Lord Hunter (Secrets & Scandals Book 6)

by Tiffany Green

  Lucian took his first real breath in a long time. And when Dempsey disappeared around the curve, he hopped to his feet and helped Emma. “Come, we have to get out of here.”

  “What about Samir?” She shook her head. “I cannot just leave him.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders. “We cannot risk getting caught, Emma.” He tightened his grip. “What would Samir do if he finds us gone?”

  “He doesn’t know about the new coordinates.” Drawing her brows, she continued. “We told him what Sorrington spoke of and finding our room searched, but I forgot to tell him that.”

  “Right. So, where would he go?”

  Emma’s breath caught. “Back to Hartford.” Then her eyes widened. “But what if he was caught following the coach? What if he is in danger?”

  The little minx was cunning. Too cunning. And they had no time to argue. Binks and Dempsey could return at any moment and catch them. His hand tightened on her shoulders. “We do not have time to discuss this. Let us leave now. We can plan how to contact Samir later.”

  When she opened her mouth, he pressed a finger against her lips. “Samir would agree with me, minx. And you know it.”

  Her shoulders drooped. He had her, there. With a nod, she swiveled around and approached Juliet.

  After untying the reins, Lucian hefted Emma on the saddle and hopped up behind her. He leaned forward. “We will find Samir. Even if I have to hire every last investigator in England.”

  Emma glanced over her shoulder, tears glazing her eyes. She lifted a hand and grazed cool fingers against the stubbles on his cheek. “Thank you, Lucian.”

  With a nod, he tapped Juliet in the sides to get her moving.

  After an hour of picking through the forest, Emma spoke. “Those men were looking for you, Lucian.”

  “Yes, I heard them.”

  She placed her hand over his. “But not me. They thought I was in the coach.”

  “That was what we wanted them to think.”

  Emma patted his hand. “Exactly.” She glanced over her shoulder. “My disguise worked. So, I was thinking you should have a disguise, too.”

  Lucian smiled. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right. If men are looking for an earl, perhaps I should become a…” He stopped for a moment to think.

  At Emma’s chuckle, he glanced down. “What is so amusing?”

  “A silly image. If I became a boy, then you can become a girl.” She laughed and shook her head. “You’re pretty enough, although the beard your growing might complicate matters.”

  Lucian raised his hand and felt the whiskers against his palm. He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I think I will remain a man. How about a sailor?”

  Emma’s brows rose. “What do you know about ships?”

  His lips twitched. “A lot, actually. My father was a ship’s captain. Sailed with Admiral Lord Nelson, himself.”

  Her smile grew and she gave a nod. “A sailor, it is. We should find you some clothes. Shouldn’t be difficult so near the sea.”

  Lucian tapped the tip of her nose. “Are you suggesting we steal them, minx?”

  “Of course not. You have coins, don’t you?”

  He nodded and her white teeth flashed in the dimness of the forest. Lucian had to admit, Emma was crafty. No doubt, she learned how to maneuver in the world while hunting for treasure with her father and brother.

  They moved north and Lucian hoped they would find a village soon. His stomach rumbled, demanding food. If they stayed near the coast, they would find what they needed. He glanced up and saw the sky darkening. Soon, they would not have enough light. That meant, sleeping in the forest. With no dinner.

  “Look, there.” Emma lifted her hand and pointed to the right. “A cottage. See the light?”

  Lucian squinted between two thin trunks and could see the tiny speck of yellow light. He nodded. “I see it. You have the eyes of an eagle, Emma.”

  Turning Juliet toward the light, Lucian moved near the small stone building. A thin stream of smoke rose from the chimney and pale lamplight glowed in one of the small windows. Leaving the horse tied to a sturdy limb, he stretched his legs. “What do you think?” he asked.

  Emma pursed her lips, studying the structure for a moment, then gave a nod. “I have a plan.”

  Lucian cut his eyes to her. “What plan?”

  “Give me a shilling.” She held out her palm.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think you should go to a strange cottage alone.”

