Page 55 of Not Just Any Earl
“And now? Do you understand now, sweetheart?”
“I think so,” she whispered, giving him a shy smile.
He smiled back, his blue so warm, and then in the next breath he was kissing her, his lips gentle and desperate at once, parting eagerly over hers, his tongue darting out to tease and coax her mouth open, a low groan rumbling in his throat when she did so at once, welcoming him inside.
He cupped the back of her head, all restraint gone as he kissed her over and over again, pulling her closer so not even a breath of air separated them, his heat chasing the chill from her skin, his long fingers tangling in her hair.
They were both breathless when he relinquished her mouth at last. “You won’t ever leave me again?”
“No, never.”
He stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “I’m madly in love with you, Emmeline Templeton. I loved you before I ever saw your face.”
Emmeline traced her fingertips over the strong line of his jaw before she took his face in shaking hands, her heart overflowing. “And I’ve loved you since our first moments together in Lady Fosberry’s library, before I ever knew your name.”
Johnathan turned his head to press a kiss to her palm. “You’ll marry me, then?”
He looked so uncertain, yet at the same time so hopeful, she couldn’t help but press another kiss to his lips. “I will, yes.”
“Even if it means becoming a countess?”
Emmeline bit her lip to hide her smile. “Only if it means becoming your countess.”
“Ah, that’s lucky, then, because it does.”
He took her mouth again then, his hands on her waist urging her closer, his lips parting on a groan as they opened over hers. She met him with shy caresses of her own, her tongue growing bolder with every dizzying stroke until things might have gotten quite heated, indeed, if she hadn’t accidentally poked his chin with the stem of the white tea rose still clutched in her hand.
“What’s this?” He reached out to finger a leaf. “Something new?”
“No.” She smiled, shaking her head, and raised the bloom to his nose. “Something old. Do you like it?”
He caught her wrist, the cornflower-blue eyes she loved so well widening with surprise as he inhaled the intoxicating scent of wood, citrus, and warm spice. “That’s lovely.” He cocked his head as he examined the blossom. “Surprising little flower, isn’t it? I wouldn’t have put such a memorable scent with this rose, but of all the roses we’ve seen, this one is my favorite.”
“It’s special, isn’t it?” Emmeline twined her arms around his neck, her heart swelling with love, and her head spinning with the scent of wild ginger. “It’s my favorite, too.”
Epilogue
Melrose House, Chatham, Kent, Six weeks later
Something was tickling Emmeline’s back, brushing her spine and making her arch and shiver. She might have mistaken it for Johnathan’s fingertips or his lips, as he often woke her with teasing caresses, but the touch was cool, and slightly damp.
It felt like…
“Is that a rose?” she murmured sleepily, a smile curving her lips. “Are you tickling my spine with a rose, my lord?”
“Mmmmm.” The warm drift of Johnathan’s breath fanned over the loose waves of hair tumbling in wild disarray around her face, and she could feel the warm press of his bare skin against hers.
“Which rose is it?” Her eyelids dropped closed as the wicked caress continued, gliding over the dip in the middle of her back before inching sideways to follow the curve of her waist. “It has a divine scent.”
“It’s the Lady Emmeline.”
Emmeline opened one eye. “The Lady Emmeline? There isn’t a rose named the Lady Emmeline that I know of.”
“There is now. Margaret, Harriet, and Sarah have renamed the Great Maiden’s Blush the Lady Emmeline, in your honor. They said it has the sweetest scent of any rose in the garden, and so it should be named after the sweetest countess in all of England. I could hardly argue with that logic, could I?”
A laugh bubbled up in Emmeline’s throat. “They said so, or you did, and they agreed with you?”
“Hmm. I can’t quite remember.” Johnathan traced her earlobe with the rose, a soft laugh leaving his lips when she caught her breath at the caress. “But we all agreed the Great Maiden’s Blush will hereafter be known as the Lady Emmeline, at least in the Melrose House gardens.”
