Emma stood and turned to see the cause of the commotion. Mrs. Parker followed at a slower pace.
Handsome to a fault, a resolute Nick stood in all his glory. His stance revealed a sheer stubborn determination. Her heart stumbled in its regular rhythm, always the same effect when she saw him. However, today, the fierceness lining his face was breathtaking. He reminded Emma of an archangel prepared to slay every enemy in his path.
When his gaze fell to hers, the storm of fury that swirled around him immediately calmed to an unusual air of haughtiness. He inspected the room quickly before his attention once again returned to her. “Lady Emma, was there a misunderstanding? I believe we were to converse first thing this morning.”
“My lord,” Emma whispered. “I—”
“I informed Lord Somerton that the pirate’s diary is wrapped and waiting for him.” Mr. Parker wrinkled his nose with displeasure and a hint of smugness. “Apparently, he’s not done browsing our selections.”
“I’m not here for a bloody diary, or any other damn book,” Nick growled.
“Mr. Parker, he’s with me,” Emma added quickly to diffuse the confrontation. “Thank you for your concern, but I invited Lord Somerton to join me this morning.”
Mr. Parker waited until Mrs. Parker nodded her head. “It’s fine, Henry.”
At his wife’s reassurance, Mr. Parker stood down, and everything seemed to calm at once.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Nick asked, his voice smooth but detached. The warmth and friendship they’d shared last night seemed a distant memory next to this imperious man and his frigid demeanor. With a hardened gaze, he inspected her.
At this point, it made little difference whether he found her lacking or not. Her own confidence had already plummeted. She nodded and gathered her things. She couldn’t blame him for his bitter regard, but this distance between them hurt worse than she cared to admit.
“Mrs. Parker, your information has been beneficial.” She grasped the woman’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you for everything.”
Mrs. Parker dipped her head in answer. “I hope to see you again, my lady.”
Emma walked to Nick’s side. He held his arm to escort her as if it was a command. No matter how difficult, they had to address his disturbing mood before they went to the Sykeston home. She couldn’t let either of them alarm Mary Butler.
“Where’s Bess and Harry?” Emma allowed Nick to lead her into the shop area.
“I sent them back to the inn.” He bit out the words.
“I have to settle my bill with the Parkers.” It was doubtful she could gracefully handle an obviously angry Earl of Somerton and keep the slim tether on her own composure. It was stretched to its limit from the revelations in the coroner’s findings. She reached into her reticle and retrieved a coin.
“I’ve already taken care of it. Come, let’s go,” he demanded. He took her elbow and led her out toward the door.
“I’ll reimburse you.” Under no circumstances would she be beholden to him—not today. Her efforts had to be under her own resolve and resources. She owed that to Lena.
He shook his head. “No, consider it a redress for my behavior.”
“It’s obvious you were worried.” She chanced a glance at his face. By the tight line of his lips, he was furious.
“No, you misunderstand,” he answered. “It’s for my future behavior.”
Before she could ask what he meant, Mrs. Parker interrupted. “My lady, one more thing. Lord Aulton’s housekeeper is Mary Butler’s mother. She’s still at his estate.”
Emma clenched Nick’s forearm to keep from falling to the floor.
Mary still had ties to Aulton.
* * *
Nick’s relief at finding Emma had collapsed the anxiety that had built a fortress inside his chest. Finally, he could breathe easy. Every place he thought to find her this morning had turned up with nothing. The bookshop owner, Mr. