As Lord Miggs continued to speak, Emma inched toward the door, but the man simply followed her. Then he reached out and took her hand in his.
“My Lord,” she said, surprised her voice was not shaking, “we must discuss our business arrangement.” They had little more to discuss, but it gave her an opportunity to move his mind from whatever roguish plans he might have had. “May we meet sometime next week?”
The carriage came to a stop in front of the office, but the baron did not seem to notice. “We can discuss your concerns now if you would like.” He leaned over her and opened the door. “Let us go into your…nay, our office.”
Emma sighed. “Very well.” She stepped out and shivered, although it was not the cool air that brought on such a response. Having this man at her side made panic well up inside her. As she fumbled with the keys, he reached past her with his own.
“Did you forget that, as your landlord, I had a key, as well?”
The fact this man could have entered her home at any time had never occurred to her, and now she was appalled as she wondered how many times he had done so without her knowledge. She did not put it past him to do such a thing now that she had gotten to know him better.
Once inside, she lit several candles as the rain intensified, the pounding against the window echoing in the room. Behind her, she heard the lock slide into place.
“Now, what is it you wish to discuss,” he asked, removing his coat and hanging it on one of the pegs beside the door.
Emma lit two more candles and turned toward the man. Something inside told her to wait, to delay their conversation. These games, this blackmail, had gone on long enough, and she was the only one who could put a stop to it all. She reached out and touched her father’s desk, and for a moment she saw the smile her father always wore. It was as if he spoke to her, and for a moment, she closed her eyes, remembering one of the last conversations they had shared.
“No matter what happens with the business,” he had said, his voice weak, “you must be happy. Never sacrifice happiness for me, for the business, or for anyone. Do you understand?”
“I will not,” she had promised, and now she understood that something far more valuable than the business existed: her happiness.
She opened her eyes, the old strength she had known before returning. It had not been her father’s mission in life for Emma to run this business. No, the man only wished for her to be happy. If she were destined to live the life of a beggar, then so be it, but she would put a stop to the arrangement she had made with Lord Miggs despite where it landed her.
Emma turned to find the baron staggering toward her, and she took a step back only to press against the desk. If she had thought his grin disconcerting before, it now chilled her to the bone. “My Lord,” she whispered.
“Yes?” he asked as he came to a stop before her.
“Our arrangement,” she stammered as she grasped at the courage that tried to fail her, “I no longer want it.”
The smile the baron wore fell, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “What is this you say?”
“I am sorry, but it is not fair to me.”
“How so?” he demanded.
“It was never my intention to join you in business,” she explained, although speaking every word was like forcing a horse through the smallest of holes. “However, you threatened me, and I felt obliged.”
The rain continued to pound the window, but Emma’s heart seemed to drown the sound as the baron began to undo the buttons on his waistcoat, his eyes burning with lust.
Looking around, Emma wished Stephen was there, or anyone else for that matter.
“So, you wish the ton to learn about your father, do you?” he whispered as he undid another button. “Is that what you want, you ungrateful trollop?”
“No,” she managed to gasp. “I do not want that.” However, as the man threw aside the waistcoat and tugged open his shirt, anger replaced her fear. How dare he treat her in this manner! “I wish only to be treated with respect!” she shouted. “However, if you choose to tell anyone about my father, I cannot stop you. Regardless, our agreement is over!”
Her breathing was heavy as Lord Miggs reached out and grabbed hold of her shoulders. He looked angrier than she had ever seen him before. “You will continue to do business with me,” he said, a sneer on his lips. “Not only that, but you will marry me.”
“Marry you?” Emma asked in shock. “I most certainly will not…” Her words were cut off when he kissed her, his cold lips sending repulsion through her body. She pummeled at his chest with her fists, but she might have been a fly landing on a cow for all he took notice.
When he pulled away, his gaze met hers. “You will learn to love me,” he whispered, and when she went to scream, his lips covered hers once again, and terror like none she had ever felt in her life raged in her as she realized what the man intended for her at that moment.
***
Lucas ran to the stables, his head bent to the strong wind and steady rain. The stable boy rose from his place just inside the door, but Lucas gave him no time to speak a greeting.
“Ready the fastest horse,” he shouted. When he saw the confusion on the boy’s face, he added, “Now!”
The boy’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, Yer Grace,” he said before turning and running into the stables.
“Will your carriage not be needed, Your Grace?” Walburg asked as he rushed to Lucas’s side. His driver knew his job well.
“Yes, I will need it,” Lucas said. “Meet me at the office of Miss Barrington. You remember where it is?” It was a silly question, for the man had been there numerous times to collect Emma, but Lucas asked despite this fact.
“Yes, Your Grace. I do.”
“Good. Leave now and wait for me there.”
The man bowed and hurried away just as the stable boy walked out with a large chestnut thoroughbred with large flank muscles.
“This one belongs to Lord Chambers,” the boy said. “It’d be the fastest steed here. But Lord Chambers is gonna be awful mad!”
