Page 12 of The Mister I Married

But she hadn’t.

Emmy looked down at her lap, at her clasped hands, regretting that she could not use them to offer comfort.

“Poor man,” she whispered. “I am so sorry for him, and for you and Tess. That could not have been an easy time for any of you.”

The sympathy shining in Emmy’s dark eyes pierced Alex straight through, and he pulled his gaze away, shifting in his seat as if it might ease the tightness in his chest.

Her kindness continually surprised him. Beneath all her self-assurance and forthright speech lay a caring and compassionate heart, and this made her terribly easy to talk to. Dangerously easy.

He was not an exceedingly approachable person, never had been, and very few people could claim to know him well, but already he could see how effortlessly this woman might slip through if he let her. If he let his guard down.

Strangely enough, the notion was not unpleasant.

“Thank you,” he finally said with sincerity. “I don’t know why I told you all of that, but then, I suspect people often share their secrets with you.” He slid her a bemused glance. “Even if they don’t want to.”

Her only reply was a small smile, not quite smug but certainly satisfied, and Alex found himself smiling, too, simply because he’d pleased her.

Besotted fool.

He pulled his gaze from her tempting dimpled smile and glanced about the room at his sister and her gentlemen friends, his aunt, the fire in the hearth, but his thoughts were firmly on the woman beside him.

She was an uncommon and fascinating blend of traits—privileged yet unpretentious, plain-spoken but not unkind. Confident, mischievous, yet wholly without conceit.

She wasn’t beautiful, but she was attractive, and she was popular, a marquess’s sister who seemed to have London in the palm of her hand yet no man had won her affections. It did not make sense to him.

“Why are you not married?” he asked, blurting the words out before he could stop himself.

Emmy tensed, her back going rigid, but Alex pressed on, too curious to retreat now. “I find it a bit odd, that’s all. Catching a husband should be easy for someone like you.”

She met his gaze, her eyes cool and flinty, like granite. “I suppose I am something of an oddity. Here I am, four-and-twenty and still unwed, still neglecting my purpose on this earth. After all, is a woman even a woman if she has not reproduced?”

Her voice was low and as tight as a bowstring, her lips a disgruntled line, and Alex, never quick with a clever retort even at the best of times, was struck speechless.

She huffed out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she said, her frown clearing. “Not for my feelings—it infuriates me that so many seem to think that a woman’s only purpose in life is to bear children—but I did not mean to sound cross with you.”

Alex shook his head. “You struck me as more impassioned than cross.”

She shot him a smile that was both sheepish and grateful, and he realized she was embarrassed. It was not an emotion he’d seen her exhibit before, and he could honestly say until now he wasn’t sure she could be embarrassed.

“I suppose I have grown a bit weary of questions about my marital status,” she admitted. “My mother is obsessed with marrying me off, and I sometimes feel as though that is the only way I will make her proud of me. And the only thing that will make my life worthwhile in the eyes of the ton.”

Her voice had lost its fire, and she sounded resigned now, as if she knew this was a reality she would have to accept but could not bring herself to do it just yet.

Alex offered no platitudes, no words of comfort. He couldn’t speak to her mother’s feelings, but everything else Emmy had said was true, and they both knew it.

“To borrow your question from earlier,” he said, “are you reluctant to marry?”

She hesitated, and he waited on tenterhooks, watching the parade of emotions drift across her expressive face as she considered her response.

“My two dearest friends are recently married, and both of them married for love,” she said. “I am, of course, exceedingly happy for them, but I have to admit I do feel a bit…left out.” She furrowed her brow. “Which is very confusing because I’ve never given much thought to marriage. I like my life as it is, living in London for most of the year, doing as I please with no one to answer to—except my mother, of course—and I don’t want it to change.” She spread her hands out, palms up. “Marriage would change everything. Maybe even me.”

Alex parted his lips, intending to tell her that marriage didn’t have to change anything, but then his sister approached and drew Emmy away, leaving him alone on the sofa with his thoughts, which, unsurprisingly, were all of Emmy.

He watched while she joined his sister at the pianoforte, smiling as the two launched into a lively duet, their laughter filling the room.

Emmy was an attractive woman, and he was attracted to her, though she was not beautiful in the classic sense. Her forehead was a touch too broad, her eyes too large, her mouth too wide.

Everything about her was too something, and yet, all together, the pieces made up the most interesting and enticing woman he’d ever met.

She was easy to talk to, and that was a rarity for him. Somehow she had this way of getting him to share things with her, things he would normally never discuss with someone he’d known for only a week. Yet with her, he did. It was odd. And even odder that he didn’t seem to mind.

He was at ease around her, and when he married, he hoped his bride would make him feel as comfortable as she did.

He might actually have considered asking her to be his bride, if he thought there was even the smallest chance she would have him. Unfortunately, Emmy Keswick seemed determined to remain unmarried, and Alex had a feeling changing her mind on anything would be akin to moving mountains.