Indecent (Regency Lovers 1)

by Carole Mortimer

  “Indeed?” Adam arched dark brows before allowing his glance to shift to where his brother still held one of Emma’s gloved hand. “I believe you may release her now, Alex.” He stared coldly at his brother until he did exactly that.

  “If you will both excuse me?” Emma didn’t wait for a reply from either brother before turning and walking away with a swish of the silk skirt of her cream evening gown.

  “There is much more to her than the prim and proper Miss Emma Harris she presents to Society,” Alexander murmured beside Adam with obvious admiration.

  The two brothers had not spoken again after Adam left his study earlier in search of Emma. A search that had proven fruitless; the Harris’s carriage was still waiting outside Hawkwood House, and enquiries showed her maid was still below stairs there, leaving Adam with no indication of where Emma might have disappeared to, or how.

  Rather than chase her all over London, or calling at Langdon House on the off-chance she might have gone to visit her friend, Adam had written her a note. His hope being that Emma would attend the Harper’s musical soiree if only so that she might have opportunity to tell him exactly what she thought of him and his arrogant letter.

  The satisfaction Adam had felt, upon seeing Emma the moment he entered the Harper’s Reception room a few minutes ago, was totally nullified the moment he recognized his brother as the man standing beside her holding her hand.

  He turned to face Alexander. “Whatever your reason for being here this evening I advise you to have a care in your behavior where Emma is concerned.”

  “Or?” his brother challenged.

  His gaze narrowed. “Or you might find you have overstepped the line with the wrong woman. Or gentleman,” he added softly.

  Alexander raised speculative eyebrows. “I have never seen you behave in this…possessive manner, toward any woman before.”

  Adam’s mouth thinned. “With such an unconcerned chaperone as Harris someone must protect Emma’s reputation.” He had seen the older man in the drawing-room taking refreshment when he arrived, with Emma nowhere to be seen. Harris, in conversation with their hostess, had waved a hand in the direction of the adjoining Reception room when Adam made enquiries as to Emma’s whereabouts.

  “Your interest in her did not look in the least fatherly earlier today,” Alexander mocked.

  Paternal was the last thing Adam felt toward Emma; as now always seemed to be the case, his cock had engorged to attention the moment he set eyes on her again this evening. A persistent arousal that did nothing to improve his temper. “Stay away from her, Alex,” he growled in warning before striding away to look for wherever the hell Emma had disappeared to this time.

  “He is only playing with you.”

  Emma had escaped to the ladies retiring room after leaving the Stirling brothers, hopeful that Hawkwood, if he should feel inclined to seek her out and continue the conversation, would never follow her in here. Knowing the arrogance of the duke that was not a certainty!

  A glance about the room showed there was only herself and Lady Juanita Millbrook still present, telling Emma the second half of the musical program must have now started.

  Meaning that scornful remark must have been addressed to her? “I beg your pardon?” she enquired lightly.

  The beautiful Juanita Millbrook’s Spanish heritage, on her mother side, was evident in her dark hair and eyes. The sneer on her lips belonged completely to her. “I thought you should know I am not in the habit of sharing my lovers.”

  Considering the other woman was married, and had been so for some years, her possessiveness, in regard to a lover, was disgusting.

  “I have no idea what or who you are talking about.” Emma had enough to concern herself this evening, with Hawkwood’s arrival, without being subjected to another woman’s jealous temper.

  Although, taking into account what Emma had witnessed two evenings ago during the Wainwrights’ ball, it was not too difficult to guess that Lady Millbrook’s words of warning were in regard to Alexander Stirling.

  “Alex is simply trying to make me jealous by showing you attention,” the other woman scornfully confirmed that assessment. “As if I would ever feel jealous of someone like you!” Her hard blue gaze swept over Emma dismissively.

  A set-down Emma had no doubt was meant to hurt. “All evidence to the contrary.” Her chin rose proudly. “Considering you have felt it necessary to issue me such a warning.”

