“Don’t make another mistake you’ll regret. Your banishment to Falmont will look like child’s play if your integrity is questioned again. Protect your reputation, as it’s nigh impossible to repair. Take my word for it.” She drew Emma into her arms and squeezed tight with a hug.
“Please, it’s nothing.”
Claire tucked several loose curls behind Emma’s ear, then tugged on her dress sleeves. “He’d marry you without hesitation if he thought you were interested. My only concern would be you.”
“What do you mean?” The idea Somerton would marry anyone was ludicrous. How could Claire even suggest such an idea?
“He’s complicated and not accustomed to compromise. Neither are you.” Her cousin playfully tapped the tip of her nose. “It’s not your strong suit.”
She let Claire’s words fade into the night. Her appearance wasn’t perfect, so Claire tugged and twisted the bodice until her breasts wouldn’t make an uninvited appearance. In silence, they walked back to the house.
The warning tasted like bitter medicine. Putrid to swallow, but designed to protect. When Claire’s own marital status, or lack thereof, became a favorite topic of the ton’s fodder after four failed engagements, Emma had witnessed the cruel attacks. With Claire’s string of broken engagements, most of the ton and several “close friends” delighted in spreading rumors she was cursed. Claire had walked through life wounded and convinced she’d never marry until Alex came and changed everything.
Tonight, Emma would have welcomed a little of Claire’s curse coming her way, anything to keep Somerton from interfering in her life.
Chapter Eight
The cold added a damp bite everywhere. Emma leaned back against the plush squabs and stretched. If the horses kept the same pace, she’d reach Portsmouth within three hours.
After her parents left to visit Lady Chelston, Emma met the old Pembrooke coachman, Harry Johnson and Daphne at the smithy’s business. Ever thoughtful, Daphne had provided a packed basket and a velvet coverlet for Emma’s comfort.
Daphne had merely nodded when Emma had asked her to stay hidden for the day. Emma explained that she’d slipped last night and told Somerton that she and Daphne were visiting a friend today. It’d been a poor excuse, but it was all Emma could think of when Somerton had confronted her. If he discovered Daphne at home, he’d know Emma had traveled to Portsmouth.
However, Daphne didn’t hide her dismay when she had discovered Arial hadn’t accompanied Emma. However, with a fever and chills, Emma wouldn’t risk Arial’s health on such a short trip. Besides, with Goodwin’s friends, she’d be perfectly safe.
Only one more stop before she’d arrive at the Ruby Crown Inn. Tomorrow, she’d go and meet the Parkers and examine the coroner’s report. Then, she’d visit Mary. The Parkers had sent word to the maid that Emma wanted to see her.
She examined the silver locket in her hand. Warm from the heat of her hands, the simple necklace glistened with light and memories of Lena. Inside, was a carefully protected lock of Lena’s soft brown hair and a few crushed petals from the first posy Lena had received from an admirer—ordinary items they’d shared as they embraced their first Season together.
She carefully placed the locket in her reticule. Needing to fidget, she caressed the soft dark navy velvet on the seat. Claire recently had the vehicle renovated to match the interior of her husband’s carriage.
Such a waste in Emma’s opinion. If it had been her vehicle, she’d have made the interior fit her own tastes. Cream-colored leather with a green-blue velvet would be perfect. She imagined a handsome man sitting across from her with a playful teasing smile, his eyes matching the interior.
Her vision of perfect transformed into Nick. After their second kiss in Langham Park, she could only think of him as Nick. With a start, she sat up straighter. The man wouldn’t leave her alone even in her daydreams.
The morning had brought Claire’s warning into a new light. With surprising speed, Nick had left her last night to face Claire alone. He couldn’t wait to escape her company and didn’t give her a proper leave. What would a proper good-bye consist of in their situation? How do you say good night after leaving a lady with her mind muddled from kisses?
He’d been masterful at dinner when he took up the proverbial arms and had come to fight beside her against Will. Never would she have imagined Nick willing to assist her as she’d argued vehemently for her belief in a woman’s right to participate equally in politics—all without a hint of criticism or chastisement for her convictions.
