"I suppose." Emily shrugged and tried to turn away, but Eli held her hand fast.
"Who was it?" he asked. "Sherborne? Or the vicar's son? I remember when he used to come around to see you."
"Neither," she said. "Shall we make our wish?"
"Are you attempting to change the subject in the middle of a serious discussion?"
"Serious?" She laughed. "There is nothing serious about wishing on a dandelion. It is the stuff of myths and fairytales."
"If it is not real, then you should tell me whose affection you were seeking with all those wishes."
"All?" She gasped. "You said you saw me once or twice. This is getting worse by the minute. Why, you're no better than Sophia. I've married a spy."
"If you won't tell me I may die of curiosity, and then this wish for years of happiness will be in vain."
Emily rolled her eyes. "You'd laugh."
He pouted, but she shook her head, refusing to give in. Eli let the subject go for now, but intended to ask later, some future day when they knew each other much better.
Facing one another they held the dandelion between them and spoke their wish at the same time. Then they each blew, successfully sending all the seeds flying-into each other's faces.
"Oh!" Emily exclaimed just before she began sneezing.
Eli dared not laugh at her; he was fairly certain one of the seeds had gone up into his nose.
"Come here," he said, when she was finally still after four sneezes in a row. "You've one in your eyebrow."
Emily tilted her head up obediently, and with great care Eli leaned close and brushed the piece of fluff away. "All gone." His fingers lingered, then slowly made their way down the side of her face, tracing the curve of her cheekbone. "I fear I must be dreaming, and I will wake up and find you are not mine after all."
"There is nothing to fear," she said quietly. "We are really here, and I will not abandon you as your father did your mother."
Eli's chest tightened at the mention of his greatest fear. To have no hope of Emily had been bearable. But to have her and then lose her …
As if she sensed his worry, Emily spoke again. "You needn't fear that my earlier wishes were for another man. My heart's desire was that Fortune would love me as much as I loved her."
Eli stared for several seconds, uncertain he had heard her correctly. "Your wishes were for-your horse?"
Color flooded Emily's cheeks once more. "It is silly, I know, but Sophia also wanted Fortune to be hers, and Father had said the horse would choose its owner and-"
"Your horse!" Eli threw his head back and laughed, a great rumble from his middle that soon had him near doubling over.
"It isn't that amusing." Emily tugged her hand from his and crossed her arms in front of her. "See if I ever tell you anything again." Her toe tapped the ground.
Eli wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just-I knew you loved your horse, but that is real love." He paused, considering. "Your first love was a large, hairy beast. And then you voluntarily wed a gentle, bearded giant. I believe I'm seeing the connection now. I am not quite as good as a horse, but perhaps passable." He grinned. "I suppose you'll want me to grow that obnoxious beard again."
"No. I do not."
She met his eye, and Eli could see she was having difficulty containing a smile.
"I find your face quite handsome without it."
His smile widened. "Considering your first love was a horse, I am not at all certain that is a compliment."
They picnicked later that afternoon, enjoying the delicacies provided in the basket from the baron's cook. It was then Eli cautiously presented some of the realities of their new life.
"I have not hired any servants yet, but we have enough presently to hire one or two of your choosing."
"Presently?"
He heard it there, the subtle undertone of worry in her voice. Coming from the life she had-never wanting for anything-the idea of going without must be frightening. It was something he would have to be aware of. He'd started with so little that what he had now seemed more than enough, but she very well might not feel that way.
"With our current income," he explained. "In the future, we may be able to afford more."
She nodded.
"I would suggest perhaps that we first set about employing a cook-unless you are inclined to that task yourself."
"Me-cook?" Her eyes grew wide and terrified. "If we are dependent upon my skills in the kitchen, I fear that in very short order we shall starve."
"We cannot have that, not after I assured your father I could provide for you." Eli smiled to let her know he was neither surprised nor upset. "A cook we shall have, along with a housekeeper once or twice a week. I'm afraid the rest we'll have to manage ourselves."
"I suppose that how properly a bed is made-or not made-will not affect our health too badly." She returned his smile, but it was a little too wide, her effort at trying to be cheerful and positive somewhat obvious.
He tried to see her side of things, to imagine if the tables were turned and he was forced to step into the role of the Earl of Shrewsbury. He would not have liked it one bit, yet he would have done it-for Emily. If it comes down to it, I shall do it for her. But it was not his first choice. Aside from the harm it would cause Sherborne and the uproar and scandal that would ripple through the peerage, the life of an earl wasn't a life he wanted to have.
His father had lived in a prison of privilege and luxury his entire life, never free to be with the woman he loved or to have the life he wanted. Eli had seen two different homes, and he knew the kind he wished to have.
The one we will have. He would simply have to love Emily so much that it made up for all she'd left behind.
Their talk turned to other things. She shared tales of Sophia and all the mischief she used to cause and the fun they used to have, in spite of their age and personality differences.
Eli told of his father and the winter storm that had brought him to his doorstep.
"He did not know who I was at first, and I was too ill to tell him, to realize that the man I had been searching for was the one who had found me and brought me to his home, literally saving my life. Later my father said it was my mother's presence that guided him to me that night. She appeared in his mind, and it was almost as if they were having a conversation. She told him where to find me."
"And he listened?" Emily leaned forward, again paying rapt attention.
"He did." Noting the late hour, Eli began returning things to the basket. Emily joined him, and their hands bumped as they both reached for the same item.
"I'm sorry." They each spoke at once.
Eli leaned back, allowing her to pick up the bottle and place it in the basket. "You can bump into me any time."
"How is it that all these years we've known each other, I never realized you are such a tease? And I never would have dreamed so many fascinating stories of your past. It is most disturbing to think that I never took the time to learn this of you."
"You could not," Eli said. "Neither could I suggest such a thing. As an employee of your father, it would never have been right."
"Marrying me was right?" Eyes filled with worry lifted to meet his.
You suggested it. He kept the flippant remark to himself. He had used that once already, and perhaps it had been mildly amusing then. He doubted she would find it so a second time. Besides, she might have been the one to voice the idea out loud, but he was the one who had harbored secret affection for her these many years.
"I can think of nothing more right," he said. "Give me a chance, Emily. Give us a chance. We can be happy together. I promise."
They arrived well after midnight. Emily had long since fallen asleep, her head against his shoulder. Eli's mind had been so filled with the day's events and the wonder of having Emily beside him that sleep would not come, likely not anytime tonight.
When the carriage stopped before the house and the step let down and the door opened, he nudged her carefully from his shoulder, propping her head up with his hand as he maneuvered from the seat.
"We're here," he said quietly. "Let me help you out."
"Thank you, Mr. Linfield." She gave him a sleepy smile, and with both hands he reached for her, helping her from the carriage and lifting her in his arms without banging either of their heads on the door frame. Quite a feat.
"I can walk," Emily said, even as she turned her face into his chest and her eyes closed again.
He chuckled and felt his heart swell as he looked down on her. "I'm sure you can."
After giving brief instructions to the driver, Eli made his way up the familiar path, trimmed and tidied by himself in the past week, then turned sideways and fitted the key to the gardener's cottage, fetched from his pocket as he'd exited the carriage, into the door.