by Mary Brendan
Emma was riveted to the spot by a pair of mesmerising eyes that engulfed her and made her head spin. He was patiently waiting for her to say he must be mistaken so he could present more proof that indeed he wasn’t. She’d no sophistication for this, Emma inwardly wailed. What was she to do now? She forced herself to think calmly and a part of her mind registered the empty seconds ticking by. She didn’t think he’d had Robin apprehended...yet. Perhaps he hadn’t managed to locate his quarry. He wouldn’t have bothered with this farce here today if he had.
Finally, he took pity on her and broke the awful silence with, ‘So you knew about his employment at Milligan’s. What does your father think of it all?’
She chose to remain quiet now, in defiance of his penetrating blue stare and the latent power that she knew he could unleash at any time. She wouldn’t utter a word that might assist him in bringing them down. Her eyes, bright and hard as precious stones, called his bluff, demanding he do his worst or leave them alone.
A moment that seemed suspended in time passed by in which she prayed he would be lenient. His smile strengthened. He turned and strolled on without her, taking the path that led out of sight.
Emma could feel tears of frustration in her eyes, but she furiously dashed them away with the back of a hand. She moved on slowly at first, then with rapid steps. He’d won. Yet more galling was that he knew she’d follow him without a single word of persuasion being necessary.
Chapter Nine
Emma turned the corner to find herself in a trellised arbour, heavy with honeysuckle just breaking into leaf. She took little notice of the pleasant vista. The racing of her heart had left her feeling light-headed, but she was aware of him watching her approach. He might have gained a small victory, but he hadn’t humbled her and she wouldn’t be toyed with as a cat plays with a mouse. Let Lance Harley make his strike or set her and her family free.
He had seated himself on the bench and unfolded two muscular arms along its iron back. He didn’t stand at her approach, but patted the vacant place beside him. She didn’t think he intended to insult her, rather to let her know he wanted no formality between them. Well, she did!
She traversed the granite flags towards the bench, but stayed on her feet, at a distance. ‘What are you intending to do?’ Despite the maze of emotions miring her intelligence, she’d retained enough to know to demand answers rather than give them.
When he remained silent, gazing into the distance, she insisted, ‘Will you tell me, my lord?’ It was the first time she’d called him that and, from the quizzical look he slanted at her, guessed it hadn’t pleased him.
He stretched for her hand then pulled her closer to him. His bowed head was just a little way from her abdomen, his glossy chestnut hair begging one of her palms to cup it.
Abruptly, she snatched her fingers from his and sat down beside him.
‘Where did you meet Simon Gresham?’
‘What?’ She swivelled to stare at his lean profile. ‘Of what importance is that now?’ she cried and made to jump up again, but he caught at her arm, drawing her back.
‘Of some importance, I’d say, as your life was blighted from that day. Your father and brother also paid the price of Gresham coming into your life.’
She couldn’t deny any of that. And if he wanted to know, why not tell him? Rather do that than be bombarded with questions about her brother. ‘We met in Hyde Park,’ she informed stiffly. ‘I was walking with my aunt. Her hat blew off in the breeze and I dashed after it and tripped over. Simon was riding past and stopped to pick me up from the grass.’
‘Ever the gentleman...’
‘Did you know him?’ Emma wondered why he sounded so contemptuous about Simon.
He grunted a negative. ‘Nor his brother. What hold has he over you?’
‘I’ve already told you about that.’
‘I remember you told me your father owes him money. What else?’
Emma felt heat rising in her throat and turned away from him. ‘Why must there be something else?’
‘You’re wary of him.’
‘No more than I am of...’ Her small teeth sank into her lower lip and she left the rest unsaid.
