Always True to Her (Emerson Book 2)

by Maureen Driscoll

  “On the contrary. I cannot allow you to be thinking of Clayton’s abysmal efforts…”

  “I did not say they were abysmal. I said disappointing.”

  “They were abysmal, I am certain of it.”

  She was leaning into him and her tongue nervously darted out to wet her lips. The movement caught his attention, making him look even more determined, though he hadn’t looked at all lackadaisical in his mission up to that point. But instead of bringing her lips to his, he kissed first one eyelid and then the other.

  It was the most exquisite sensation Irene had ever felt, sending shivers racing through her. “Is that allowed?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes.” He trailed kisses down her cheeks, alternating one side with the other. Finally, he reached her lips.

  Her breathing was shallow. She was rather surprised to realize his was, too.

  He pressed his lips to hers, firmly, but gently. Once, twice, then he licked the seam until she opened.

  He took advantage of her surprise to explore her mouth. To touch his tongue to hers. She’d never known anything like it. She was overwhelmed by feeling, unsure how to proceed but not wanting it to stop.

  She tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder first with one hand and then the other. She could feel his surprise in the way he stiffened for an instant before pulling her closer to him. She was afraid he would break the kiss. But, mercifully, he only deepened it.

  She settled in to enjoy it.

  *

  James couldn’t believe the sensations that raced through his body with such a simple touch. But then nothing about this kiss was simple or ordinary. It was as if everything was new again. As if this kiss was an example to him instead of to her.

  He’d hated the idea of Clayton kissing her. If he had to be honest, he hated the idea of anyone kissing her. But what had started out as a rather immature attempt to prove himself the better kisser turned into a quest to show her something greater.

  This wasn’t just a kiss. It was what home truly was. It was the one soul made for you, whom you’d found at last.

  And the truth of that was a shock to his system.

  He pulled back. It wasn’t an abrupt movement. In fact, his body was ignoring the commands the rational part of his brain was giving his limbs. He inched back, slowly but surely, until they broke the kiss. Then they broke all contact, save for his knees pressed against her thighs and her hands in his.

  He looked at Irene, then wished he hadn’t. She was dazed, lost to passion. He could only imagine how she’d look when he made her climax.

  Which would never happen, of course. Because he was going to America and she was The Honorable Miss Irene Wallace.

  He relinquished her hands, then sat back and watched her though heavy lidded eyes. He could tell the moment she came fully back to her senses.

  “Yes, well,” she said. “That was, that was…”

  “Better than Clayton?”

  “I should say so!” The satisfaction on his face must have shown, for she quickly added. “Though I do not think the bar was set all that high to begin with. But, yes, when presented with the evidence, I would say that was the best kiss I have ever received out of the two I have experienced. Now I think it would be best if we never spoke of this again. And, like Anna, I believe I will get some sleep.”

  “If you can,” said James.

  “I am quite certain of it,” she said as she put on her bonnet and tied it, only to realize it was on backwards. She removed it. “I do not believe I will need this.”

  “I do not believe you have the wits to tie it right now.”

  “I am ignoring you, Lord James.”

  “You can try.” Then he chuckled at her grunt of disgust.

  “Are you going to return to your side of the carriage?”

  “Why should it matter if you ignore me?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, then turned away and rested her head against the side of the carriage.

  He thought it best if he did not laugh out loud at her discomposure. Especially since his body was strumming with passion that would sadly go unquenched. With Anna asleep and Irene pretending to be so, he settled in to see if he could get some rest.

  But that would require him to stop thinking of that life-altering kiss. And he knew that would never happen.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Thoughts of that incredible kiss had kept Irene awake, though she spent the hour until they stopped for luncheon pretending to sleep. James, rather insultingly, had been able to sleep quite soundly. Anna had slept the entire time and even now that the carriage had stopped, it was difficult to awaken her.

  “Anna,” said Irene, as she gently shook the girl. “It’s time to eat.”

