"But, Mama, I loved you both."
The duchess took her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "I know that, dearest. But after your father died, I was so very angry with him. For many things." She swallowed a sob. "I was angry with you, too. I was angry with everybody, including your brothers. I drifted away from life, from my sons, from my daughter who needed me most. But now, having seen you like this, I realized I have failed you in many ways. Pray forgive me, Emily. I do so want to be a good mother."
Hot tears welled in Emily's eyes. "Oh, Mama." She opened her arms, and the duchess fell into her daughter’s embrace with a heart-wrenching sob.
"Forgive me for letting you go through these past three years without me, dearest."
"Oh, Mama. I forgive you and I vow I will change as well."
Both women lifted their heads at the knock on the door.
"Come in," the duchess said, stuffing her handkerchief onto the nightstand.
Roderick peeked inside, raising a curious brow at the extraordinary sight of mother and daughter holding hands. "What's this?"
The duchess regarded Roderick's perplexed expression with a stern glare. "Is there something wrong with a mother showing affection for her daughter?"
Roderick looked at Emily, then at his mother. "Of course not," he said with smile, giving his sister a veiled wink.
The duchess gave Emily's hand a tight squeeze. "Roderick, see to your sister. I must see to a few things with Agatha, and mind you, see to the carriage being made ready for our departure." She kissed her daughter on the forehead and patted her hand. "We will depart first thing tomorrow morning. I believe you will be fine. The fresh air will do you good." Her mother gave her a questioning stare.
For once Emily was not going to argue with her mother. She would leave tomorrow. Her heart could not endure any more pain. "I will be fine, Mama."
Her mother smiled. "Now, be a good boy, Roderick," she murmured before she retreated from the room.
Roderick knitted his brow as he watched his mother's back. "Good boy?" He almost choked out the words. "Has she a fever?"
Emily laughed. "No, Mama is quite well."
Roderick pursed his lips as if not quite believing her.
"I assure you, our mother is not insane, Roderick. But I would be very careful if you are not a good boy. You never know a mother's wrath until you step over the line."
Roderick chuckled. "I will converse about our dear mother at a later time. Now, how are you feeling?"
Emily picked at the linens. "I will recover."
There was an intense pause, and Emily felt a momentary sense of panic at the inquisitive way her brother was staring at her.
"You have a visitor," he finally said.
Emily looked up, surprised. "A visitor?"
Roderick walked toward the door and let the earl enter. "Stonebridge wishes to see you. I have given my permission."
Emily's heart twisted with pain as she pulled the blankets across her chest. "Roderick," she snapped. "I am not presentable." And never would be to this man.
Roderick exchanged glances between Emily and the earl. "You need not worry about pretenses. I am staying."
"I need a bath," she said in a low voice, feeling Jared's heated gaze burning through her covers.
Roderick glanced back toward Stonebridge, frowning. "She is not presentable."
Emily watched hesitantly as a muscle jumped in Jared’s cheek.
"I need to speak to your sister. But I will not beg."
A look of annoyance flashed across Roderick's face. "Step outside, Jared."
The earl's cool gaze traveled over Emily's face before he retreated into the hall.
Roderick closed the door and turned to his sister. "The man only wishes to make things right. He worries you are more ill than we have reported. He feels responsible for what happened today, Em."
He was responsible. And for more than that, she wanted to say, but did not want to add murder of an aristocrat to Roderick's list of sins, so she consented to see the earl, only after slipping into her dressing gown.
When Jared walked into the room, he apologized for not watching out for her. She accepted this apology and glared back at him. Roderick's lips thinned as he stood near the door. Seconds of silence ticked by with increasing uneasiness.
As if sensing the turmoil swirling about the room, the duke cleared his throat. "She's quite on the mend as you can see, Jared. But we must let her rest."
Emily sank back into her pillows, able to hear every jarring word Roderick was saying.
