Emmaline was in a totally rotten mood. She really didn’t need this. Her mistake was that she never saw the problem coming. And believe her, it was in the list of her worst nightmares. And she had been looking forward to a relaxing summer holiday, but she didn’t think she could go through it in peace now. And thank you very much indeed, she fumed silently as she deadheaded more wilted flowers ferociously and tossed them into the available basket beside her.

Mud splattered as she stabbed the ground repetitively with her scissors, letting out curses that would make the ladies in her circle blushed. She expected her temper to mellow down a little with her sudden spur of action, but it only fuelled her resentment. She couldn’t believe what he did!

“How could he,”

Emmaline wiped her wet face as beads of rain ran down her face, staining her smooth skin with soil. She blinked her eyes rapidly. The prospect of playing with mud and sand was one of the reasons why she loved gardening, but this time the fun was absent. She was far too angry and too tired to really revel in the joy of gardening.

Sitting on her heels, she sighed in exhaustion. At least, her mind had finally calmed down with only a dull ache left in her heart. Ignoring the stains of mud on her summer dress, she shivered involuntarily as she hugged herself. Chilling beads of rain slowly seeped into her thin cardigan. An ironic smile spread across her features as she raised her face skyward. Tasting the sweet flavour of the free falling rain, she closed her damp eyes.

She would not cry now.

Emmaline only opened her eyes when the rain stopped plummeting on her face altogether. Raised her eyebrows in mild surprise, she let her curiosity wander as her eyes encountered a very bright red object on top of her head.

Bright, blinding red.

The rich colour insulted her eyes, and she looked away from it only to meet Henry’s intense azure orbs. She was more than ready to reprimand him for disturbing her reverie, and yet her annoyance melted quickly into awe as realisation dawned upon her. Henry had come. For her.

Obviously not for the sentimental reasons, she mused inwardly.

One hand flew to the base of her neck in a defensive gesture, as the sudden and illogical urge to protect herself against his intense aura overwhelmed her feelings. Her other hand swept a wet strand off her face as she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, drinking the sight before her. Or, should one say, measuring him warily from head to toe.

“Oh, it’s you.” Emmaline remarked indifferently as she turned away from him, trying very hard to ignore Henry’s presence as she focused her mind back to the task she had been doing before the distraction. She would never cry before Henry Fenton. Never ever. And she didn’t plan to break her vow anytime soon. Not after her hard work being part of the boys. She was good at hiding her feelings, and she intended to continue to be so.

Henry merely lifted an eyebrow at her cold display and planted one hand casually into his waist. Annoyance darkened the colour of his eyes, although his overall stance betrayed none of his resentment.

Emmaline’s attitude made him think, unfortunately.

It wasn’t common for Emmaline to avoid him, and never in their ten years of growing up together did she ignore him. When he came home from Eton for the first time when he was thirteen, she had even jumped onto him all of sudden, causing both of them to lose balance and fell on the ground. That annoyed the hell out of him.

Emmaline probably didn’t want him to know that she had been crying, but he caught her shedding the tears, even as she turned away to avoid his eyes. Whatever happened must have grated on confident Emmaline’s sturdy walls of security.

Eyes narrowed into two slits, Henry scrutinised the slender back of the young woman who once had gladly thrown herself into a muddy river despite the vehement protestations of their nursemaid. His eyes marvelled along the silky sandy blonde tresses, beads of rain dangling and shimmering on each end of the thread like little diamonds.

Tightening his hold on the umbrella, Henry stifled a sigh as he crouched down beside her. He ground his teeth when his shoulder brushed hers accidentally, and all of sudden, the urge to run his fingers along the iridescent tresses intensified. What a temptation.

Almost smiling, Henry could only feel a surge of inexplicable feeling as he looked at her. Emmaline was really beautiful, and he had always told friends with a pride of an older

brother. And he was confident other people would agree with him. Emmaline’s beauty had truly blossomed with time.

But now was not the time nor the place of his admiration. He had a mission.