He relished his isolation and encouraged society’s opinion of him as an enigma. Granted, his looks were near perfect and his manners gentle and kind, but there was so much more to him than what he allowed others to see. Some considered him nothing more than an avaricious man of trade who raided and plundered others’ inability to make a fair bargain. But his talent to ferret out opportunity while others saw nothing was a true gift. London had ridiculed his purchase of merchant ships to set up trade routes to the States and Lower Canada as the height of foolishness. Yet he had turned it into one of the most profitable businesses ever to sail from London.
Others, particularly women, regarded him as a mystery that begged to be solved.
She saw him for what he was—a treacherous man.
She had always prided herself on the ability to resist the charms of any gentleman. Yet whenever his heated gaze settled on her, she became lost, and her thoughts would scatter like leaves in a fall gust. There was a promise of something in his eyes, as if he held a secret that could shatter her world and highly organized convictions.
When his bold attention focused solely on her, it was deeper than a glance or a look. It reached somewhere hidden inside her heart and mind. He was like a gravitational force, and she was helpless, caught in his orbit. Dangerous was too tame to describe him.
Sweet kisses and gentle caresses were one thing. Without much effort on his part, he could bend her willpower and break it in pieces with one rapacious look. She’d do well to remember that simple fact.
Emma embraced the bright sunshine and closed her eyes. Time to put her thoughts of the Earl of Somerton to rest. She wanted to savor every single moment of her day without any distractions. Everything she hoped to accomplish in Portsmouth was before her.
* * *
The irresistible smell of apples, cinnamon, and butter wafted through the breakfast room of Pembrooke’s town house, and Nick inhaled deeply. Tarts were his weakness. “Are those apple tarts? I didn’t see them on the buffet.”
Alex looked up from his paper. “Daphne’s not here, so there aren’t any. She and Emma left this morning to visit a friend. They’ll return tomorrow.”
A young maid passed by the doorway holding a plate of the hot, fragrant confections. She took the stairs to the family’s quarters, an odd destination since Claire and the nurse had taken Lord Truesdale, Alex’s heir, and Lady Margaret, for a walk.
Nick’s gut tightened. No one else should have been upstairs in the family quarters. Besides, the tarts were Daphne’s favorite.
“I found the pies.” Nick motioned for Alex to follow.
“Your hunt for sweets is a little obsessive.” With a sigh, Alex stood.
Both silently followed the maid upstairs. Oblivious, she entered Daphne’s room briefly, murmured a greeting, and then closed the door sans tarts without passing a glance in their direction.
Alex took the lead and silently opened Daphne’s door. She had her back to the them and sat at her desk with a full breakfast tray and a tower of steaming tarts. Before she brought one to her mouth, Alex intercepted her wrist with his hand.
“What—” Her gaze snapped to her brother’s. “What are you doing here?” Daphne’s face grew deathly pale.
“That’s my question.” Alex elevated one eyebrow. “Think of something else to ask.”
“I’m a little under the weather.” She sniffed.
“I’d not realized tarts were a cure for colds,” huffe
d Alex.
Her silence screamed things were awry.
“Let’s continue this in my library, now. Somerton, join us?” As he escorted her through the house, Alex held Daphne’s forearm much the same way he grasped his son’s and daughter’s arms to insure they didn’t flee. He released his grip once they reached the library door. With a wave of his hand, Alex invited his sister to enter first. The skirt of her silk dress brushed against her brother’s leg and a spark of static electricity snapped like a portent of the blaze that would surely erupt once the door was shut.
After he clicked the lock, Nick turned and faced the interior of the room. The silent communication between the two siblings held the drama of a well-played card game. Alex raised a haughty eyebrow and stared at his sister, daring her to speak. Daphne matched him, tapped her foot, and added a smirk for effect.
At an impasse, Alex broke the silence. “Does Mother know you’re not where you said you’d be? If she did, I doubt she’d have traveled to Bath today to take the waters. You told us all you were spending the next two days at Miss Cassandra Fuller’s house with Emma.”