"No doubt, she does not wish to see you," Roderick said in a harsh whisper as he jerked Jared back into the hall. "And if you were not my friend, I would call you out for leaving her to that maddening crowd. What, pray tell, were you thinking?"
Emily closed her eyes. At least she would not have to worry about having Jared around with Roderick as guard dog. Still, to have wasted so many years thinking about that man was too painful to even contemplate.
As she drifted to sleep, the soft padding of the maid's slippers stirred her senses. Not wanting to take a bath so soon, Emily kept her eyes shut and spoke in a tired whisper. "You may take the soup now, and please have the water sent up in about an hour."
"I am not your servant, madam."
Chapter Seven
Emily's eyes flew open in surprise. "You!" Her gaze quickly shot to the door and saw that it was closed.
"Yes, me," Jared said, his amber eyes twinkling with mirth.
"This is not funny, my lord. You do realize that Roderick will shoot you if he finds you alone here with me."
"Will he, now?"
Her jaw dropped the second he folded himself into the chair beside her bed. Buckskin breeches clung to long, powerful legs, leaving nothing in the man that seemed wanting . . . except his heart. She blushed hotly.
Dark hair, still wet from his bath, curled at the nape of his neck like that of a schoolboy, making him look more innocent than he was. She could not help but notice the pair of broad shoulders stretched taut against a cinnamon-colored jacket. "Y-you better leave."
His smile only widened, and when he leaned forward, she detected the scent of peppermint from his breath. Beneath the sheets, her fingers dug into her palms. Insufferable man! "I will scream if you do not do as I say."
"Oh, you do that, Lady Emily. Scream loud and clear."
Her heart sped with a maddening beat when he lifted a strand of hair from her eyes. "I-I will scream, I tell you."
He flopped back in his chair and arched a devilish brow. "You do that and we will be married within the week."
Emily gasped, angry with herself for the power he still possessed over her. What was he about? Even the hint of mischief that flickered in those amber eyes confused her.
"You are a monster, sir," she said, managing to tear her gaze away from him.
"Monster or not, my sweet"—he gently cupped her face with his hands and turned her head toward him— "you are about to tell me about that wound on your back. Or should I call your brother and ask him?"
She tensed. Jared had seen her back.
"Tell me, Emily." His thumb trailed down her face, and every muscle in her body rebelled against his pitying touch. She had no wish for his sympathy. She wanted to be left alone. Wanted to forget. The man who shot her was dead, and her vow of silence regarding her work made it impossible to tell Jared anything anyway.
"Leave me be," she said, turning away, feeling the stinging tears begin to dam in her eyes. "I never want to see you again."
"Agatha is the only other one who has knowledge of your scars, if that is what you fear," he said softly.
She felt herself blush. Agatha? Had the woman betrayed her?
"Emily, look at me."
She turned her head and glared at him. "Leave me," she whispered hoarsely. "I never want to see you again, do you not understand the king's English?"
A muscle jerked in his cheek. "Let me change the subject, then. I'm asking you to forgive me
. Is that so hard?"
Forgive him for what? Three years ago? Bowing to Roderick's request to guard her? Or quarreling with her at the fair? A knot rose in her throat and she took a deep breath, hoping he would leave after she eased him of his guilt. "I forgive you." But I will not love you.
He smiled then, a most devastating turn of his lips that made her heart flutter. But she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he still affected her. She wanted to be far, far away from this man as soon as possible.
He kissed her hand, and she desperately tried to dismiss the familiar aching in her body.
"Well, then," he said matter-of-factly. "Since we are on better terms, I wish to know how you obtained that wound on your back." His smile vanished as quickly as it came, and his eyes flashed with impatience. "In fact, I demand it."
"You demand? How dare you demand anything of me!"
"How dare I?" he growled, his hand coming down on hers in an iron grip, then gentling into a dangerous caress. "I daresay your brothers would not fancy that scar. Do not keep this from me, Emily."
She swallowed and tugged at her hand. "You have no right."
"Em?" They both froze at the sound of Roderick's voice outside the hall.
