by Mary Brendan
‘You may tell him to stop,’ she said hoarsely. ‘I know where I am. I won’t walk. I’ll hail a cab. I must go back and tend my father. He’s been very unwell.’
‘What ails him?’
‘A leg ulcer, and the more he frets over his son, the slower his recovery. The news you have given me will greatly reassure him, though.’ She gave him a fleeting smile before turning back to the night. ‘Will you just stop on the corner, please?’
‘Give me the letter, Emma.’
She shot him a rebellious look. ‘You needn’t fear that I will rip it up and renege on our deal now you have already started to keep your side of the bargain.’ How confident he must have been that she would succumb to have put things in motion!
‘Would you get away with crossing me, do you think?’
‘Don’t mock me,’ she said sharply. ‘I know this is a piffling affair for you. You can buy back Augusta’s old life in a flash. The problems we have are very different.’
‘I wasn’t mocking you, Emma, but myself.’
What was he upset about? Wasting time when it could be better spent elsewhere? She slipped unobtrusive sideways glances at him. He looked immaculately attired as though off out for the evening. Had he been on his way to visit Jenny when he happened upon her? Perhaps a delay in meeting his mistress was making him irritable. Emma believed he was genuinely concerned to find her walking the streets at such an hour. ‘Were you heading somewhere important when you spotted me?’ she asked casually.
‘Yes... I was coming to see you and your father,’ he returned drily.
That came as a surprise. ‘Why? To tell us about Robin going to Yorkshire?’
‘Among other things.’
‘What other things?’ Emma sat forward, searching his face, one profile of which was being dappled to shades of gold by the swinging coach lamp. ‘Is there more I don’t yet know?’
‘There are things I’d like to know. One of them concerns the duel that started this confounded mess. Earlier your brother told me something odd: that Simon Gresham’s death was unexpected since he only sustained a minor injury.’
‘I was told the same thing.’ Emma sighed. ‘Simon’s wound was light, but we heard an infection set in. It was a dreadful shock when he passed away so quickly...’ She tailed off into silence.
‘Does talking about it still upset you?’
‘It was a long time ago,’ she murmured. ‘But something like that is impossible to forget.’ She quickly changed the subject. ‘Joshua must have been sniffing around Milligan’s, asking questions, and that’s how Robin found out he’d been unmasked and needed to bolt.’
‘He didn’t know. I told him.’
‘How did you find out?’ Emma demanded.
‘Gresham came to see me.’
Emma blinked in shock. ‘Why did he do that?’
‘He wanted me to cancel his gambling debts to me in return for keeping quiet about Augusta’s involvement.’
‘The villain! He tried to blackmail you? How dare he!’ Emma was outraged on the Earl’s behalf.
Lance chuckled, disarmed by her spontaneous championship.
‘You didn’t agree to it, did you?’ Emma sounded as though she might call him a fool if he admitted as much.
‘No... I did not,’ he confirmed gently. ‘But I greatly appreciate your concern.’
Emma blushed beneath the heat in his glittering eyes. ‘The vile pig shouldn’t get away with such behaviour. He might still carry out his threat from spite, though,’ she warned.
Lance inclined towards her, taking her hands in his. ‘Forget about him, Emma. I told you before he’s of no consequence and easily dealt with.’ He paused. ‘Your brother didn’t have a clue that he’d been betrayed. How did that happen?’
Emma frowned. ‘My father confided in his closest friend and Joshua somehow or other managed to trick the secret out of Mr Sanders.’ She turned things over in her mind. ‘Joshua must have been banking on you punishing Robin and dragging Augusta home rather than helping the couple.’
‘Exactly right,’ Lance said. ‘He was confident I’d thank him and pay him.’
‘But you did not.’ She gave a contented smile and unconsciously pressed his fingers affectionately.
Lance raised one of her small hands to his lips, rewarding her for that first tenderness. ‘Well... I did...but not in a way he liked, or expected.’ He recalled his satisfaction on laying Gresham out on the floor.
