Lord Hunter (Secrets & Scandals Book 6)

by Tiffany Green

  For several seconds, Lucian wondered if he could get his feet to work. Then he snapped his mouth closed and shuffled forward. “Emma,” he said, his voice husky, “you are most lovely.” His eyes roved her face and all he could think about was folding his arms around her and kissing her senseless.

  The dinner bell broke whatever spell he was under. Lucian cleared his throat, set aside his cognac, and offered his arm to Emma.

  She grimaced, slid her gaze to Evie and Jeremy, who were already walking toward the formal dining room, then nestled her hand in the crook of his arm.

  Strolling after Jeremy and Evie, Lucian leaned over and whispered, “What is wrong?”

  Licking her lips, she shook her head.

  Lucian stopped them three feet before the dining room door. He turned her to face him. “Emma. What is it?”

  Her gaze rose to his. “I do not know what to do.”

  He opened his mouth, then stopped when her meaning dawned. Then he relaxed his tense shoulders. “You had me concerned for a moment.” He shook his head. “I thought something was really wrong.”

  She batted his shoulder. “Something is really wrong, Lucian.” Her gaze slid to the door and back. “I cannot go in there and make a complete cake of myself. I do not know what to do. How to act.” She crossed her arms. “It’s embarrassing.”

  He bit back a chuckle and tried to look serious. “Emma.” His hands rose to her arms. “You will do fine. We are all friends here. We will not judge you for not knowing which fork to use.” His thumbs stroked her silky skin. “Besides, I can teach you those silly rules if you want.”

  Her brows rose as the hesitation receded from her eyes. “And you will teach me how to dance, too?”

  Did her father never see she learned…? Lucian realized something in that moment. Emma’s entire life revolved around treasure hunting. As her father searched for the next pot of gold, Emma had nothing. No parties, no dances, no theater, and no friends.

  Lucian pulled her to him. “I will teach you anything you wish. The waltz is my favorite.”

  When he leaned back, tears glistened in her eyes. “I would like to learn that dance first.”

  He kissed the tears from her eyes, then slid his lips to hers. “Come, let us go in before they come searching for us.” He gathered her hand in his and drew her inside the dining room.

  Lucian held the chair for Emma, then took the next seat. A grinning Jeremy, who should have had that seat, walked around the table and sat beside his wife. Certain his friend understood, Lucian leaned over. “A footman will serve and another will pour the wine. If soup is the first course, use the large spoon.” He nodded to her right. “Yes, that one.”

  Emma fingered the polished silver, then tensed when a footman walked in, holding an uncorked bottle of wine. He filled their glasses, then dashed away.

  Lucian reached for the wine. “It’s rather easy to know which glass to choose, is it not?”

  A smile skipped across her lips. “The one the footman has filled?”

  “A toast,” Jeremy said, rising his glass. “To our new friend, Emma. Let this be the first of many gatherings together.”

  When they clinked glasses, Lucian brought the wine to his lips and tasted the deep, rich burgundy. He watched Emma take a sip, wrinkle her nose, then take another. “What do you think?”

  “I think I like it.” She took another sip and grinned. “The more I sip, the better it tastes. Is that odd?”

  Lucian didn’t tell her it was odd for someone of her age to have never had wine before. Instead, he asked, “Jonah never served wine?”

  She set her glass down and shook her head. Glancing at Jeremy and Evie conversing across from them, she lowered her voice. “My father once had a terrible problem. One drink often led to many.” She shrugged. “So, Jonah removed it from the house.”

  “I understand,” Lucian said. “My mother had a similar problem. I am convinced her drinking brought about the cancer that killed her.” He could still see her shriveled, gray face as she gasped her last breath.

  “I am sorry,” Emma said.

  He pushed aside the sad memory and was about to change the topic when the footman entered, carrying large bowls. Lucian winked at Emma, making her grin, and breathed in the creamy asparagus soup.

  As they ate, Jeremy delighted everyone with stories of dinner mishaps. “Even the Duke of Kenbrook threw his head back and laughed at the poor baroness as she fled the room, hair dripping with champagne.”