‘You’ve no need to fear me. I meant what I said. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You believe me insincere...a selfish rake with wicked motives and coercion on his mind.’ He laughed low in his throat as she blushed and averted her face. But he mocked himself, not her. Just that morning he would have said his description wasn’t a million miles away from the truth. He’d got his own way. He’d trapped her alone to offer his protection in return for her becoming his mistress. And now he wasn’t sure whether his conscience was bothering him. She wasn’t like other women he’d approached, playing coy to heighten his interest and strike for themselves a sweeter deal.
Before he made his move he’d wanted to discover if the obsession he had with her was as real as it seemed. It was... His loins pulsated uncomfortably from just being this close to her, so he’d got some paltry satisfaction out of his manoeuvres. He smoothed his palms on the cold iron of the bench top, cooling the urge to touch her, kiss her, start the seduction that he’d come here for. In his arrogance he’d never before imagined a woman of straitened circumstances might not take what he offered. Usually, once the chase was done and they were settled in one of his houses they were keen to show him just how grateful they were for his favour. He was generous to his lovers and they were envied and admired for the riches and status he gave them. Then when it was over he made sure they were nicely pensioned off. But Emma Waverley wouldn’t know any of that. Neither, he guessed, would she care to. Reports of his largesse wouldn’t impress her. She’d withdrawn from the fringes of society long ago, still naive despite her ordeal. Her deceitful swain hadn’t been a practised womaniser and he’d taught Emma Waverley nothing of how the beau monde played its games.
Lance knew he could teach her...he could start right now with a kiss...and finish with... He swore beneath his breath, blocking out the rest of that train of thought. He pushed to his feet and prowled to the pathway. ‘Why haven’t you told your father Gresham’s harassing you?’ he asked over a shoulder.
‘There’s no reason for him to know. I can deal with that man on my own.’ A tremor in her voice belied her boast.
‘Not as well as I can. Does Gresham suspect your brother is alive and close by?’
‘No!’ Emma sprang up. ‘He has no idea of it and it must stay that way.’ That unguarded remark had obviated any further denials on Robin’s existence. ‘Joshua would have an even greater hold over us if he did know.’
He turned back to face her. ‘The matter can’t be left as it is to fester. It will only get worse for you all, Emma.’
‘I know...’ The gentleness in his voice as he’d spoken her name was her undoing. A small sob broke in her throat and she shielded her distress with her slender fingers. He was approaching to comfort her. But she knew they mustn’t touch...not in an intimate way. She was too conscious of him...too aware of every single thing about him from the way strands of his long hair curled over his collar to the unyielding strength in the dark fingers he sometimes fastened on her. Swallowing her tears, she returned hastily to perch on the edge of the bench.
Lance walked towards her, stopped close by, muscular thighs, narrow hips, in her line of vision. She wanted to escape, but knew she’d graze herself against him in standing up. She could feel his warmth, sense fragrant tobacco on the idle hand inches from her face. A sparrow bobbing on a gnarled branch of honeysuckle close by suddenly became fascinating to her.
‘So, all in all, you’re in a mess and need outside assistance. But you consider Joshua Gresham to be a safer bet than me, is that it?’ he suggested drily.
‘I never gamble,’ she said, making him mutter something she guessed to be sarcastic.
‘I do...everybody succumb
s to vice, Emma.’
‘Especially women like me, you mean, who often have little option in the matter.’
‘There are worse things for a woman to endure than being generously taken care of. Which leads me to ask, what’s Gresham offered you?’
Her gasp of outrage preceded, ‘I find your impertinence astonishing. And I won’t answer another one of your questions when you have rudely ignored the only one I have asked you.’
‘That’s something you hold the answer to. What am I intending to do? Whatever it is you want me to do, my dear. I’ll engage lawyers to represent your brother in court, pay your father’s debts and provide anything else you can think of that you desire.’
Emma did think. Her mind pored over all he’d said and she concluded with a surge of joyous relief that he couldn’t possibly yet know about Robin and Augusta. If he did he’d promise to shoot her brother dead, not provide him with an expensive attorney. There was still time to warn Robin that he’d been unearthed and must get away immediately. But she’d tread carefully. She mustn’t underestimate Lance Harley for a second.