‘What did you do?’ Emma’s eyes widened in anticipation. ‘Did you fight with him?’
‘Not exactly...’ he replied with studied disappointment. ‘He went down with one punch.’
Emma again tightened her fingers on his, pleased at the idea of the swine getting the ending he deserved. Her happiness soon faded. ‘But he can still cause such terrible trouble.’
‘He won’t ever hurt you, Emma, I swear.’
‘Luckily, I managed to intercept a letter meant for my papa. I guessed Joshua’s aim in sending it was to taunt my father with threats so I opened it. I know I should not have, but once I’d read it, I was glad I had kept it from him. Papa must never see it.’
‘What did it say?’
Emma couldn’t tell him. Instead, she wriggled her fingers free of his, then plunged a hand into her pocket. She held out the crumpled paper she’d retrieved from the floor so her father wouldn’t find it.
Lance angled the note towards the coach light. While reading it his mouth became thinner and a muscle leapt in his jaw. He looked up at her with a tender expression. ‘It was wise of you to have kept it from your father, but I wish you hadn’t been bothered by it either.’ He folded the letter. ‘If you will allow me to keep it, I’ll make sure that Gresham gets it back.’
Emma nodded her agreement. She’d sooner the hateful thing was out of the house.
A silence settled on them and Emma wondered if he was brooding on what he’d just read or whether something else occupied him.
‘Will you come in and speak to my father tonight about those other matters interesting you? He will want to thank you for what you have done for Robin.’
‘No...another time. You say he is fast asleep and I won’t wake him.’
‘I am very grateful to you, sir, for what you’ve done for my family.’
‘I know you are.’
He sounded distant, a touch frustrated even, and she wondered what she had done wrong. A short while ago they had seemed wonderfully harmonious. She’d told him weeks ago about Joshua having designs on her and that she hated the fiend. She was sure he wasn’t annoyed at the idea of having a possible rival. ‘I didn’t mean what I said before about the gun...it really was a joke.’
‘I know.’
‘What, then...?’ Her whispered request for him to explain his mood tailed off.
‘What if we forget for a moment about the past and our relations, and talk about what happens now, between us.’
After a strained silence she asked, ‘What is there to say about it?’
‘If you let me have the letter you’ve written to me, or tell me what’s in it, that might start a conversation.’
She tore her eyes from his to study the silver crescent peeping from behind stringy clouds. Oh, why couldn’t they go back to clasping hands and laughing together? For a blissful interlude they’d become friends...confidants...a team battling the ills besetting them.
‘It says that you have won, my lord, as you well know.’ She had managed to sound composed despite the lump in her throat.
‘Won what? An unwilling woman? It’s not what I want or need.’
Emma felt bewildered by that. She’d imagined her submission would please him. ‘What do you want, then, if not my consent?’
‘You know what I want... I’ve shown you.’
‘I’m not a child, I know there’s more to i
t than clever kisses,’ she scoffed. ‘I won’t swoon from plain speaking about our bargain. You want and need me to go with you to a house of your choosing where I will undress and lay with you in return for your money. My letter says that I will do that.’
‘If that was all I wanted, I would visit Haymarket and choose a girl.’
‘I’m sure Jenny would be disappointed to know it,’ she sniped to the night sky.
‘Are you jealous of her, Emma?’ he asked softly.
‘No...nor of any of your other women,’ she flung at him hoarsely while mesmerised by a solitary twinkling star.
‘Do you want to know more about my past life?’
She whipped her face around to look at him. ‘I will never want to hear one word about it!’ She was aware he was amused by her vehemence and it made her innards feel as though they were being twisted into knots. ‘If you have changed your mind about things, my lord, just say so. It won’t surprise me to know your eye has roamed elsewhere.’
‘Would that it had...’ he muttered.
