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“Oh.” She stood up a little too quickly to make it graceful, and Will stifled a grimace. Yes, he’d botched their first night together, to the point that she very nearly fainted every time he came calling. When she’d suggested separate bedchambers he’d immediately agreed, but if she still meant to jump every time he gave her a kiss on the cheek… “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I… You didn’t. I was only surprised.”
He smiled. “Good. That you weren’t upset, I mean.”
“I wasn’t. I…” She cleared her throat. “I thought it best we begin with something the children especially requested,” she went on, stepping to the door and opening it again. “Perhaps I’ll do letters and drawing with George this afternoon, if you’ll—”
“Ah. Fencing with Rose. Or ‘swording,’ as she calls it.” He nodded. “Yes. That should put a bit of sweet to disguise the sour of making them learn manners.” Will forced a grin, hoping he looked charming and not like an idiot. “I certainly never liked that bit, and my tutors were able to stretch it into a decade or more.”
“I always looked on manners and propriety as learning how to sculpt,” she said, staying by the door, but at least facing him again. “Which smile and which nod evoked the wished-for response. I doubt there has ever been a conflict in the world that couldn’t have been solved by someone applying a compliment or a kind word at the precise right moment.”
“Hmm.” His months of work seeing one trade agreement with Egypt signed wouldn’t concur with her statement, but he understood what she meant.
Her soft blush deepened to an embarrassed red. “I didn’t mean to insult your work, Will, for heaven’s sake. It is an art, don’t you think?” she retorted. “I’ve seen you paint a masterpiece or two, yourself.”
He climbed to his feet. “Thank you for saying so. And yes, I do take your meaning.”
“I…” Emmeline swallowed. “Why do you suddenly seem to be looking at me all the time? I worry I have pudding on my face, or something.”
The one thing worse than being caught staring—gazing—at someone was having to explain it. “You’re my wife, Emmeline. I believe gazing is not forbidden.”
“Of course it’s not. But… you never used to do it.”
Will blew out his breath. Negotiating with hostile foreign dignitaries was simple, compared to this. “I did used to gaze at you. You just never noticed.”
“I—”
“It’s just… I thought I—that is to say… I thought I knew all your facets, Emmeline,” he interrupted, before she forced him to confess that he’d been moonstruck over her since she’d turned sixteen and he’d realized she wasn’t just… Emmie any longer. And that they were neighbors, not siblings. “It turns out, I do not.”
She smiled again. “Thank you, I suppose,” she said. “And since we’re being honest, you’ve become so upstanding that I thought you would flee the moment you discovered I’d been lying. You’re more… naughty than I’d realized.”
“‘Naughty’?” He lifted an eyebrow, stunned and supremely flattered. “How does being invested in my wife’s activities make me bad? Not that I object to a bit of naughtiness.”
She blinked, a grin touching her fine mouth. “I meant knotty, as in complicated. A Gordian knot, as it were.”
Now his face felt hot. “Ah.” Will stood and walked to the door, making certain his hand brushed hers as he passed her. “Perhaps I’m both kinds of knotty.”
Her fingers curled, prolonging the touch for just a moment. “And perhaps I’m beginning to like that about you,” she whispered, just loudly enough that he could hear.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
George knew most of his letters by sight, but Emmie wrote them all out and had him copy what she’d done as they went over the sounds each one made. Meanwhile, outside the library at the top of the garden, Will and Rose faced each other, both armed with broomsticks. While George scrawled out letters, his tongue between his lips, Emmie strolled to the center window and pushed it open.
“How are you doing?” she called.
Will turned to look at her. “I’m just explaining the rules and history, how traditionally opponents would exchange verbal ripostes in an attempt to rattle each oth—”
Rose lunged forward and caught him in the ribs with her broomstick. “En garde!” she yelled.
“We’re forgoing the verbal jousting, I see,” he said, grunting and rubbing his chest, “and moving directly to the bloodletting.”
“I won!” Rose crowed, jabbing her broomstick into the air. “This is so easy!”
“Well, of course it’s easy if you don’t follow the rules,” Will countered.
“If we followed the rules, you couldn’t hit a little girl.”
He lifted both eyebrows. “We’re not following the rules, then?” Twirling the broomstick in one hand, he flicked it out and tapped Rose on one foot, then on the other.