  Emma giggled. “Did the footman get fired for tripping over the rug?”

  Jeremy shook his head, his hazel eyes twinkling. “Indeed not. I gave him a raise.” He laughed. “The old crone got what was coming.”

  Evie gasped and rapped him on the shoulder. “Jeremy, you shouldn’t say such things.”

  He turned. “What, love? She was mean to everyone. Am I not speaking the truth?”

  She grinned. “Well, yes. The baroness once told me I had the look of a jersey cow.” Shaking her head, Evie continued. “Seeing her covered in champagne did bring about some satisfaction for the slight, I admit.”

  Jeremy took a long pull from his glass, the humor fading from his eyes. “I should have dumped the whole damn meal over her head.” He blew out a breath. “Might still do it.”

  Evie patted his hand. “Now, darling, let us not scheme revenge at the table.” She smiled at Emma. “I am sure you are a wealth of fascinating stories. What, with all the treasures your family has found. Please, do tell us some.”

  Lucian turned to Emma, eager to hear anything about her past. He wanted to know everything, even the smallest detail.

  During the next two courses, Emma spoke of her family locating many treasures, spanning from Roman gold to Viking silver. They found caches of gems and even a crate filled with human bones thought to date back to the crusades.

  Watching Emma, Lucian found her eyes twinkling and color filling her cheeks as she spoke of her adventures. He shifted on his chair, his gaze sliding to his half-eaten roasted pheasant. Something occurred to him as she regaled the table with exciting tales. He could never compete with such a life. His shoulders slumped. Now he understood her refusal to his marriage offer. Life with him would be dull in comparison.

  As the dishes were cleared, Jeremy asked Emma about the current quest. She waited for the footman to leave the room before speaking and stopped when he returned with huge sections of almond cream cake.

  When the footman retreated from the room, Jeremy raised his brows. “You said something about your brother leaving you a message painted on the stable door.”

  Emma nodded. “It said Renfield. Just the one word.”

  Lucian watched Jeremy’s gaze slide to him and sharpen. He knew. Jeremy knew Rebecca had taken Renfield as her lover.

  Around a large bite of cake, Emma said, “Renfield is both a person and a place. I wonder which Sean is referring.”

  Evie leaned forward. “You said something earlier about the Somerset Levels, correct?”

  “Yes. That is where we believe the three crewmen went after taking some gold from the Royal Merchant.”

  “Do you not see?” Evie asked with a smile. “Renfield has an estate north of Bridgewater. In the Somerset Levels.”

  Emma lowered her fork and turned to him. “Lucian. That must be were Sean is.” Her hand reached for his and gave him a squeeze. “We are going to find him.”

  “Fortunately, we are not far from there,” Evie continued. “Less than a day by coach.”

  Lucian watched Emma’s smile falter. She shook her head. “I cannot ask you to take me there.” She drew back her hand. “Nor you, Lucian. I have put you in enough danger. Tomorrow, I will find the estate and Sean on my own.”

  “Like bloody hell, you will,” Lucian snarled, making her eyes grow wide. “We will find your brother together.” As she started to argue, he placed a finger against her lips. “I will not hear of you going alone. You are stuck with me, minx, until you are safe.”

&
nbsp; “I think Lucian is correct in this,” Evie said. “Especially with so many men looking for you.”

  Emma blew out a breath. “Very well.”

  Lucian wasn’t fooled by Emma’s quick acquiescence. The little minx was up to something. He glanced to Jeremy, who gave a slight nod. His friend thought the same. What was she up to, though? One thing Lucian knew, he would have to watch her. Post a footman outside her door, if necessary. If she tried to slip away in the middle of the night, he would learn of it and circumvent her plans.

  Feeling somewhat better, Lucian lifted his fork and ate every crumb of the delicious almond cream cake.

  Hearing Emma’s exaggerated, noisy yawn, Lucian watched her set aside her napkin. “I am terribly tired. If everyone will excuse me, I would like to retire.” When she started to rise, Lucian hopped up and held her chair. “Thank you, Lucian.” She turned to Jeremy and Evie, who had risen. “And thank you both for coming to our rescue earlier and for the lovely evening.” She gave them a wide smile. “Goodnight.”