Emily glanced at the door. "Give me a minute, Roderick.
"Good heavens, do something," she hissed, looking at Jared. "Slip under the bed."
He stared at her as if she had two heads. "What?"
Her command surprised even her. "Slide under the bed or we will be wed before the week is out."
The man seemed momentarily speechless. He glanced at the door and lowered his voice. "The devil I will. I refuse to hide like a sniveling coward."
Another knock. "Em?"
Emily bit her lip. "I beg you, please."
He scowled. "Very well, but if Roderick—" The sentence was left unsaid as he bent over and slid beneath her bed.
Emily bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing. "Of course, you know it will be much more than a wedding license that he will demand," she whispered.
The door creaked opened. "Em?"
"Come in."
"Thought you were taking a bath, but caught the maid in the hall and she said you were sleeping. Then I heard voices." He lifted a concerned brow.
"Voices? How very odd."
His wary gaze swept the room. "A male voice, if I am not mistaken."
Emily coughed. "Do be a dear, Roderick, and fetch me a glass of water." Resting a hand against her head, feigning a headache, she pointed to the pitcher on top of her nightstand.
Roderick rushed to her side and poured the water, forgetting all about the voices. Emily thanked him and downed the entire glass, all the while wondering what Jared was thinking, while being held prisoner beneath her bed and staring at the toes of Roderick's shiny black Hessians. The very idea made her giggle and spurt out some of the water onto the floor.
Jared had no idea how long he had been sandwiched between the mattress and the dusty pine-planked floor. But whatever it was, it was too blasted long. The parade of people marching back and forth from Lady Emily's chambers seemed endless.
As Black Wolf, he had done his share of espionage, but hiding under a lady's bed was not in his repertoire. If that woman thought he had not heard her stifled giggles over his dire predicament, she had better think again.
First, it was Roderick asking about how the fire started. Then, it was the duchess who pampered Emily like a sickly child. Then, it was Jane who cried over the bruises on Emily's cheek. Now, it appeared Agatha was feeling responsible for the entire mishap.
Jared's mouth twitched as a piece of dust floated to his lips. When in thunderation would they leave?
"What was my nephew thinking, leaving you in the midst of that wild crowd?"
"He did not exactly leave me," Emily said.
"What would you call it, then?" Agatha's parasol thumped against the floor, setting up another round of dust.
Jared grimaced, feeling a sneeze coming on. Confound it. This was intolerable. The lint beneath the blasted bed was enough to give a person consumption. On the other hand, consumption would be a better alternative than his aunt discovering him in this sorry predicament. Heaven knows what kind of attack she would mount against him then. That black parasol could be a powerful weapon if used properly.
He slowly slid his fingers to his nose, pinching his nostrils to stop the sneeze. If the men at White's found out about this, he would never hear the end of it.
"Ah, here comes the bathwater now," Agatha announced.
Jared lifted his head, hitting the rung above him. Bath water? Devil take it! He bit back a groan when the sweet scent of roses drifted to his nose.
"I have added a few drops of rose oil, dear. I know you like it that way."
"Thank you, Agatha. You are too kind."
"If you wish, I could stay and be of some help to you."
Jared clasped his head in his hands. He had to retreat as swiftly as possible. Emily was going to take a bath, and he would have to stay prisoner under the bed while she did it. The thought was both arousing and nauseating at the same time. Roderick would surely kill him!
"No, thank you, Agatha. I assure you, no maid either. I will be able to take care of myself."
Jared let out a sigh of relief. He would look the other way. Well, perhaps . . .
"What was that?" Agatha asked, her parasol thumping closer to Jared's feet. "Thought I heard something scampering beneath your bed."
Emily coughed. "My bed?"
"Yes, I distinctly heard—"
A bark from the door interrupted Agatha's comment.
Jared groaned at the sound of thumping paws. The moment his dog pounced onto Emily's mattress, the rung above him banged against his head.