  She sighed. “They will think I am a harmless boy.” She wiggled her fingers. “The shilling, if you please.”

  With reluctance, Lucian dug into his pocket and pulled out the coin. “Be careful,” he said, pressing the shilling into her palm.

  Emma flashed a smile. “Always,” she said and loped off for the cottage.

  Lucian watched from the distance. If there were any signs of trouble, he would rush to her in a trice. He crossed his arms as Emma took a deep breath, then raised her knuckles.

  The door cracked open. Lucian wished he could hear the conversation. He squinted, trying to make out the short figure on the other side of the door. Was it a man or a woman? He could not tell. Then the door opened wide, spilling out golden light on the ground, and Emma walked inside.

  Damn it to hell, what was she doing?

  Lucian took a step, then stopped. Breathing hard, he leaned against the tree and began counting. If she did not surface from the structure in two minutes, he would charge forth. Earlier if he heard her scream.

  Keeping his eyes on the door, he waited. And counted.

  When the two minutes were up, Lucian straightened from the tree and took a step. The door opened and he jolted to a halt. Emma stepped out, carrying a bundle, and hurried in his direction.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  With a shrug, she pressed the clothes into his arms. “I told her—Mrs. Handley—my brother needed clothes and asked if she had any.”

  “She didn’t ask questions? Just gave you the clothes?”

  Emma grinned and shook her head. “When she saw the shilling, she decided she didn’t need to know.”

  Lucian turned toward Juliet, eyeing the bundle in his arms. “What if they don’t fit?” He slid his gaze to Emma. “I do not have many more shillings.”

  “I would not have taken the clothes if they didn’t look like you could wear them.” She nodded to the bushes. “That is a good place to change.”

  Knowing he had no choice, Lucian took the bundle behind the bushes. Evening shadows cooled the air and he shivered when he shed his expensive clothes. He shook out the well-worn pants and stepped into them. A little loose at the waist, but the wide leather belt kept them secure. Although they bowled out below the knee, his boots would protect the bottom half of his legs. The thin striped shirt, smelling of aged cloth, was long in the sleeves and had a small tear at the right shoulder, but the brown peacoat would hide the imperfection. Something fell to the ground and he found a black neckcloth, a sweat rag, as his father called them, and tied it around his neck.

  He placed the remaining coins and his gold watch within the peacoat’s inner pocket, then stepped from the bushes. “Well? What do you think?”

  Emma’s white teeth flashed in the dimming light. “I think you look like a pirate.”

  He wagged his brows. “A fetching pirate, I hope?”

  Her smile widened. “Quite fetching.”

  Lucian placed his clothes in his bag still tied to Juliet, then turned to Emma. They were hiding from men wishing to do them harm, wearing disguises, looking for her lost brother, and in search of hidden treasure. Never had he felt so alive. He gathered her in his arms and dropped his lips down on hers. And never would he be the same when all this was over.

  How in the hell would he return to his boring life?

  How in the hell would he let Emma go?

  His arms tightened around her, knowing the answer. He wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.


  With effort, Lucian raised his head and watched her open her eyes. Then he spoke words he never again thought would come from his mouth. “Marry me.” Only this time, he did not wish to take them back the second they were said. This time, he meant them.

  Chapter 9

  A jolt went through Emma. Marry? She pulled away. “Are you mad?” she hissed and turned to the horse.

  Lucian stepped to her side. She could feel his warmth as he stared at her. “I’m serious.”

  Emma pressed her forehead against Juliet’s hindquarter. The smell of dusty horseflesh filled her nose. “I cannot marry you,” she said.

  His hands cupped her arms and turned her around to face him. In the waning light, half of Lucian’s face was cast in shadow. His brows drew together. “Why not?”

  “I told you before.” She studied the dark stubble on his chin. “I will never be under a man’s rule.”

  Fingers grazed her cheek and she closed her eyes. “What makes you think you would be under my rule?”