‘I desire none of that,’ she said quietly.
‘Why not?’
‘It isn’t necessary.’
‘What is necessary, Emma?’ He moved one of those long fingers close to her face, trailing it down the side of her warm cheek.
Emma’s eyelids fell beneath that first caress, so deceitfully sweet. She blinked, flicked her face aside so his finger fell away from her. ‘It’s necessary that you promise never to tell our secrets. It’s necessary that you swear to leave me and my family alone to make what we can of a bad situation in our own way.’
‘And what does such benevolence get me, apart from a place in heaven?’
‘My sincere thanks and my good opinion.’
‘I think you know I was hoping for more besides,’ he said wryly. ‘So why would I not demand it?’
‘Common decency, sir,’ she said huskily. ‘Something I still credit you with and know Joshua Gresham has none of.’
He was quiet and still for some minutes, as was she, and just as Emma felt she couldn’t bear the mounting tension a second longer he spoke.
‘I’ll not cede for compliments any more than I imagine you will. So it’s time for plain speaking. I want you as my mistress. In return for your agreement to that arrangement I’ll sort out the considerable predicament your family is in. I also want to know what has taken place in the past between you and Joshua Gresham in your attempt to keep him at bay.’
‘Indeed, it is time for plain speaking, sir,’ Emma whispered, wondering why she felt wounded hearing him quantify his lust. She had guessed for some time that he would bargain with her like this. She had seen desire in his eyes when he’d accompanied her indoors after rescuing her from the footpads and again when he’d returned to ask after her well-being. He had more finesse, more generosity, in his approach than Joshua. But their aim was the same: to have her in a bed they’d paid for.
‘I have no intention of becoming your harlot any more than I have of becoming Mr Gresham’s. And that is all I will ever say on this subject. Please do not insult me again by bringing it up.’ She felt a fool for having believed even for a second that his single act of gallantry was complimentary, or might make him treat her with respect for ever.
‘Offering you anything you want is an insult?’
‘Yes!’ she stormed. ‘I know you don’t understand. How could you? You believe it is your prerogative to ride roughshod over others’ feelings, careless of hurt and humiliation caused.’ Emma stood up, carefully, steadying herself against the bench. Her eyes were lifted to meet his and she floundered beneath that cool blue gaze, feeling stupidly that she might plead with him to be kind. She swallowed the lump in her throat and slipped past. Soon, she was composed once more and when she judged the space between them great enough she turned back. He was waiting, his expression impassive—he wasn’t going to beg her pardon for upsetting her. What he’d proposed would make such a difference to all their lives that she had almost been tempted to accept. If her father knew of what was at stake, would he choose her wishes over his son’s? Robin had always been her father’s favourite. No matter what scrapes his son got into he would always make excuses for him. But she mustn’t contemplate her father pressing her to take the Earl’s sordid offer. Her twin would deliver her himself into Houndsmere’s clutches if he thought that way lay his freedom. Robin would believe her selfish for refusing. Was she being selfish? Was she putting too high a price on her pride when one single word from her now would melt away all their ills?
‘I think it best that we both forget about what happened between us this afternoon and no hard feelings. I regret if at any time I unintentionally led you to believe my answer would be different.’ She strove to sound sophisticated. ‘We inhabit different worlds and have different codes of conduct. And now, it is time to go back and thank your sister for her hospitality before I leave.’
‘When you’ve had time to think about this logically and wish to find me you can send word to Grosvenor Square.’ He thrust his hands in his pockets while prowling along the path. ‘It would be as well to act soon while you’re still in a position to dictate terms.’
So much for her attempt at conciliation and diplomacy! She took a few paces in his direction to ensure he heard every low, vibrant word she said. ‘I will never need to know where to find you,’ she vowed, eyes sparking angrily. ‘It is my greatest wish that I never have to see or speak to you ever again, my lord.’