  Juanita Millbrook’s nostrils flared as her temper rose. “Do not get clever with me!”

  “I am merely being myself, madam,” Emma assured stiltedly. “As I believe Lord Stirling is being himself by flirting with every woman he meets,” she added ruefully.

  The older woman gave a dismissive snort. “You do not have the experience to ever hope to hold the attention of a man as sensual as Alex for long.”

  The same, Emma accepted heavily, could be said about her and Adam Stirling, the Duke of Hawkwood. “Then it is as well I have no interest in attempting to do so,” she dismissed curtly.

  Lady Millbrook gave a haughty inclination of her head. “As long as we understand each other.”

  Emma gave a falsely sweet smile. “Oh I believe I understand you only too well, my lady. But perhaps you should look closer to home for the reason you are unable to keep your lover’s interest.”

  “Why you little—!”

  Emma had no warning before long fingernails scraped down the side of her exposed throat, her gasp a mixture of surprise and the sudden pain as she raised a hand instinctively to cover her throat to prevent the other woman from attacking her a second time.

  Dark eyes glittered with dislike. “You will stay away from Alex in future if you do not wish to receive more of the same.” Juanita Millbrook turned on her well-shod heel and marched from the room.

  Emma was so shocked she could not move at all for several minutes, and when she did it was to remove her gloved fingers from her neck and see there was blood on the cream lace. She moved on shaky legs to the mirror so that she might inspect the damage to her neck.

  Three long gouges raked down her skin, all slightly oozing blood.

  Three very noticeable gouges.

  So much so that Emma knew she could not return to the rooms where others might see those scratches and ask questions she would rather not answer. Luckily the other guests would all now be listening to the music, which would allow Emma to collect her cloak before sending a message to her father with one of the footmen. She would tell him she had accidentally spilled a drink down her gown and was returning home early because of it. That excuse would suffice until her father saw the scratches on her throat at breakfast in the morning. If they had a cat she might have blamed the injury on that, but as they had no pets she would have to come up with some other excuse.

  Emma had no doubt Adam Stirling would assume she had left early this evening because of him, but for the moment she could not concern herself with what that gentleman thought, of her or anything else.

  It was unfortunate then that the duke should happen to be standing outside when she stepped into the hallway.

  Emma’s quickly lifted her hand to cover the gouges on her throat and kept her head turned slightly away from him. “I have nothing more to say to you, Your Grace.”

  He smiled tightly. “But I have several things I wish to say to you.”

  “Can they not wait until tomorrow?” Reaction to Lady Millbrook’s attack was definitely setting in now, Emma aware her whole body was starting to shake. She was also doing her best to hold back the tears stinging her eyes, but she feared she would not be able to continue doing so if Hawkwood delayed her for much longer. “I am feeling rather…fatigued, and intend to leave early.”

  Adam, sensing a lack of Emma’s usual fire when she spoke to him, now studied her between narrowed lids. Her face was extremely pale, and she was not looking at him directly. “What has happened?” he demanded.

  “Nothing has happened.” She kept her face turned slight
ly away from him. “I am simply tired, as I have already stated.”

  “No, that is not it,” Adam said slowly as he approached her. “Tell me—” He broke off as he saw the cream glove resting against her throat was no longer pristine but appeared to be covered in— “Who the hell did this to you?” He gently moved Emma’s fingers aside so he could see three long scratches down the right side of her neck. “Who?” Now that Emma had raised her head he was able to see the glitter of tears in her eyes.

  “I accidentally caught—”

  “Do not attempt to tell me these are anything but deliberately inflicted wounds,” Adam grated.

  “They hardly merit being called wounds,” Emma mumbled.

  He was not fooled for a moment; the scratches looked both red and sore, and were deep enough to have drawn blood. He had been standing in the hallway for some time waiting for Emma to leave the retiring room, and the last person to leave had been— “Lady Millbrook did this to you,” he stated not asked.