  She pulled away, and he let her go. Turning to the west, she studied the vibrant orange streaks, mingled with gold and pink. “There will come a time when I would want to do something you deemed inappropriate. Or go somewhere you thought too dangerous.” Drawing in a shuddering breath, she continued. “I cannot lose my freedom.”

  “What makes you think I would take away your freedom?”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s what husbands do, Lucian.”

  He stepped to her but did not touch her. “You think I would be a typical husband?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “I do not know. And that is my problem.”

  Lucian said nothing for a moment. Then he shook his head. “Perhaps I should have waited.” He glanced around. “Now was not the best time to make a marriage offer.”

  Emma wanted to tell him there would never be a good time for that, but kept the words back. She turned to Juliet instead. “Help me up. Mrs. Handley was nice enough to tell me about a nearby inn.”

  Within the hour, they were seated inside the crowded taproom, sipping ale from pewter mugs, waiting for their fish the serving girl promised was heaven on a plate. Emma lifted her drink, trying to conceal her grin. Everyone thought she was Lucian’s son.

  Glancing across the table, her smile widened at Lucian’s sour look. He did not find the humor, which was too bad. The man had a devilishly good smile. She saluted him with her mug and took a deep draught, then wiped the foam from her upper lip with the back of her hand.

  His frown deepened. “You should ease up on that drink, boy.”

  Laughter erupted from the long table running the length of the room, and Emma decided Lucian was not going to dash her fine spirits. She lifted the mug. “You are not to tell me what to do,” she said, the last word ending on a hiccough. Then she grinned and added, “Papa.”

  Lucian would have said more but their fish arrived.

  Emma never tasted anything so good. She devoured her food, until all that remained was a plate of bones. The serving girl arrived and refilled their mugs before Lucian could stop her. He shook his head and finished his fish.

  A warm tingling numbness settled into Emma. She could not remember the last time she was this happy. Lucian was saying something, but she did not want him to dash her good humor. Then he leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “Emma,” he hissed. “We have to leave. Now.”

  Leave? She didn’t want to leave. She wanted more ale. But Lucian was lifting her from her chair and moving her across the room.

  A blast of cold sea air hit her in the face, clearing her mind a bit. “What are you doing?” she mumbled as she struggled to keep up with his long strides.

  Lucian’s arm came around her shoulders and he leaned down. “I recognized Dempsey. He’s here.”

  Dempsey? Who…? And then it dawned on her. Emma shivered and said nothing. She walked alongside Lucian until they came to the stables. He pulled her inside the dark interior and set her on a stool. “Wait here. I will get Juliet and we will leave. Understand?”

  Emma nodded and Lucian was gone. She sighed and glanced around the dim interior. One horse stuck its dark head over the door and nickered a greeting. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she was just about to yawn when someone spoke.

  “Oy, boy.”

  Jumping to her feet, Emma pressed a hand to her chest, squinting at the man in the doorway. “Who, me?”

  “Yeah. Ye seen a fancy man ‘ere tonight?”

  Her mouth went dry. That voice. She recognized it. Dempsey. “N-No, s-sir.”

  He heaved a sigh, then stomped forward. Emma drew back, almost falling over the stool. He grabbed her hand and pressed something into her palm. “If ye see sommat out o’ place, ye leave word at the inn for Dempsey. Aye?”

  She nodded. “Oh, aye, aye, sir.”

  Then he spun around and stormed outside. Emma sank down on the stool. Opening her fingers, she saw the half-penny in the moonlight shining through the crack in the open stable door.

  “You did well.”

  Lucian’s voice made her jump. She hopped up from the stool. “Can we get out of here?” she asked, pocketing the small coin.

  He led Juliet forward, stopping at the door. After checking the yard, he motioned her to come and Emma slipped through the door. They padded to the copse of trees around the back of the stables and Lucian helped her on the saddle. Instead of hopping up behind her, he led the horse deeper into the forest and turned north.

  “It is dark and Juliet is too tired to carry us both,” he said over his shoulder.

  Emma, too tired herself, nodded and held on.

