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Cry her eyes out until she had no more tears left. That was a good start anyway. Emma tried to extricate herself from his hold, but he tightened his grip on her waist. “Nothing,” she whispered. “It was a mistake to summon you, my lord. I am very sorry for my ruse.”

“I’m not,” he said, his voice strong and unwavering. “I only wish you’d done so sooner.”

“That is a horrible thing to say. Please let me go.”

But he slowly shook his head in response to her request. “So you can chase after that inept Mason again? Or perhaps throw yourself in Lockwell’s path instead?” His light eyes lost their twinkle and he seemed able to stare right into her soul. “I’d really rather not have to call out my own friend, Emma. So please don’t force me to do so.”

Heavens! Hehadthreatened the magistrate with a dawn appointment, hadn’t he? What if Lord Heathfield had been wounded or worse? “Would youreallyhave dueled with Sir Thomas?”

“Would you really have let him kiss you?” Heathfield countered.

That had been the plan, hadn’t it? Emma shrugged instead of answering him.

“Tell me why were you so dead-set on kissing that featherbrained dolt?”

Blast him! A trickle of tears threatened behind her lashes and Emma tried to blink them away.

“Emma,” he said softly and smoothed his hand up her back. “Tell me the truth. All of it. And I’ll reward you with a truth of my own.”

“The truth?” she echoed, not even recognizing the croaking sound of her own voice.

Heathfield nodded. “There is no Balthasar Blommen, is there?”

He knew that too? Emma’s eyes dropped to his expertly tied cravat as it was much easier than looking him in the eyes. Heavens, she was the worst liar ever born. She really should have had more practice prevaricating before now.

“Tell me all of it, love,” he continued. “There is no Blommen, is there?”

“Well, there might be.”

“Emma.”

She shook her head. “But if there is, I don’t know him,” she whispered. “I’m certainly not betrothed to him.”

“I didn’t think so.” He sighed. “What Idon’tunderstand in all of this mess is why you were tempting Mason to kiss you.”

Emma raised her gaze to meet his. He knew everything else, after all. “I didn’t want to remember your kiss. I thought…” She let her voice trail off rather than finish her sentence.

“Ah.” Heathfield nodded as though all of his questions had been answered. “Emma, I think you have been under the misunderstanding that I have a fiancée.”

Emma’s mouth fell open. Was he serious? The first bit of hope she had experienced all evening bloomed in her heart. “Misunderstanding?”

He had said he had a fiancée, hadn’t he? She couldn’t have possibly misheard that. The word had echoed in her mind like the toll of an ominous bell ever since she heard him utter it.

CHAPTER8

Heath couldn’t helpbut grin at Emma. She was so adorable, her brow all furrowed as she tried to reason out the situation in her mind. “But you said…”

“WhatdidI say?”

She shook her pretty head and her auburn curls bounced about her shoulders. “You said you’ve avoided the marriage mart because you were already betrothed. That you had been betrothed since you were a child.”

When she put it like that, the situation did sound bleak. Poor girl. Heath squeezed her hand and dropped a kiss to her brow. “Sunshine, I did say that, and it was true—up until Lady Marianne eloped across the border during the last season.”

Emma blinked at him as though she didn’t quite believe his words.

Heath glanced around at the portraits of her ancestors. They definitely needed to find a more suitable location for this conversation. Preferably a place that didn’t have her dour, long-deceased relations staring at him. It had been years since he’d spent any time at Danby Castle, however Heath did remember one place they would be assured absolute privacy. “Come with me,” he said, towing her slightly towards the exit.

“Where are we going?”