close
to panic, came over her and she nearly bolted for the front door, but it
was too late. She would not give him such a view of her, scrabbling
to escape. Instead, she turned to smile coolly as Emory came into the
hall.
Almost, she let surprise show ridiculously on her face, but he
wouldn't have been in any state to notice it, anyway. Deep lines of
exhaustion were cut into his face, and he looked older, discouraged;
curiously, heart wrenchingly; not at all the puppy-dog personality
she'd always attributed to him.
'Good heavens, man,' she said quietly, shocked Out of all social
frivolity as she walked towards him. 'What's happened to you?'
'Hm? Oh, good morning, Caprice,' he replied, a heaviness in his
voice which was unusual. He looked around him, as if seeing
everything for the first time. 'I—couldn't sleep.'
She regarded him sharply, frowningly, and then jerked her head
towards the library. 'Why don't you tell me about it?'
He followed her back into the room and, as she turned to stare at him
questioningly, he strolled over to the large windows comprising most
of the far wall, staring out, his blond head gleaming a pale gold in the
reflected sunlight. He looked as if he would like to speak, and then
just bowed and shook his head.
'Come on, Emory,' she urged in a low voice. 'If you'd like to talk, feel
free. I don't gossip, nor do I break confidences.'
He glanced back at her, his good-natured blue eyes dark. 'I proposed
to Petra last night, and she refused,' he said simply.
She blinked once or twice, and tried to fit what he'd said into the
framework of what she had observed of the pair. Petra had shown as
much sincere interest in Emory as he had for her. 'I find that a bit
hard to believe,' she said finally, and she sat in an armchair, crossing
her legs. 'I could have sworn she was in love with you.'
'I'd thought so.' His face shook, and she felt suddenly appalled. This
was was not a man with a sadly bruised ego, or a disappointed heart.
This man was shattered.
'Emory,' she said, as gently as she could. 'Come sit down.' He sat,
leaning forward and staring down at his hands, laced and hung
between his knees. 'Now listen. Several people have noticed you and
Petra this weekend. Even I, who hadn't met her before, could see that
you two must have some son of history together. And I've noticed
how she would look at you. If someone else has noticed, then it can't
be your imagination. That girl does care for you.'
'Then why?' he whispered to his hands. 'Why did she say no?'
'I suppose,' she replied drily, 'you didn't think to ask? No, I can see
you didn't. I don't know; who can say what went through her mind?
Perhaps she was simply afraid of the thought of marriage. God
knows, it's a serious commitment.'
'I have a steady, well paying career. I don't smoke, rarely drink and
never heavily, and my family has an excellent background. I—I'm a
gentle man,' he said. 'How could she be afraid?'
'You'll never know, unless you ask her,' she said, leaning forward to
touch at his hands. He looked up, and into her dark violet eyes. She
smiled faintly. 'Take your time, get your courage up and your
composure back, and then talk to her about it. Ask her to explain. It
might have been nothing more than that she simply needed to hear
what you would say if she refused you. Since apparently you didn't
even question her reply, she may now be as shattered as you are.'
A hope was born in his eyes, and grew. 'Do you really think that's it?'
She shook her head. 'I don't know. Someone once told me, though,
that we never do something without a reason. I didn't say this to him,
but he was right. It's just that sometimes we don't know the reason
ourselves.'
She didn't know why, but she looked up and to her right. In the
doorway, Pierce stood leaning against the doorpost, hands in pockets,
making the material stretch tightly over lean hips, feet crossed. He
appeared as though he had been
to panic, came over her and she nearly bolted for the front door, but it
was too late. She would not give him such a view of her, scrabbling
to escape. Instead, she turned to smile coolly as Emory came into the
hall.
Almost, she let surprise show ridiculously on her face, but he
wouldn't have been in any state to notice it, anyway. Deep lines of
exhaustion were cut into his face, and he looked older, discouraged;
curiously, heart wrenchingly; not at all the puppy-dog personality
she'd always attributed to him.
'Good heavens, man,' she said quietly, shocked Out of all social
frivolity as she walked towards him. 'What's happened to you?'
'Hm? Oh, good morning, Caprice,' he replied, a heaviness in his
voice which was unusual. He looked around him, as if seeing
everything for the first time. 'I—couldn't sleep.'
She regarded him sharply, frowningly, and then jerked her head
towards the library. 'Why don't you tell me about it?'
He followed her back into the room and, as she turned to stare at him
questioningly, he strolled over to the large windows comprising most
of the far wall, staring out, his blond head gleaming a pale gold in the
reflected sunlight. He looked as if he would like to speak, and then
just bowed and shook his head.
'Come on, Emory,' she urged in a low voice. 'If you'd like to talk, feel
free. I don't gossip, nor do I break confidences.'
He glanced back at her, his good-natured blue eyes dark. 'I proposed
to Petra last night, and she refused,' he said simply.
She blinked once or twice, and tried to fit what he'd said into the
framework of what she had observed of the pair. Petra had shown as
much sincere interest in Emory as he had for her. 'I find that a bit
hard to believe,' she said finally, and she sat in an armchair, crossing
her legs. 'I could have sworn she was in love with you.'
'I'd thought so.' His face shook, and she felt suddenly appalled. This
was was not a man with a sadly bruised ego, or a disappointed heart.
This man was shattered.
'Emory,' she said, as gently as she could. 'Come sit down.' He sat,
leaning forward and staring down at his hands, laced and hung
between his knees. 'Now listen. Several people have noticed you and
Petra this weekend. Even I, who hadn't met her before, could see that
you two must have some son of history together. And I've noticed
how she would look at you. If someone else has noticed, then it can't
be your imagination. That girl does care for you.'
'Then why?' he whispered to his hands. 'Why did she say no?'
'I suppose,' she replied drily, 'you didn't think to ask? No, I can see
you didn't. I don't know; who can say what went through her mind?
Perhaps she was simply afraid of the thought of marriage. God
knows, it's a serious commitment.'
'I have a steady, well paying career. I don't smoke, rarely drink and
never heavily, and my family has an excellent background. I—I'm a
gentle man,' he said. 'How could she be afraid?'
'You'll never know, unless you ask her,' she said, leaning forward to
touch at his hands. He looked up, and into her dark violet eyes. She
smiled faintly. 'Take your time, get your courage up and your
composure back, and then talk to her about it. Ask her to explain. It
might have been nothing more than that she simply needed to hear
what you would say if she refused you. Since apparently you didn't
even question her reply, she may now be as shattered as you are.'
A hope was born in his eyes, and grew. 'Do you really think that's it?'
She shook her head. 'I don't know. Someone once told me, though,
that we never do something without a reason. I didn't say this to him,
but he was right. It's just that sometimes we don't know the reason
ourselves.'
She didn't know why, but she looked up and to her right. In the
doorway, Pierce stood leaning against the doorpost, hands in pockets,
making the material stretch tightly over lean hips, feet crossed. He
appeared as though he had been
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