Blast it all. Nigel would surely give him away.
"Nigel, out of here," Agatha cried. "Emily cannot recover with you licking her face."
Emily laughed. "He loves the scent of rose water, Agatha."
Jared grimaced. Lucky dog!
"Off, Nigel. Off!" Agatha's parasol whacked the side of the bed. "Now, I say. Move!"
There was a bark and another thump, but this time it was Nigel's heavy paws thudding to the floor. Jared held his breath. His dog had the best nose in England and France put together. No doubt, the game was up.
"Quiet, Nigel," Agatha snapped. "Emily has had quite enough commotion for one day."
Nigel gave one last bark and whimpered.
Jared's eyes widened at the sight of a wet nose staring back at him. Praying for a miracle, he silently waved the dog away. But Nigel was not about to move an inch. Blast it to hell.
Agatha's voice boomed above him. "Ah, here comes more water, dear. You will feel so much better after a good warm bath." Jared flinched when he heard a splash. "Feels perfect."
He turned his head as the bed squeaked, and his aunt started helping Emily down. His heart stopped pumping at the sight of a shapely ankle sliding down the side of the bed.
His eyes suddenly grew round with pleasure. Perhaps he would not move for some time after all.
"Thank you, Agatha, I can do everything else from here."
So could I, Jared thought with a smile.
"Very well, dear, I will leave you two alone."
Jared felt the blood rush to his head.
"Two?" Emily squeaked out.
"You and Nigel, that is, unless you want Nigel with me?" Without waiting for Emily's answer, Agatha walked across the room to leave, closing the door behind her.
Jared stared fixedly on the second shapely ankle that descended at his side, and he started to sweat. He was not such a sapskull that he was going to remind her he was here.
"Out!"
He jerked at the sound of the harsh voice, thwacking his head on the rungs above him. "Confound it!"
"Out," Emily snapped again.
Jared came to the realization that she was speaking to him and not Nigel. "Daresay, I prefer the view from here."
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"Out!"
Letting out a dry chuckle, Jared snaked his body out from beneath the bed, eyeing more than just a shapely ankle. His gaze locked on one creamy white calf. "I take that back. Perhaps the view is better from here."
"You scoundrel!"
He smiled, lifting his gaze to her blushing face. He had an overwhelming need to pull her toward him and kiss her soundly. Well, why the devil not?
Before she knew what he was about, he wrapped a strong hand around her head and crushed his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm and sweet, just like he remembered. It ended all too soon when she hastily reared back, as if she had been scorched.
"Oh, how could you?"
"How could I?" Jared raised a mischievous brow, watching her sweep the coverlet swiftly over her body. He dropped his gaze, patting the dust off his trousers. "How could I not?"
"Will you please leave?" She swept her finger toward the door.
"I will leave only because you need a bath and more rest." He quickly spun on his heels, snapping his fingers for Nigel to follow.
"Be certain my brother is not waiting in the hallway," she bit out tartly.
He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze riveted on her snapping eyes. He knew that the scar on her back was only scraping the surface of a much larger secret. "We will continue our little talk tomorrow, Lady Emily."
"I do not believe so, Lord Stonebridge." Her tone was bitter. Yet he could not blame her, for he deserved every bit of her condemnation. But he would not let that scar go unanswered.
"I do not believe so, Em. I know so."
"Lady Emily to you, Lord Stonebridge."
"Forgive me for my informality, Lady Emily."
He bowed and could almost hear her grind her teeth in rage as he swiftly retreated from the room.
"What do you mean she has taken her leave?"
Jared glared at Agatha and threw his napkin onto the breakfast table, not able to believe the news.
His aunt looked up while she buttered her bread. "They took off for London early this morning."
"When?"
"Early this morning." Agatha gave a resigned sigh, reaching for the orange marmalade. "Are you deaf, my boy? I just said that, did I not?"
"No, Aunt. I meant when this morning?"
The Rejected Suitor (The Clearbrooks) Page 10