Why couldn’t she feel a glimmer of relief that he wanted to bring things to an end? Fine clothes and jewels...whatever she desired...it wasn’t a future she’d coveted. She’d never dreamed that this was how her life might be. Gently reared, indeed she was, but she’d expected to have a normal life in a modest house with a decent man who loved her and their children. That was what she’d once longed for. And before she’d turned twenty she’d damaged the likelihood of it.
Drawing an aristocrat’s attention had never entered her head. Yet due to an accident of fate she’d met an earl and aroused his lust. Now she felt peculiarly bereft that it might be over between them before it had properly started. And it wasn’t just because he would go and take with him the help Robin still needed...it was because of her...what she wanted and needed. From the moment they had met she’d striven to keep Lance Harley at bay and now that he was choosing to walk away she no longer wanted him to. She didn’t want to lose him.
Everything between them so far had been shadowed by her family and its problems. She had preferred it that way because she hadn’t wanted to examine the reality of an emotional involvement with him. She hadn’t the sophistication to separate her heart from her body and had known all along that pain would ensue from temporary intimacy with a man she had feelings for. But perhaps it would have been worth bearing that pain...perhaps she should now swallow her pride and try to woo him. She was aware he’d been watching her...could feel the weight of his stare on her as she fought to make sense of mores that were foreign to her. Would she manage to harden herself and act in a way that he expected of his mistresses?
‘I have no experience in these things, but I accept it is my role to learn how to please you and never to question you, and I will try...’ She fell silent and shrank into the seat the moment she heard a string of oaths flow from beneath his breath. He suddenly cradled her hands in the breadth of his, making her jump.
‘What I want and need, Emma, is for you to admit there is a strong attraction between us and making love is something we both desire,’ Lance differed gently. ‘I want to know you feel something for me besides duty and gratitude. Do you?’
Was she about to act the hypocrite and deny she craved his kisses and caresses? She had tossed restlessly beneath his phantom touch through the long nights. But once known as his paramour—and the gossip would spread however discreet their meetings—she must turn her back for ever on a chance of having somebody to cherish her as a wife. For how long would the Earl of Houndsmere feel that strong attraction for her? Till her looks faded and with them her chance of having children with a husband? Did she want to risk rearing bastards on her own? But most of all...did she want to love him, in and out of bed, knowing that he felt no such deep or enduring emotion for her?
She was too greedy to have it all, she realised, while watching empty streets speeding by and trying to ignore the pressure of his long fingers entwined with hers. She wanted him to be there in the mornings to talk about their children and how they did with their lessons. She wanted him to sit with her at dinner and talk about their families and their friends. That’s what she wanted...but would have none of it. He could have his pick of dukes’ daughters to marry, Mrs Booth had said, and Emma knew it was no exaggeration. When that day came, what would she do? Go gracefully and watch him from the shadows? Plead and weep to be allowed some crumbs of his affection and try not to see despising in his eyes? Had that been Augusta’s mother’s fate?
How could you have allowed yourself to fall in love with him? Emma inwardly wailed, trying to keep torment from shaping her features. She knew he was reading in her face her girlish hopes for her future. He was feeling sorry for her and giving her a way out to pursue her dreams. Perhaps he had a conscience where she was concerned as well as where Augusta was concerned. But she didn’t want his pity, or his charity. And he wouldn’t take the only things she had left: her pride and her self-respect.
She pulled her hands from his and folded them in her lap to still their trembling. ‘Do you expect me to humiliate myself and plead with you not to leave us high and dry? Have you helped Robin escape to impress on me how powerful you are? If it was just a gesture, it was unnecessary. I knew from the start you wouldn’t make empty promises, my lord. And neither do I.’ She pulled the letter from her pocket and tossed it on to the seat beside him. ‘I do feel more for you than just duty and gratitude. I like you kissing and touching me, as you already know very well. So perhaps hearing me say so will soothe your vanity and put your mind at rest that I have the potential to be value for money. But now you have the letter you may tear it up if you wish and go to Haymarket. And that is all I have to say, so please stop this vehicle and set me down.’