  “Sleep well,” Evie said.

  Once Emma left the room, Lucian glanced to Jeremy. “Well?”

  Jeremy chuckled and shook his head. “No question about it, old man. She will bolt as soon as she can.”

  Evie pursed her lips. “I agree. Emma believes she is putting us all in danger.”

  Lucian rubbed his chin, considering what to do. “As much as I hate to do it, I think we should station someone outside her room.”

  “Agreed,” Jeremy said, reaching for the pull.

  When Lucian entered his room, something worried him. He pulled away his cravat and threw his jacket over a chair. Emma was canny. Could she still slip away, even with the footman placed outside her door?

  Unbuttoning the carved brass buttons of his waistcoat, he could not banish the nagging suspicion something was wrong. The minx was up to something. He knew it. Blowing out a breath, he walked to his door and pulled it open. Glancing to the room beside his, in the circle of the lamplight, Lucian watched the footman straighten beside Emma’s door. He waved, then retreated back into his room.

  Perhaps, he worried for nothing. Shaking his head, Lucian finished disrobing and settled into his nightshirt. After crawling into the soft bed, he blew out the candle and listened to the noises around him.

  The wind rustled the leaves of the oak outside. One of the branches scraped the glass of a window, making little shrieks to torment him. With a sigh, he hefted himself out of bed and plodded to the window beside the balcony doors. He cracked the window enough to keep the branch from making noises then went back to bed.

  Lucian threw an arm over his eyes, hoping for sleep to come soon. He was tired. Exhausted, but his mind whirled with thoughts of Emma, keeping him wide awake. What a strange turn his life had taken since meeting the minx. Thinking he would retire to the country, where reading and long walks would fill his time, he had no idea he would be thrown into a murder mystery, combined with a treasure hunt. Yet, he felt more alive than ever. Even being on the run from a band of thugs, or maybe because of it, new life was breathed into him.

  No. His arm slid away. That was not accurate. He didn’t feel so alive due to being on the run from a bunch of men. It was due to one person.

  Emma.

  She touched his soul like no other. What was it about her? Her fiery spirit? Her love of adventure? Her vibrant essence? It was everything, Lucian supposed. His body hummed around her, drinking in her excitement as a parched man did water. He knew now he could not live the boring life he had planned.

  He needed Emma. He needed her to fill the gaping void he had no idea he had. The peace he thought he needed would make him alone and miserable. He knew that now. Wiping a hand down his face, he drew in a long breath. He didn’t want to be alone. But he didn’t want to spend his days with just anyone, either. He wanted one person.

  Emma.

  A thud, followed by a sound curse, drifted in from the open window. Lucian held still. Had he heard what he thought he had? His gaze darted to the balcony doors, knowing Emma had a balcony in her room, as well, and threw back the blankets.

  Biting back his own string of curses, he sneaked to the doors, then threw them open and marched outside. In the moonlight, he found Emma, dressed once again as a lad, dangling from the rose trellis between their balconies, trying to get herself killed. Lucian crossed his arms as he stomped toward her. “What are you doing?”

  From the thick blanket of white roses, Emma turned her head, her eyes round in the moonlight, then expelled an exasperated breath. “I think it would be obvious, Lucian.”

  A snap sounded and one of her boots fell away. As she gasped, Lucian lunged forward and grabbed one of her hands. “I have you,” he said. “I’m not going to let go. Give me your other hand.” While he reached over, the whole trellis shuddered, spilling white petals to the ground. A bloody long way down.

  Lucian’s heart pounded hard in his chest. His mouth went dry. He leaned as far as he could and latched on to her other hand. As he tightened his grip, Emma cried out, her other foot giving way. She dangled in the air, squeezing her eyes shut, as Lucian clutched her hands.

  “Don’t let go,” she whispered.

  “Never,” he gritted out. The muscles in his back and arms strained as he struggled to haul her up. “Emma, can you reach one of the balusters?”

