But he wasn't ready for everything yet. Not at the moment, at least. He was used to seeing just this infectious side of her that drew everyone in.
He didn't even realize he had been staring too long. He only had to lean over and he'd discover if her lips were as supple as they looked, or if the slap she would definitely give him would make him regret the thought of ever exploring them.
"What are you thinking?"
"How strong you can slap."
Her laughter rang around the small tree house. She rolling on her side. "Unless you're thinking of kissing me, you won't have to find out."
He forced out a chuckle. "Do you always think of ridiculous things?"
Her smile disappeared, and she frowned. "Kissing isn't ridiculous." Getting up on her knees, she sighed. "Ah. You mean us kissing."
"No, I don't think it would be ridiculous."
Her face had turned flat. She arched a brow as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. "Then what is?"
"That you can think of kissing at this moment." That was stupid, and he knew that. 
"Well, you thought about me slapping you. That's even more ridiculous." Her voice was getting sharper by the second.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I'm tired."
Emory closed his eyes and mentally slapped himself before crawling out behind her.
"You're angry," he said, jumping down the ladder.
"Hush. The Fitzwilliams are asleep."
He chased her down the path to the manor. "You know who you remind me of?" she asked.
"Who?"
"My Uncle Norman."
"What happened to him?"
"He died a clueless man."
"Whatever do you mean?"
She scoffed. "Exactly." Shaking her head, she clucked her tongue. "Clueless."
Emory gritted his teeth. She was wrong. He knew what she meant. And he knew what she was thinking back at the tree house.
Falling one step behind her, he shut his mouth. The more he talked, the more he made himself look stupid.
Of course, he wanted to kiss her. So much so that it took immense control not to. If they crossed that line, unexpected things could happen.
Unexpected things meant no plans. And 'no plans' was what he was at the moment.
"Maybe you're right," he quietly told her. "I'm clueless."
She smiled and waited until he caught up with her. "Of course, you are. You're not even sure if you want to marry me."
He wasn't even offended because she was right.
***
"Then Mariana barged into the room and-"
"Who is Mariana again?" Henry asked through a mouthful of berries.
"The cousin who married the grandson of the Minister of Household," Emory replied beside Florence.
"Ah, now I remember. The one who just gave birth to a little boy."
"Girl," Emory corrected, picking a berry from Florence's hand.
The four of them-Emory, Florence, Henry, and Lucy-were on their way to visit the Davidsons. With the weather more pleasant, they decided to travel on foot. The guards were nearby, but unseen.