As Daphne’s resistance crumbled like last week’s biscuits, she lifted her face to the ceiling and closed her eyes. After a moment, her gray eyes, identical in their piercing color to her brother’s, opened to glare at both of them.
“As a ruse to protect Emma’s travel plans, I was going to stay in my room for two days.” With a heavy sigh, she started her negotiations. “Promise not to inform Mother? Otherwise, I’ll not say another word. She’ll tell the duchess.”
After a tense moment, Alex nodded.
“Emma is on her way to Portsmouth in Claire’s carriage.” With a defiant throw of her head, Daphne crossed her arms. “She plans to spend two nights and be back the day after tomorrow.”
Nick’s unease ignited into a full blaze of anger. “To get the pirate’s diary? When did she leave?”
Alex gave a bewildered look first to Somerton, then to Daphne. “Pirate’s diary?”
“Calm down, Somerton,” Daphne scolded. “What pirate’s diary?”
“The bookshop owner, Mr. Goodwin, told me she was after some diary of a pirate queen named Anne Readington.” His heartbeat drummed in an uneasy staccato rhythm. How could Emma do this after he’d specifically warned her not to try such a folly? “I directed Goodwin to buy it for me. I planned to give it to her in lieu of her traveling to Portsmouth.”
“Somerton…” Daphne’s voice softened as she shook her head. “She’s gone to convince Lady Aulton’s maid to return to London with her.”
“Lady Lena Aulton?” Alex blew out a breath. “That explains some things.”
“Why the maid?” Nick was well aware of the rumors surrounding Aulton and the recent death of his wife, but he’d never given much thought to it after Alex suggested Aulton was ready to marry again.
Daphne clasped her arms around her waist and exhaled. “Emma wants a witness to Lena’s death to come forward. She believes the lady’s maid saw everything. The maid was so distraught after Lena’s death she sent all the countess’s unposted correspondence to Emma as a safe measure. The countess was convinced her husband would likely kill her before the baby was born.”
Nick tilted his head to the ceiling to keep from roaring like a beast. Why didn’t Emma confide in him? If he hadn’t been such an arse about Portsmouth, perhaps she would have trusted him enough to tell him her plans.
Alex pursed his brows. “Does McCalpin know where she is?”
“She wrote to him.” Daphne’s piercing gray eyes narrowed. “Somerton, how do you know about it? She only told me of her plans a couple of days ago.”
“She was at Goodwin’s with only her maid in attendance. When she wouldn’t tell me her purpose, it took little persuasion on my part for Goodwin to spill. Apparently, he thought a fib would lead me off her trail. Our Lady Emma is quite cozy with Mr. Goodwin.”
Alex’s mouth tilted upward in a half smile. “Did I hear correctly? Our Lady Emma?”
Nick waved him off. His ridiculous badgering could wait.
“When did you see her at Goodwin’s?” Alex asked Nick.
Nick propped a hip against the massive oak table that commanded the center of the room. “The day of Lady Emory’s ball. I told her to forget Portsmouth and went so far as to threaten I’d tell the duke.”
In his typical headstrong manner, Alex’s anger erupted like a volcano, always later than expected. “Daphne, you didn’t stop her or tell anyone? My God, Aulton’s home is within thirty minutes of Portsmouth. If he catches wind of her real purpose, he’ll likely do anything to her.”
Daphne threw back her head in defiance. “What could Aulton possibly do to Emma?”
Alex, smooth as a panther stalking his prey, approached his sister, never taking his eyes from hers. Daphne was taller than most women, but Alex towered over her. “In a major thoroughfare of London six months ago, he beat his horse until the poor creature had to be destroyed,” he whispered. “The wretched beast’s only crime? It lost a shoe and stumbled, causing Aulton to fall to the ground. Can you now imagine what could happen if he feels threatened by Emma?”
Daphne paced in front of them. “Don’t lecture me. She’s … alone at the Ruby Crown Inn. Her maid woke extremely ill this morning. Emma wouldn’t hear of taking Arial with her. She said the poor woman looked like death. She wouldn’t take me or anyone else. Just Harry. She thought the fewer people who knew, the less chance of discovery.”
