It was nearly midnight by the time Emma and I slid silently into the backseats of the SUV.

Emma leaned back with a sigh and swiftly kicked off her heeled shoes. I swore I heard her murmur "bloody torture devices" softly under her breath.

"What was that?" I asked as I clipped my seatbelt into its buckle.

"Nothing," she said more clearly as she turned to reach for the belt hovering over her shoulder. "Nothing at all," she added with a quick smile in my direction.

I merely nodded, letting it go, and settled in for the ride back to her flat. The drive was smooth, despite heavier than normal traffic for so late on a Thursday evening. The hum of the air-con drowned out much of the ambient noises from outside and the gentle rocking lulled me to sleep, so when I finally did hear her, I wasn't sure if her faint voice was speaking to me in reality or in a near off dream.

"I didn't get it," Emma admitted in a hushed tone.

I slowly blinked my eyes open and tilted my chin to face her.

Her fingers were knotting themselves in her lap, and her gaze flickered nervously between her tangled fingers and my shoes.

"Why you were so against Cynthia arranging this..." She explained.

I merely blinked again, the last hazy dregs of sleep giving way as a clearer picture of my beautiful girlfriend began to appear. She was slumped in her seat, and her face was angled away from me in a way that made it impossible for me to read her expression.

Finally, she let out a tired sigh and pulled her gaze up to meet mine. I was momentarily lost in the glisten of her mahogany eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

I nodded in understanding, but still took a moment before responding. "I think some things you have to learn on your own."

Emma shifted in her seat and leaned her head back to look at me from a more comfortable angle. "It wasn't so awful... but you're right," she added with a sigh. "It is different."

I glanced down at her fingers, which by now had gone nearly white against the cool blue of her dress. "I wish I could protect you from it, from all of it."

She shook her head adamantly. "I don't," she said firmly. "It's your world, Tom."

Emma's sudden laughter broke the muffled atmosphere of the car. At its ringing, I could feel one or two muscles in my neck loosen. I hadn't noticed when during the evening they had become taught--perhaps at Emma's and my initial separation, or maybe as I watched her interact with Lord and Lady Shelby, or possibly it was at the sight of the stiff smile she offered me once I finally managed to reunite with her later in the evening...

"It's difficult, to be sure," she conceded, her laughter giving way to a familiar smile. "But I'm glad you're sharing it with me."

I stared shamelessly as I watched the corner of her mouth twitch before pulling the rest of her lips along with, spreading them thin and wide, creasing her cheeks with dimples. The skin around her eyes wrinkled, as if hardly able to contain the glowing light emanating from her eyes.

I had seen this smile once before. On the edge of the rooftop pub, against the twilight sky hanging over the village of Hay. The sight of it had stolen my breath--and if I'm honest--whatever remained of my heart that was not already incontrovertibly hers.

I leaned forward and caught her smile within my lips, relishing the taste and feel of it. I held her face in my hands, gingerly holding her to me.

The car suddenly slowed to a halt, and the voice of our driver abruptly sounded over the intercom to alert us that we had arrived.

"Do you..." Emma rasped as the tips of her fingers, now free from their own clutches, ran down the silk edges of my lapel. "Would you like to come up?"