn’t imagined the heat and passion they shared in the gazebo.

  “No,” she uttered as she pulled away and pressed the palms of her hands against his chest.

  Emory let go and stepped away.

  “You cannot do that again. Do you understand?”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not right.” She turned and stomped away, putting the settee between them, as if she were afraid to allow him to be close.

  “I understand that you’ve had great experience in kissing, and I now understand why widows seek your attention. However, they are knowledgeable in what they are experiencing, whereas I am not. I’d not have you confuse me.”

  He hated his past being thrown back at him. Yes, he’d been a rake. Yes, he’d kissed many women, and had done far more than kissing. But that was behind him. He wanted nobody but Violet. Even if she rejected him, Emory couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else, as they’d pale in comparison to her.

  “How do my kisses confuse you?”

  “They make me want more, if you must know, things that are not proper. I’ll not be another conquest for you, Lord Ferrard.” She notched her chin with determination and looked him in the eyes.

  “I don’t wish for you to be another conquest, Violet. Never that.”

  “Then why kiss me when our association is at an end, other than the friendship we share?”

  “I want more than friendship.”

  She stilled, her eyes growing wide. “How much more?”

  “Violet Claxton, if you will have me, and His Grace grants my request, I’d like you to be my wife.”

  She simply stood there, staring at him, mouth slightly agape.

  Perhaps it was simply shock, as he was shocked, yet she’d just survived what would have been a traumatizing experience for most young women, and perhaps his proposal was too much.

  Further, he’d forgotten that she had no wish to marry before being forced to do so. “I promise to build you a conservatory at Hawthorn Park, and I’ll even let you fill it with spiders, though I can’t promise to visit you there if you do.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like spiders.” Surely, she recalled his aversion to them.

  “Why do you wish to marry me?”

  Emory wasn’t good at confessing his emotions, but Violet needed to hear the words from him, or she might never agree. “You are the most unique, beautiful, and intelligent woman of my acquaintance. Moving forward, it will be difficult as my father’s condition worsens, and I’d have you by my side, as I may need to rely on the strength you possess, and your pragmatism would be comforting and well received.” These were not all the words in his heart, but he chose the ones that he believed she would accept the most. “Further, I desire you beyond reason, and I’ve fallen in love with you.” He said the words and nearly held his breath, fearful of her rejection.

  The corners of her mouth quirked. “As many spiders as I wish?”

  Bloody hell! Nothing about his confession of love, but she was more interested in spiders. He didn’t expect Violet to return his affection, but he hoped that perhaps he’d earn some part of her heart.

  “If that is what it will take to win your hand.” He attempted to suppress a shudder and failed.

  Violet left the safety of the back of the settee and walked around to stand before him. It was then that he noticed that her hands shook. They’d been steady on a gun aimed at Eardly, but it was him she feared? Emory took her hands in his. “I promise to try and make you happy Violet, and I hope that one day you can return my affection and love me as well.”

  She studied him, her green eyes intense as she looked into his. “But I do,” she whispered, and the band tightened about his heart broke.

  “I feared you’d only see me as a friend. That is why I never wished to kiss you again because you made me long for what would never be mine. We were friends, I was certain that when you returned to Sussex that I’d be left devastated. My heart shattered. Though not literally, or many people would have already died of such an occurrence.”

  Emory chuckled and pulled her close. “You’ll marry me.”

  “Are you lying about the conservatory?”

  Emory placed a finger beneath her chin and drew close until their noses nearly touched. “Have we not always had honesty between us?”