Lucas took the reins from the boy, placed a foot in the stirrup, and mounted the horse with ease. “Tell him the Duke of Storms has need of it,” Lucas said as he flicked the reins and pressed his heels into the animal’s side. The horse reared as a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, the booming thunder deafening, and Lucas ducked forward to keep himself from being flung from the back of the animal. However, as an expert horseman, he took little time to get the horse back under control before urging it forward. With each hoof-beat, the rain increased and the wind grew stronger. Lucas clung to the animal with all he had, his head bent over the horse’s neck as he dug his heels into its flanks.
Although the words Ingrid had shared had been few, he had already pieced together what must have happened with Emma and Lord Miggs. The baron was not one known for his integrity, and if Lucas had kept his mind clear, he would have seen what the man had planned. The baron had clearly seen the predicament Emma was in and became greedy. When he learned that Emma had been lying to her clients, or rather the clients of her father, about where Mr. Barrington had gone, he used that as a means to blackmail Emma. This allowed Lord Miggs the opportunity to take over the business. The situation also explained why Emma had chosen to go to dinner with the baron rather than appearing at Bonehedge Estate. It was why she wore a dress that could have only been purchased with money given to her by Lord Miggs.
However, why had she not told Lucas what was happening?
The answer to that question was a simple one; Lucas had lost his temper with the woman, something he had sworn never to do again. Yet, in that broken promise, he had sent Emma down a path of suffering, and therefore, he was partly to blame for the decisions she had made.
Lucas urged the horse to move faster despite the danger of riding in the near darkness that surrounded him. If it had been even an hour later, it would have been too dark to travel, let alone to travel at the speed at which he rode now.
Wa
ter streamed into his boots, and his clothes clung to his body, for he had not taken time to throw a cloak over his shoulders or place a hat on his head. His coat was not much protection against the deluge that fell upon him, and he had to wipe water from his eyes time and again in order to clear his vision. In his heart, he cared nothing for his own comfort, for no man or beast—or weather for that matter—would prevent him from telling Emma what was on his heart.
Fields rushed by, and soon he entered the village of Rumsbury. There, he yelled to urge the horse to move even faster. Soon, the office came into sight, the carriage in front of it sending a jolt of worry into his mind. A soft glow of candlelight wafted from the window, but he could see nothing inside as he brought the horse to a halt beside the carriage he recognized as one belonging to Lord Miggs.
So, the man is here with her? Lucas thought. Well, he will get a taste of the ire of the Duke of Storms!
Throwing the reins over a nearby post, Lucas jumped from the horse and peered through the window. If he had been angry before, he was now furious, for what he saw made his blood boil. Emma stood, her eyes wide with terror. Then she screamed as the baron pressed against her, forcing her against the desk as her scream was cut off by his mouth covering hers.
In that moment, the wind surged and lightning illuminated everything around Lucas. The words Emma spoke to him weeks before entered his mind, and they could not have been truer than they were at this very moment.
“The anger that resides inside you?” she asked. “Do you know its cause?”
He sighed. “I do. However, whenever it comes to mind, it makes my anger increase tenfold. I would say it is a curse. Would you agree?”
“If you allow it to control you, then yes, I could name it as such. However, it can also be a blessing.”
“A blessing?” he asked, chuckling. “How could what makes me angry be a blessing?”
“It is a spark,” Emma explained, “that could be used for good.”
That spark ignited something deep inside him, and finding the door locked, he raised his foot and thrust it forward.
***
Emma could not stop the deluge of tears that ran down her cheeks as she stared at the man leering down at her. She wanted to spit out the taste of the man’s mouth upon hers, but the thought of angering him further terrified her. With his body pressed against her, she could not have moved let alone gotten away to safety. Furthermore, he was a baron; how far would she be forced to go to be safe from this man?
“Now, let us go to your room,” he said in a husky voice. “I am sure your bed is as good as any for what I would like to do with you.”
The roar of what sounded much like a crazed animal made the baron pause, but the crash of splintering wood made them both jump, and Emma looked toward the door just as a flash of lightning highlighted the silhouette of a man where the door had once been.
“What the…?” Lord Miggs pulled away from Emma and spun toward the door. “Your Grace?”
The baron had just enough time to address Lucas before Lucas grabbed the man by his coat and slammed his fist into Lord Migg’s stomach. The baron had no time to react to that strike when his jaw cracked from a second.
Lucas pulled the baron until his face was inches from that of Lucas. “How dare you!” he said through clenched teeth. “You mean to hurt her?”
“Never!” the baron managed to gasp. “I-I am sorry.”
Lucas pulled his arm back, ready to strike the man again, but Emma rushed over. “No, Lucas,” she begged. “No more. I am safe now.”
The duke seemed to hesitate, but then Lord Miggs began to weep.
Emma had no pity for the man who had attacked her, but she also did not wish to see Lucas lose all he had accomplished over the past few weeks. In her estimation, he had worked too hard to return to the man he had been because of her. “Calm the storm,” she whispered.
Lucas blinked and then lowered his fist to his side, although he continued to hold the baron by his coat. “What you have done to this woman is abhorrent,” Lucas seethed. “How dare you blackmail her and attempt to take over her business? But to assault her? That goes beyond reprehensible. You are lower than the vermin that dine on scraps in the road.”