  The little girl was finding it hard to open her eyes. She tried to sit up, but lay back down again. “Can I sleep here while you and Papa eat?”

  “I’m sorry, love,” said her father. “But you would grow too cold out here. Please come in and eat something for us.” He studied her for a moment. “Do you feel well?”

  “Yes,” said Anna, as she rubbed her eyes.

  Irene buttoned Anna’s coat and wrapped a scarf around her. “Are you sure you’re feeling well, poppet?”

  Anna smiled and nodded, doing the best she could to awaken.

  James stepped out of the carriage and reached for Irene’s hand. She hesitated giving it to him, thinking it might be preferable to risk falling flat on her bottom, rather than touch his hand. Perhaps sensing her cowardice, he raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to come out of the carriage.

  Irene sniffed and held out her hand to him. When he grasped her fingers, she actually had to stifle a gasp. The feeling that arced between them was all the more intense after their kiss. Once she was safely on the ground, she tried to take her hand back. But he held onto her.

  “Is there a problem, Miss Wallace?” he asked rather smugly.

  “Have you kidnapped my hand, my lord?”

  “If you have to ask, the answer is no. I promise you would know if I had designs on your hand, or any other part of you.” With that, he reached in to get Anna. But instead of putting her down, he placed her on his left hip, then held out his right arm to Irene. She hesitated, but took it, then accompanied him into the small inn’s dining area.

  The inn was relatively clean, though Irene had learned through the years that too close of an examination of even the tidiest establishment could put you off your food for a good day or so. And she was quite hungry, so she was glad to see no noticeable signs of filth. Instead, she turned her mind to other matters.

  Like Anna. The barman had shown them to a quiet table in the corner of the tap. James had begun the long process of unwrapping scarves, untying her bonnet and taking off her coat. He put his hand on her forehead and frowned just the slightest.

  “Are you certain you feel well, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, Papa.” The little girl looked almost nervous in her response, as if she didn’t want to displease him with her answer.

  “Irene, does she feel warm to you?”

  Irene put the back of her hand against Anna’s forehead. “She feels a little warm, but she has been wearing a multitude of scarves.” She smiled at Anna, who smiled back at her. “Can you eat something for your papa?”

  Anna nodded.

  “Excellent,” said Irene, who squeezed her hand.

  The barman took their order, then Irene sat next to Anna.

  James watched his daughter for a moment before turning to Irene. “How are you enjoying your life as a meek and biddable servant? I daresay it is quite an unfamiliar feeling.”

  “I can say that I very much enjoy my charge. She is a delightful girl and a pleasure to be around.”

  “And your master?”

  “Dreadful man. I cannot see how I abide him.”

  “Perhaps you stay for the kisses,” he muttered under his breath.

  “That is quite enough of that, my lord!” Irene said, darting a look at Anna
. But she was paying them little mind. Perhaps she was simply unwell from the motion of the carriage and would feel better when she’d eaten. “What kind of a man is this Mr. Adams?” Irene asked James. “Besides someone who gets thrown in gaol within days of ending a sea voyage of several weeks.”

  “I didn’t know him well, but he was a local notary. He witnessed my agreement with Cedric.”

  “So you did not trust my brother,” said Irene. “It is a wonder, then, that you would leave your land in his care.”

  “It is not that I didn’t trust Cedric. It was that I wanted the agreement witnessed so others knew he was acting on my behalf. The frontier tends to change on a daily basis. I only planned to be gone for a few weeks, but I did not know what could come up in my absence. If he did need to act on my behalf, I wanted him to have clear authority to do so.”

  “Perhaps he was doing just that when he went into business with the mining company.”

  James shook his head. “He knew very well that I planned to farm the land. I would never have sold it to anyone, especially a mining company.” After a moment he added, “I was surprised that Cedric would want to go into business with them, as well. I had the impression that he saw his time in America as more of an extended holiday than as actually a means of earning a living.”

