Page 75 of To Have & To Hold

Emilia did not say a single word. Nathaniel's heart beat wildly, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms, but terrified of asking for more than she wished to give.

He reluctantly let his hand fall away, dropping his gaze to the floor as he began to stand. Emilia caught his wrist gently, stopping. She turned his hand until his palm faced upward, then lifted it back to her face until it cradled her cheek.

The warmth from her flushed skin spread through him, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She turned her head, placing a soft kiss against the inside of his wrist.

Nathaniel closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her beneath his touch and her lips upon his skin. He tried to temper the hope burning fiercely in his chest, but it pressed painfully against his ribs, longing to be set free.

“Nathaniel…”

Her voice was so soft, and yet Nathaniel was certain he had never heard his name sound so lovely. He opened his eyes to find hers shining with tears that reflected the tenderness in her gaze.

“There is something I must tell you,” Emilia whispered.

Nathaniel's heart leaped in anticipation. He offered her an encouraging smile. “My dear, you can tell me anything.”

The sound of shattering glass broke the stillness. Frantic pounding echoed through the halls outside the drawing room, as though someone were attempting to break down the door.

Nathaniel was half way across the room before he even realized he had moved. Emilia was close behind him, but he held out his arm to keep her back.

“Stay here!”

The door to the drawing room flew open, and a frantic Briggs barreled inside. “There is a gentleman at the front door, Your Grace.”

Another crash reverberated through the house. “Due to the hour, we have not permitted him entrance, but he seems quite determined to force his own way.

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. The heat that had consumed him just moments ago went cold. “Is he alone?” he asked.

The skittish butler nodded his head. “As far as we can determine, Your Grace.”

“And where is Lady Charlotte?”

“In her chambers, Your Grace.”

Nathaniel took a deep breath and turned back towards Emilia. Her eyes were wide with fear. He took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Until I return, you are not to leave this room. Do you understand?”

“Nathaniel, please…”

He silenced her fears with a gentle squeeze of her hand. “If there is any danger, I shall not let it reach you.”

He released her hand before he lost the strength to do so and instead drew her into his arms to hold her until the danger passed. “I will be back shortly, my dear.”

Nathaniel turned to follow Briggs from the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Whoever awaited him in the entrance hall had come to Rosemore in anger, but they would soon discover that anger was a poor match for the Duke of Kenswick when the safety of those he loved were threatened.

Half a dozen footmen stood shoulder to shoulder before the great doors in the main hall. A few were armed with fireplace pokers and candlesticks, but each one held an inspiring amount of determination.

A large, jagged stone lay abandoned on the floor. One panel of the narrow windows flanking the front entrance had been shattered—glittering shards of glass stretched across the white marble tiles.

Another furious blow rattled the doors.

“KENSWICK!”

Nathaniel stepped forward. “Open the door.”

The footmen all exchanged horrified glances. “Your Grace, perhaps it would be wiser to summon the magistrate.”

“If he wished to rob us, he would not first announce his presence to the entire county.” Nathaniel replied.

Another thunderous blow came in response.