He made no attempt to pick up the letter or stop the coach and after a few pulsating seconds Emma leapt to her feet, prepared to thump on the hood and call an instruction herself.
‘He only takes orders from me.’ Lance caught at her arm, tugging her off balance so she fell against him. A lazy hand deflected the blows she aimed at him, then imprisoned her so she lay spreadeagled against a broad, hard-muscled chest.
‘Well, I don’t!’ Emma finally found the breath to burst out. She struggled against him, then became still. Tension flowed from her in a single exhalation; she’d wanted to feel his body moulding to hers since he’d captured her when she’d been running away. Despite her indignation at this rough treatment, traitorous heat was starting to flow in her veins in anticipation of his mouth soon on hers. Her breasts were heaving and every breath she took abraded her taut nipples against his chest.
Obliquely, she was aware that the coach was rocking over ruts, bumping her hips against his in a most erotic manner. And then his mouth swooped to take hers in a savagely sensual kiss while a hand plunged into a mass of silky black hair. Long fingers gripped her scalp, keeping her face hard against his.
Emma struggled in earnest to be free of the strong arms around her and sit upright. Was this a lesson in what to expect if he decided her suitable? There was no sweetness in it, but arousal had stirred immediately to life low in her belly and was defeating her defences. Despite the aggression between them her body had responded instinctively to his touch. Of its own volition her mouth was parting beneath the pressure of his.
The bruising weight of his mouth was lifted from hers. Instead, she felt a soft caress sweep her cheek before it trailed tormentingly slowly to bury behind her ear. The hard grip on her scalp relaxed and his fingers slid to straddle her nape, stroking with slow rhythm against the sensitive skin there.
‘Let me go, I don’t want to...not here...not like this,’ Emma gasped even as her eyes closed and she angled back against the soothing feel of his fingers. ‘You have proved your point.’
Lance’s response was to bring his mouth back to hers. With gentle yet inexorable insistence his lips slid artfully against hers, persuading her to p
art her mouth for him. The stroking thumb continued working its sorcery on her nape, building a lethargy in her. His kiss remained teasingly courteous, tempting her to invite more from him. And she did. Emma kissed him back. Her bunched fists unfurled against his chest, clutched at his jacket for support as they crept to his shoulders and anchored there. Her back arched instinctively as his hands massaged the delicate bones below her thrusting breasts. The vehicle added its weight to her seduction, swaying her body side to side as it negotiated turns in the road. A gasp broke gutturally in her throat and as though it was the signal he had been waiting for he deftly parted her bodice and cupped a breast. She sighed pleasure into his mouth, thrusting towards his hand when his thumb rotated over a rigid nipple.
With a groan, Lance dragged his mouth from hers and lowered his head. He tantalised the rosy nub with tongue and teeth until her squirming was invitation enough and he drew hungrily.
The pulse in Lance’s loins was a nagging agony and, in a reserved part of his mind that was crumbling to desire, he cursed himself for a fool. He’d been desperate to have her tell him she felt something for him and had let his blasted ego take over when she clung to the idea of the passion they shared being one-sided and wrong. But Emma wasn’t like Jenny or Sonia or any other woman. He’d never felt this consuming, aching tenderness for any of them. Emma was the only one he’d ever honestly loved and adored. Was he going to insult her and tumble her quickly in a carriage? Her first time should be wonderful...night-long loving in luxurious surroundings. She deserved to be told of his devotion and deepest respect. She should know he wanted her as his wife and the mother of his children, as well as his lover. And he would say all that to her...once he’d conquered the shock of knowing this was no obsession, no infatuation...he had fallen properly in love. From the start he’d believed that his conscience was bothering him where this beautiful woman was concerned. It hadn’t been his conscience—it had been his heart.
In a few more seconds he knew he’d be lost in her sweetly innocent response to him and there’d be no way back. And how she’d hate him tomorrow!