“I am sorry!” the baron cried. “I beg your forgiveness. I will make this right. What price must I pay? Name it! Anything, and I will pay!”
Lucas turned toward Emma. “What do you think?”
“I do not know,” she said, her heart still beating so strongly against her chest she worried it would burst from her breast at any moment. She was not thinking clearly enough to make any decisions at the moment. “You decide.”
Lucas pushed the baron away as he released his grip. “You will return home this evening and gather a week’s worth of clothing and nothing more. I will come to your estate tomorrow morning. If you are still there, or if I hear a rumor of you being near Rumsbury, you will find your debt to be more than your home.”
Lord Miggs’ eyes grew wide with surprise, and Lucas leaned forward, his nose within inches of the baron’s.
“Do not doubt my ability to call down lightning upon you,” he whispered just as a flash lit up the street.
“It is true!” the baron screeched as he ran from the office. “He does control the weather! May God save us all!” Then he jumped into the waiting carriage and was soon gone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Emma stared in silence as the carriage carrying the baron moved down the street. When she returned her gaze to Lucas, she was shocked to see water dripping from his clothing. He had no hat or overcoat, and by the flickering light of the candle, if she did not know him, she would not have recognized him as a member of the ton.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his face filled with concern.
“Yes,” she replied. Then the reality of what had happened came crashing down around her, and she shook her head at the recent memory. “He tried…he is a disgusting man!” Lord Miggs might as well have struck her in the stomach with the amount of pain Emma felt. Soon, she was trembling in the arms of Lucas as she sobbed into his chest. What would have happened if Lucas had not arrived when he did? Just the thought of what might have been made her weep all the harder.
“Shh,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “It is over now. No one will ever hurt you again.”
When the tears receded, she pulled away from his embrace and looked up at him. “How…how did you know to come here?” she asked. “And why are you here?”
“I wanted to speak to you again. When I learned you had left the party, I…” His words trailed off, and he looked at the ground, the shame on his face clear. “I regretted how I spoke to you. I knew something was not right, but I ignored my instincts. If it had not been for Ingrid coming to me because of what Lord Tritant had heard…”
“What did he hear?”
“That the baron has been blackmailing you,” Lucas replied. “The man admitted it outright. Then Lord Tritant told Ingrid, who came to me right away.” He looked down at her. “That plus the concerns I already had solidified my suspicions that things were not as they seemed.”
Emma sighed. “It is true. I should have told you, but I feared you would think I was taking advantage of you. When it came to the point I knew I had to tell you, I was unable to.”
“You could never take advantage of me,” he whispered as he moved a lock of hair that had fallen loose from her coiffure. “The fault lies with me. A man does not lose his temper and shout at someone for whom he cares.” He took her hands in his and shook his head in wonder. “You have taught me so much in such a short time. The truth is, I need you in my life. I am sorry for everything.”
She brushed away a stray tear. “I need you, as well,” she said with a small smile. “I found myself not only caring for you very deeply, but I also realize it is something stronger and even more special.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “Oh? And what is that?”
“I learned that I l
ove you.”
Then Lucas leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Unlike the harshness of Lord Miggs, this kiss was as soft and beautiful as she had imagined it to be.
When the kiss ended, Lucas smiled. “I love you as well,” he said. Did he sound as breathless as Emma felt? “Never again will I lash out at you in anger. I will listen and learn.”
Emma heaved a sigh of relief. “I am glad, for your anger is much like the whip of a flogger,” she teased.
He gave her a mock gasp of shock. Then he softened his features. “Then I promise I will speak openly to you rather than waiting to build any anger I might have.”
“That is a good start,” she replied with a smile. Then she looked at his dripping clothes. “I have some of Father’s clothes upstairs. If you do not mind wearing clothing that was not made by your tailor, that is.”
“I would not mind if it means I will be dry,” he said with a light shiver. “I will build a fire.”
She went upstairs and found several articles of clothing for him. In the office, she could hear him placing logs in the fireplace and the flick of the flint and steel. Soon, the slight smell of smoke wafted in the air.
Once Lucas had changed—she giggled when he went upstairs to do so—she poured them each a cup of tea. When he returned, they each placed a chair in front of the now roaring fire.
They sat in silence for some time, each in his or her own thoughts as they stared into the dancing flames. Lucas’s hair still shone with dampness, but he had removed the wet ribbon and now his locks lay on his shoulders. Emma thought she had never seen such a handsome man in her life and doubted she ever would again.
“So, tell me about your father,” Emma said in an attempt to break the silence.
Lucas snorted. “My father,” he repeated. “Well, he was a man who taught me all I know, including my propensity for anger…”
As Emma listened, she filed away each piece of information, for she knew that the more information she had, the more she could help him ease the anger that still simmered inside. A simple promise would not keep him from erupting, but over time, he would learn to put that energy to better use. Anger had its place—she had learned as much in the past week. However, misplaced anger only caused hurt rather than helped. And she would do what she could to help him reach that potential.
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