‘Well...if you really mean that then it is time for a final goodbye. I agree...let’s have no hard feelings and shake on it.’
As though he’d grown bored of it all he strode towards her, then extended a hand. From his sudden energy she imagined he’d remembered somewhere more interesting to be and was keen to get to it. Emma stretched out her fingers, but they were ignored as his angled upwards and were joined by his other hand in cupping her face.
‘Sometimes it’s nicer parting company the Continental way. I believe the French kiss au revoir...’
Before she could avoid him he’d lowered his head to slide his lips over the cheek she’d hastily presented. She tasted salty from the tears she’d tried to hide from him and lavender scent wafted from her soft warm skin. With thumb and forefinger he turned her sharp little chin so her mouth was available and lightly touched together their lips.
Emma had immediately thrust her hands between them when he took hold of her, but his delicate salute wasn’t painful or disgusting. When Joshua Gresham had forced himself on her he’d rammed his slobbering mouth against hers with such force he’d made her lip bleed.
Lance continued lulling her with a sweet kiss until he sensed a lessening of the tension in her fists jammed against his chest. His mouth swayed against hers with just enough pressure to part her lips and allow his tongue tip to penetrate further, tasting their silky linings.
From the moment he had spoken to her on the terrace, Emma had felt as though a coiled spring was tightening within that might snap and make her do something unwise. It had snapped and she was doing something unwise. But she wasn’t fighting him, as she’d imagined she would. Quite the reverse. It’s just clever seduction on his part, was the alarm call running amok in her feverish mind, but nevertheless she couldn’t stop feeling entranced by the cool movement of his skin on hers. She was still in control, she told herself, even as her back arched, pressing her breasts to chafe on his chest. She could stop this at any time...any time she wanted she could push him away. And he would release her; he wasn’t Joshua Gresham...he’d told her he wouldn’t force her to do anything, and she believed him. He had pride, too...far too much to persist in kissing an unwilling woman.
Her reason still occupied a corner of her mind even as a release of breath sighed from her, leaving her quite enervated. She pushed her hips forward, needing his strength as her
limbs weakened. But it was more of the sweet honeyed pleasure he was bestowing that she really craved. She’d not expected this. Simon had not kissed her with such lazy tenderness, yet she hadn’t minded his rougher loving. He started to unseal their lips, but she followed his mouth, tempting him back with a light touch and this time he wasn’t so restrained in his wooing. He manoeuvred her jaw, using rhythmically stroking fingers so her mouth was open and he could erotically deepen the kiss, plunging his tongue to tease hers. He eased her forward between his spaced feet so her slender hips were snug against the apex of his thighs. Leisurely, he undid her bodice buttons, so slowly that she could have brought it to a halt at any time. He inserted a finger beneath her chemise, running the back of it with tantalising softness against the swell of a breast, nudging a hardening nipple with circular strokes until she whimpered and squirmed against him. One of his hands moved to her buttocks, locking her against the rigid muscle in his groin.
A sound of laughter and muted conversation finally reached Emma through the blood thumping in her ears. Her lashes flicked up and met a narrowed blue gaze. He was watching her...scientifically...as though gauging her reaction to his taming game. With a little gasp, she pushed at him, mortified to have passed his test and failed her own. She took two stumbling backward steps, then swung away, hurrying towards the path.
‘It’s your friend and Jack Valance...they’re still a distance away,’ he soothed, reaching for her again.
She slapped away his hand, giving him a warning glare. He wouldn’t make a fool of her twice, she impressed on herself. He thought he’d shown her what he could do...if he wanted to. Oh, it had been a clever lesson, but she imagined he knew how to act the beast as well...if he wanted to. She swung away from him, intending to walk back alone. But in a couple of long strides he’d caught up with her, slipping her hand on to his arm as he had earlier when in the role of gentleman instead of philanderer.