  Her eyes came open and she glanced to the carved stone pillars. She shook her head. “Lift me higher.”

  Taking a deep breath, Lucian ground his teeth and pulled her higher. His arms shook and his muscles stung, but he lifted her enough for her to latch on to the guardrail. Then her boots found the lip of the landing, and Lucian was able to haul her up and over the rail.

  He wanted to shake her, but she stood there trembling already. He pushed a hand through his hair. “What were you thinking? You could have been killed.”

  Emma’s arms folded as anger replaced her fear. She narrowed her eyes. “I was leaving to keep you, Jeremy, and Evie from getting killed. That’s what I was thinking, Lucian.”

  He stomped to her. “We have already discussed this.”

  “No, we have not discussed anything.” She unfurled her arms and poked him in the chest. “You dictated.”

  The minx was too bloody stubborn. And that stubbornness was going to get her killed. Taking another step, Lucian watched her eyes widen.

  She leaned back but the rail prevented further retreat. “What are you doing?”

  He pulled her to his chest.

  “Lucian, what…?” Her breath caught when he lowered his lips to hers.

  His kiss was primal, wild, and urgent. He could not help but pour out all his feelings. And when she melted against him and kissed him back, Lucian wanted to roar his approval. He scooped her up into his arms and brought her inside his room.

  After setting her on his bed, he closed the balcony doors with a soft click, then stalked back to her. Someone would have to see that she did not try such a foolish stunt again. That meant keeping her with him all night.

  Lucian drew in a slow breath, knowing what it might lead to, and reached for Emma.

  Chapter 13

  Emma shivered, from almost falling to her death or from the wicked glint in Lucian’s eyes, she could not discern. She wrapped her arms about her middle to keep the tremors from his detection. He halted before her, and Emma wished she could read his thoughts. She knew he was angry at her trying to leave, but something else lurked in his silent assessment. Almost as though he were trying to make up his mind about something.

  Unable to take anymore, Emma broke the silence. “I know you are angry with me, Lucian, but must you stand there and…and…loom?”

  “Loom?” he asked, his right brow rising.

  She threw out an arm and rolled her wrist. “Or whatever it is you are doing.”

  “I am trying to figure out why so intelligent a lady would act so stupidly.”

  Scoffing, she shook her head. “I knew you would not understand.
”

  “What is there not to understand, Emma? Your attempt to break your neck, or your certain capture by a band of ruffians?”

  “Really, Lucian. You are being overdramatic. This isn’t a Shakespeare play.”

  He hunched down, his voice softening. “You are right about that, Emma. This is no play. This is real, and that is my point.” He took her hands in his. “Do you not see? You could have died tonight.”

  She turned and studied him in the darkness. There was enough ambient light to see the worry etched on his face. “But I did not die.” She squeezed his hands. “And that is my point. Our lives cannot be dictated by what could happen. We must live by what is.”

  His brows drew together. “What about the danger you are facing? Whitehall and his men are after you. Do you not consider what might happen and take appropriate measures to prevent getting captured?” He leaned forward. “Or do you simply believe ‘what is’ and take no precautions at all?”

  Emma’s anger flickered to life, burning low in her belly. “You are confusing past and future. I do not live by dwelling on past events, but I do take precautions for dangers I may face.”

  “Tell me of these precautions.”

  “For one, I am disguised as a boy.”

  He blinked once, then chuckled. “I wish I could say your disguise can fool everyone.”

  She did not find this amusing in the least. “It fooled Whitehall and his men.” She tried pulling away, but he held her hands firm. “That is all that matters.”

  Lucian sobered, his thumbs swiping the tops of her hands. “What other precautions are you taking?”

  “Well, I am not exactly out in the open, wearing a large sign reading ‘Take me to Whitehall’, am I?”

  His thumbs stilled. “No. You are hiding at a friend’s estate with many servants watching the perimeter. Which is better than being alone on foot, hoping one of those thirty men looking for you will not find you.”

  “They are looking for a girl,” she pointed out. “With an earl. Certainly not a lone boy.”