  Emma’s throat moved as she swallowed. “I am sure it was an accident—”

  “What possible reason could she have for doing this to you?” Adam bit out through gritted teeth. “The truth, Emma,” he demanded as she once again avoided meeting his gaze.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I believe she took exception to your brother talking to me earlier.”

  Adam closed his eyes briefly in an effort to gain control of his temper. A temper he rarely, if ever lost, and yet had done so more than once in the past three days. The difference being this time it was in defense of Emma rather because of her.

  He took a light grasp of her arm. “I shall escort you to my carriage, where you will sit and wait while I return to the house for a few minutes to collect your cloak and inform your father you are leaving.” He also intended to speak severely to Alex about his ex-mistress, tonight if possible but tomorrow if not. But Emma did not need to know that. “Do you understand?”

  Her eyes flashed. “I am neither deaf nor stupid.”

  Adam smiled at hearing some of the fire return to her tone. “No, thank God, you are neither of those things.” He sobered. “I shall only be a few minutes.”

  Emma leaned weakly back against the plush upholstery after Hawkwood had collected her cloak and she was seated in his carriage; she suddenly felt as exhausted as she had earlier claimed to be. The tears that had threatened since Juanita Millbrook’s attack also began to fall.

  And to think, just three days ago Emma had thought her existence dull and uninteresting. Since Hawkwood’s advent into her life she had been made love to by a duke, flirted with by a lord, and physically attacked by a lady who had revealed herself as not being a lady at all.

  Chapter 7

  Adam could see Emma had been crying when he stepped up in his carriage a few minutes later, the tracks of those tears visible on the pallor of her cheeks in the glow of the lamp inside the carriage. The pupils of her eyes were also thoroughly blown, so that only a small ring of green remained about the edge. She was also shaking uncontrollably.

  Understandably; unlike Adam, who had served in the army for five years, he very much doubted Emma had ever before been subjected to deliberate physical injury of any kind.

  “Drive on,” he instructed the groom as he threw Emma’s cloak onto the other seat before sitting next to her.

  The carriage moved forward as Adam lifted Emma across that seat and onto his thighs before drawing her into the comfort of his chest. His arms tightened as she began to cry in earnest.

  Adam allowed her to cry, knowing the tears would be cathartic to the shock of having been so willfully attacked.

  As well as making his own and Emma’s excuses to Lord Harris, Adam had sought out his brother and told him in no uncertain terms to “get control of his bitch or he would do it for him”. Alexander had been as visibly shocked as Adam by Lady Millbrook’s unwarranted attack on Emma.

  Emma felt like a soggy, embarrassed mess by the time her tears began to abate long minutes later; no doubt her eyes and cheeks were an unattractive red.

  She also felt very small, safe, and protected in Adam’s muscular arms.

  “Here.” A white handkerchief appeared in front of her.

  Emma’s fingers shook slightly as she took possession of the silk square. Not only must she look a mess but as she sat up she realized Hawkwood’s shirt front and waistcoat were also distinctly damp. Something she attempted to rectify once she had wiped the residue of tears from her cheeks.

  “Leave it,” Adam rasped his impatience with her efforts.

  Emma looked at him shyly from beneath her lashes. “I am most terribly sorry for having cried all over you in that unladylike fashion.” She chewed worriedly on her bottom lip, her gaze once again lowered so he could not see her eyes.

  Adam snorted. “I believe we might agree the only unladylike person present this evening was the Millbrook bitch,” he bit out, still inwardly seething with anger toward the other woman. How dare she lay hands on and physically hurt Emma, let alone cause her this added emotional suffering?

  “Possibly,” Emma allowed shakily. “She certainly has an unattractive temper.”

  Adam chuckled softly. “Whereas you own temper is one of your most attractive features.”

  Emma’s back stiffened and she would have moved from sitting on his thighs if his arms had not tightened about her to keep her firmly in place. “I have never lost my temper with anyone before in the way I do constantly with you,” she defended.