  They walked for what seemed like hours. Emma’s eyes stung and her head buzzed from lack of sleep. As she started to doze, she jerked awake, not wanting a nasty fall to the ground. After a deep yawn, she gazed at Lucian, able to make out nothing but his outline. He must be more exhausted than she.

  Rubbing her eyes, she felt Juliet turn and glanced around. “Why did we turn?” she asked, peering into the darkness.

  “Before the moon slipped behind a cloud, I thought I saw some sort of structure through there.”

  Emma glanced at the sky and could make out clouds crowding the moon. The wind picked up, rustling the treetops, and she shivered. The air smelled of rain. She hoped Lucian saw somewhere they could go before the storm hit. The low rumble of thunder punctuated the thought, making her shiver.

  The trees thinned and, in the darkness, Emma could see the outline of a building ahead.

  Lucian stopped the horse. “Stay here while I go see if it’s safe.” He handed her the reins. “If there are any signs of trouble, you leave.”

  Too tired to argue, Emma agreed. She watched Lucian disappear into the darkness and stifled a yawn. The wind blew harder and she clutched Juliet’s mane. Lightning flashed through the clouds, showing her the dilapidated cabin with the roof caved in on one side. As the thunder cracked overhead, she cringed, wishing Lucian would hurry.

  Another bolt of lightning streaked overhead and Emma held her breath until the boom sounded, making the ground shake. Juliet flattened her ears and stepped back, growing uneasy. Emma patted her neck. “Easy, girl,” she cooed.

  A fat, cold raindrop hit her on the nose and Emma could hear them pelt the ground, one by one. She was about to slide from the saddle when Lucian hurried to her. “An old hunting cabin,” he said, out of breath. “The stable around back still has a roof intact.” He gathered up the reins and led them in that direction.

  As they drew near the stone structure, the area lit with lightning and Lucian helped her from the saddle while thunder shook the ground. Rain pelted them while they got Juliet inside and Emma crossed her arms, unable to stop shivering. Cold, wet, and tired, she could not have been more miserable. Well, she could be starved, she decided, remembering the delicious fish meal.

  The small stable was dark. Emma wanted to sink to the ground and sleep. Her teeth started to chatter, and she knew she could not sleep until she got warm.


  “Here, this will help,” Lucian said, wrapping something warm around her shoulders. His coat.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and snuggled inside. Her shivers subsided and she sighed, hearing Lucian work to remove Juliet’s saddle.

  Emma held out a hand and made her way around the small area. Her fingers grazed the far wall and she shuffled forward, mindful of debris that could trip her. Rain drove hard over the roof, drowning out all other sound. At least they were not caught in the storm.

  Her fingers met the corner of the room and she stuck her foot out to see if anything was on the ground. Finding nothing, she slid down, resting her back against the stone wall and fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Her grumbling stomach woke her. The need for food brought her out of a sound sleep, and, as she became aware of her surroundings, Emma dared not move. Her cheek rested against a hard, warm chest, and she could hear his breaths whooshing in and out of his lungs. His arms held her to him. Lucian.

  Emma opened her eyes. The tip of his black neckcloth tickled her nose. She wondered how she would rise without waking him? With a sigh, she remained still a moment. The rain had eased to a soft patter against the roof, and she could see pale gray light around the door. She wondered how long they slept. It could be morning or afternoon.

  When her stomach growled, Emma lifted her head. She would have to ease away as quiet as… Lucian’s eyes popped open. He didn’t gaze at her as a person just roused from a sound sleep. No, his eyes were sharp, assessing. And then a slow smile spread across his lips. His arms tightened around her.

  Emma’s breath caught, and before she knew what would happen, she found herself kissing him. The kind of kiss that made her mind whirl and her body go up in flames. The kind of kiss full of seductive danger. But she didn’t care. At the moment, nothing else mattered but Lucian.

  His hands moved up and down her back, then lower. Emma moaned as she felt his growing need harden against her. Drenching her center, making her squirm with wanting something… Longing for some unnamed thing she couldn’t fathom. Yet, she knew it existed. And she knew no one but Lucian could make it happen.