Emily

Chapter Twelve

Nate was oddly cheerful when Emily went to see him in his study the next morning.

Everyone else had gone to town to do a little shopping and to cheer Allie up, but Emily had opted to stay behind with Nate. For the first hour, she'd read, but had gotten bored soon after and chose to go see Nate instead. She'd expected for him to be all in a huff about the situation with Allie from the night before and that she'd have to console him but, now that he was before her, he was acting oddly jovial and Emily suspected that she knew exactly why.

"I take it your visit with Mr. Bennett last night was satisfactory?" She asked amusedly, knowing that she'd hit the nail on the head when he smiled widely.

"It was better than satisfactory." Nate replied, closing the ledger he'd been perusing. "The man was quaking in his boots when I threatened him. He wasted no time in telling me that he would pack up and leave as soon as his affairs were in order. I told him that if he didn't leave by Saturday, I would have to return and my visit wouldn't be as pleasant then." Nate said gleefully, feeling no limit to his vindication at the thought of threatening the man who broke his sister's heart.

Emily couldn't help herself as she giggled, and Nate's eyes filled with further joy as he continued, "I wish I'd punched him. Unfortunately, I'm not exactly the best with my fists. The only fight I've been in was with this boy at Eton— James Whittaker. The only reason I beat him was because his leg was already broken and he couldn't dodge me very well when I went at him." Nate admitted wistfully, successfully entertaining Emily even further.

"I can imagine the scene." Emily said with a short laugh, and Nate grinned even wider. "If you need any lessons, I'd be happy to teach you."

"Are you a good boxer, then?" Nate asked, leaning back in his chair as he abandoned his work entirely and focused his attention on her, which made her cheeks flush lightly.

"I have no idea." Emily answered, and his brows raised bemusedly before she added, "I have had neither formal training nor any opportunity to try but, from the sorry display you just described, I'm rather sure that even I'd be better at it than you are."

"Hilarious." Nate said petulantly, pretending to be offended as he pouted dramatically, as a child would. "Really, really hilarious. Comedic gold, I must say."

"It's not a joke." Emily informed him in faux seriousness, "But, rather, the truth. I'm sure I could best you in an instant."

"Have you seen my muscles?" Nate asked teasingly, flexing his rather bulky arms. Emily couldn't help but have her gaze flit to them, watching in awe and some level of admiration, entirely fascinated by the muscle and sinew that was rather evident through the thin white shirt he wore. Since he was at home and in his study, he'd taken off his coat.

"I daresay I have." She breathed, barely realising as the words slipped past her lips and flushing bright red in embarrassment the moment she noticed they had.  That was such a foolish thing to say and she couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to say it. Just as she was about to stammer out some sort of response, there was a loud knock on the study door that saved her from Nate's penetrating, knowing gaze that did nothing to alleviate her embarrassment at her idiocy.

The door swung open, and a footman entered with a tray of tea that she'd forgotten she'd asked for. Along with the tea, there was a plate of scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream, as both she and Nate had inadvertently skipped breakfast, as she'd learned from the maid, Ella, who had been in to help her dress and had braided her hair for her.

"How did you know I hadn't eaten?" Nate asked, eyeing the tray once the footman had set it down and left the room with a short bow, closing the door again behind him.