  “Or I with you,” Adam mused. “I wonder why that is?”

  “You are an infuriating gentleman?” she came back pertly.

  He gave another chuckle. “What is my own excuse in regard to you?”

  She winced. “I am an infuriating young lady?”

  “You are indeed.” Adam straightened. “But as I very much enjoy our verbal sparring, I am making no complaint on the subject.”

  Her eyes widened. “You do?”

  He nodded. “It heightens the physical awareness between us. Do you know what I enjoy even more?”

  As his voice had lowered to a husky and sensual drawl Emma had no difficulty at all in guessing what that something more might be.

  Emma had also become aware of the intimacy of sitting on Adam’s thighs, of being able to feel the long length of his aroused cock pressing against her hip. She felt an answering heat move from her throat, down into her breasts, before settling at her core.

  She glanced out of the window as a distraction. “Where are we going?” The darkened street outside seemed familiar but it was certainly not in the direction of her own home.

  “I wish to properly examine and clean those scratches on your neck,” the duke stated grimly.

  Emma raised her eyebrows as she turned back to look at him. “We are going to Hawkwood House?”

  He gave an arrogant inclination of his head. “I have the necessary medical supplies there.”

  “But—”

  “I fail to see any difference between your visit to Hawkwood House this afternoon and the one this evening,” his voice was laced with an underlying impatience.

  Well… No… Neither did Emma, when the reason for her earlier visit had been totally in the pursuit of pleasure, her own, at least. Which brought back all to forcefully the reason for Adam’s interest in her. “My father will be expecting me to be home when he returns.”

  “Your father was too busy being flattered by our hostess to object when I told him I was escorting you home,” Adam rasped disapprovingly.

  Emma’s cheeks flushed at the obvious rebuke toward her parent. “I am sure he believed you were escorting me to our home not your own.”

  “No doubt he did,” Adam dismissed uninterestedly.

  Emma frowned, once again irritated by this gentleman’s arrogance.

  Almost as much as she was tempted by the opportunity to once again be alone with Adam.

  Their lovemaking had been halted abruptly this afternoon,
by the arrival of Alexander Stirling, and the desire which had been building within Emma then still roiled and ached inside her. Even more so being in Adam’s arms and held against the heat of his body, with the evidence of his own arousal still pressing intimately against her.

  Whatever his reason for wishing to marry her he could not deny his arousal in her presence.

  Nevertheless… “I did not anticipate this happening.”

  “Neither did I,” Adam drawled as the carriage came to a stop outside Hawkwood House. It was true, he had not planned for this to happen, but now that it had... “But that does not mean I do not intend to take full advantage of it.”

  Emma gave a startled squawk as he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her onto her feet. “Perhaps I should go straight home, after all.”

  “Perhaps you should.” Adam looked at her beneath hooded lids. “But you are not going to. Are you?”

  No, she was not going to do that, Emma accepted, her cheeks burning as she busied herself gathering up her cloak.

  This might be the last opportunity she had to be alone with Adam.

  The Duke of Hawkwood’s private sitting room was becoming as familiar to her as her own, Emma acknowledged as she gave a rueful glance about the wholly masculine and candlelit room; large and dark furniture, and equally big and comfortable cream couches.

  As Emma’s gloves were badly stained with her own blood she had decided to remove them completely, putting put them to one side before warming her bare hands in front of the crackling fire.

  She studied Adam beneath her lids as he stood across the room in conversation with his butler, able to hear him requesting the man bring him clean cloths and warm water, along with some ointment from the dressing room adjoining his bedchamber.

  “Let me see,” Adam demanded as, having dismissed the butler, he strode over, lit candle in hand, to join her beside the fire.

  Emma straightened, giving a pained wince as tilting her head to one side pulled on the ragged edges of her gouged flesh.

  “Bitch was far too mild a description of that she-cat.” Adam’s gaze grew flinty as he held up the candle to inspect the scratches. “An animal would be put down for less.”