  Irene had to admit that would have been her assumption, as well. Her brother did tend to drift from one scheme to another. He saw life as a lark, content in his station and never being motivated to make anything of himself. He’d often told her he was simply biding his time until he inherited the title.

  The title. She thought again of how ill her father had become in such a short time. She had to find a solution to this situation. “Mayhap the mining company threatened Cedric. Perhaps they forced him to sign.”

  James looked at her with a great deal of skepticism. “Perhaps.”

  “But you do not believe it.”

  “It is certainly not beyond the pale that such a thing could happen. But Cedric did not appear to be coerced when I spoke to him and demanded to know what he’d done.”

  “Perhaps you should not have demanded,” said Irene.

  “Yes. I am certain that passively handing over the land that was Anna’s birthright would have been the correct course of action. Forgive me for being so obtuse, Miss Wallace. In fact…”

  Irene stopped listening to James because she was studying Anna, who was sitting back with her head against the wall and her eyes closed. Her color seemed to be heightened. Irene wondered whether the girl was catching a cold. She felt Anna’s forehead again. Now she definitely seemed warm.

  “What is it?” asked James.

  “Perhaps nothing. I thought at first she had a touch of motion sickness.”

  “She did have a rough time of it on the ship.”

  “I believe we should take a room for an hour. Let her get some sleep on solid ground. Perhaps when she awakens she’ll feel better.” She felt Anna’s forehead again. This time James came to Anna’s side and felt it, too.

  The result made him frown. “Let’s get the room,” said James, as he motioned to a woman who appeared to be one of the innkeepers.

  Irene watched Anna, worriedly. She hadn’t known Anna long, but she was already familiar with the sweet girl’s patterns. While she was often quiet, she was never listless as she was now. She was usually observant of everything about her.

  The innkeeper reached them. She was a tall, thin woman with steel grey hair and a frown that seemed permanently engraved on her face.

  “We would like a room for my daughter,” said James. “Just for an hour or so, Mrs….?”

  “Simmons,” said the woman, who was frowning at them in earnest now. She was staring at Anna. “She’s foreign! I didn’t see that at first, with all the scarves about her. I can see why you wanted to keep her covered.”

  Irene gasped at the rude comment and glanced at Anna. Thankfully, it didn’t appear like she’d heard. James, however, had taken in every syllable. She could feel his tension. Irene knew the only reason Mrs. Simmons hadn’t just been given a set-down that would blow the cap off her head was because James very much wanted the room.

  “I don’t know if we even have one available,” said Mrs. Simmons, who was no doubt trying to discern how much money James had to spend on one. She kept looking between James’s rough clothes and Irene’s elegant gown, growing more confused by the moment.

  Irene realized that perhaps she hadn’t done as good of a job dressing as a servant as she’d thought. “Anything you could do would be most appreciated,” she said.

  As Mrs. Simmons went to check the register – and figure out a price – Irene turned to James as she rubbed Anna’s back. “I am as appalled by her attitude as you and suspect we have not yet seen or heard the worst. But I ask you to ignore the wretched woman for Anna’s sake. She needs the rest.”

  “I know,” he growled. “But I wish for all the world we were not here. Yet, I doubt we shall find another inn for another two hours. And I fear she does need proper rest.” Anna had fallen asleep at the table and was now leaning against Irene.

  Irene paused, not knowing how to broach the next topic. “Mrs. Simmons will likely charge an exorbitant rate for the room.”

  He winced. “I realize that. But even if I spend the rest of my coins, we must stay.”

  Irene took a deep breath for she knew he wasn’t going to like her suggestion. “I would like to pay for the room,” she said.

  “Out of the question.”

  “Hear me out, sir. It is just as much in my best interest as in yours to learn the truth of what transpired in America. There is no reason why I should not be paying my own way.”

  “This is for my daughter.”

  “Yes. And it is an expense that could not have been predicted. If, as you say, my brother has wronged you, has….stolen from you, then it is only right that I should pay.”