Emma was on her way to Portsmouth, and he needed to make sense of Daphne’s explanation. What if she found herself stranded? What if some disreputable dandy, or worse, Aulton, stopped to offer his help? The instinct to pound his chest and roar his displeasure detonated with a force he could barely contain. He focused on his breathing. Succumbing to such primitive antics would not help now. Later was another story.
“Do you mean she only has that old man for protection?” Alex had moved to the front of the fireplace, and his voice boomed across the room. “He should have retired years ago.”
Daphne retreated to the window. “Harry will protect her. She’s always been a favorite.”
Alex wiped his hand over his face. “Go to the family salon. We’re not finished yet.”
“You’re not my keeper.” Daphne tilted her head and stared out the window.
“As head of this family, what I say is law.” His words echoed off the walls and surrounded them. “Don’t tempt me to find a husband for you this upcoming Season. I promise my choice will not be to your liking.”
“I now understand Emma’s point entirely. I should have escaped with her.” She held her head high and her back straight as she left the room.
The door closed, and Nick broke the tension that blanketed the room. “That was harsh even by your standards. She’s your sister, for God’s sake.”
“Yes, and I plan to keep her and Emma safe. Both believe they’re above all rebuke. Someone has to go to Portsmouth before she finds real trouble and before her father finds out.” Alex continued, “I promised Claire I’d take her to a charity function tonight. Would you mind escorting her? If I leave now, I’ll arrive in Portsmouth before night falls.”
“Let me go after Emma. It would appear odd if you’re not with Claire tonight. Besides, I feel responsible. I should have told you or Langham what I suspected.”
Alex nodded. “I appreciate you jumping into the middle of this. If there’s anything I can do, just name it.”
“Are you going to inform the duke and duchess?” Nick exhaled. Emma’s parents would be livid over her actions. After everything she’d suffered over the last several months, he didn’t want her punished. Yet he feared that would be the case, and he’d be the cause once again.
Alex paused. “No. I’ll send word to McCalpin and see if I can find William with the news. I’ll ask they not get the duke and duchess involved.”
Relieved, Nick would do his damnedest to get her back to London before her parents disco
vered what she’d done. “I expect to leave within the hour. I’ll keep you informed.”
Alex escorted Nick to the entry hall where a footman gave Nick assistance with his greatcoat. With two steps, Nick was outside, and a groomsman held the reins of his mount.
Impatient to depart, Nick’s black stallion Proteus stomped the ground. When Nick mounted the horse and settled into the saddle, the beast’s gait turned into a full gallop before given a command. Time became a demanding mistress. He couldn’t afford to spend a night from his work, let alone two days chasing Emma. If all went as planned, he’d make it to Portsmouth before nightfall. He’d find her, and they’d return early tomorrow. Then he should brush his hands of the whole affair and the Duke of Langham’s troublesome daughter.
Much to his dismay, the thought brought little or no comfort. The fault of Emma’s travel to Portsmouth lay at his door—all of it. He shouldn’t have left her alone last night until he’d gotten her promise. Her entire travel could’ve been circumvented. More importantly, if anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
Of all the damn things he’d seen in his life, this one topped them all—Emma, alone in Portsmouth, determined to secure a lady’s maid’s testimony to bring a murderer to justice. She was a danger unto herself.
In addition, a danger to his self-control. Claire had almost caught them kissing last night. Strange … instead of the usual prickles of unease at the thought of matrimony, something else had taken up residence, but he wasn’t certain what it was.
Marriage to Emma wouldn’t ruin his life. He’d always found he’d preferred her company to the other Cavenshams, or any woman for that matter. Her gentle laugh and wit drew him to her as if she was a light or a compass designed to help him, and only him, find his way back.
But back from what? He had no idea what the journey was. He sounded like a lovesick fool with his musings. He had everything he needed in life, but he forced himself to face the truth. He wanted her.
The Bride Who Got Lucky Page 10