  “It is your brother I have a problem with, not you.”

  “Please, James. My purse is well able to afford this and I have a feeling Mrs. Simmons will come back with an outrageous rent.”

  “A gentleman does not allow a lady to pay.”

  “Then stop being a gentleman,” she said, before quickly adding, “I only mean that in this limited sense. I would prefer that you continue to be a gentleman in all other ways for the rest of the journey. Think of this as a loan, if you must. You can pay me back later with interest at an amount that would make a Seven Dials money lender blush. But right now the only thing we need to concern ourselves with is getting Anna to bed.”

  Mrs. Simmons returned, with her husband in tow. He was as round as his wife was reed thin. Mr. Simmons studied them. “You two don’t look foreign,” he said. “What’s wrong with the child? She’s not sick, is she? Don’t want no foreign diseases here. We keep a clean inn, the missus and me.”

  “She is simply tired from the journey,” said Irene. She could feel the heat emanating from Anna and Irene was beginning to fear there was something more going on than simple motion sickness.

  “And just who are you, anyway?” asked Mrs. Simmons.

  “She is my wife,” rumbled a deep voice that had finally had enough. “I am Lord James Emerson, brother to the Earl of Ridgeway. And this is my wife, Lady Irene. And you will see us to our room now, unless you want to feel the wrath of one of the most fearsome peers in England.”

  *

  James wasn’t sure whose reaction he was enjoying more. The Simmons’, who were as cowed by his statement as he’d intended, or Irene’s, whose mouth was agape with, well, he wasn’t sure what emotion was racing through her head. But he had a feeling it was not good cheer or approval. He had no doubt she wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of his presumption. But he’d had no choice.

  If they both entered the bedchamber together – and he wanted to see for himself if Anna was merely tired – Irene would be ruined. It would not matter if it were only for an hour and in the company of his daughter. If
the innkeeper and his wife chose to gossip about their odd guests and their “foreign” child, word could get back to London. So, it was best to give them the illusion that Irene was his wife and Anna their daughter.

  He was reasonably certain Irene would have no qualms about being seen as Anna’s mother. She was obviously quite fond of his daughter. However, he suspected she might take exception to the other portion of the equation.

  Well, there was nothing for it now but to continue.

  Mrs. Simmons was clearly torn. She wasn’t sure whether to believe his connection to Ridgeway, but didn’t want to risk an earl’s wrath, either. In the end, she chose to believe his story, probably because she suspected there would be more coin in the end if James was telling the truth. She grudgingly said, “I suppose we can allow a foreign child in here the once. Why is it you have her, anyway?”

  Irene turned a glacial stare on the woman. It was as cutting as any James had ever seen and would do her grandmother proud, though the old harridan would likely side with the innkeepers in this case. Irene pulled Anna even closer to her as she replied. “She is God’s gift and loved very much. Now take us to the room. We would like to rest.”

  Mrs. Simmons looked none too happy, but did as she was bade. Without another word, she marched through the tap, then up the stairs to a small room at the very back of the inn. “Don’t be asking for a better bedchamber. This is the only one that’s vacant. It don’t matter whose brother you are, this is all we got. So make use of it. Or don’t. Price is the same.”

  The room was small but clean. There was a bed that might accommodate two, a washstand in the corner and two wooden chairs, one of which might not collapse under James if he sat on it. The fireplace was cold, but there was a small stack of wood and kindling.

  It would do for an hour or two.

  James gently laid Anna on the bed. She was definitely warm and he was growing more worried by the moment. Anna had barely stirred as he’d carried her. That wasn’t like her at all.

  Mrs. Simmons craned her neck to get a good look at her. “Are you sure she ain’t sick?”

  “She is simply tired from the journey,” said James, trying to hide his anxiety that something was truly wrong with Anna. He’d never seen her like this. Even when she’d been sick on the ship, she’d never been this listless, had never seemed this warm.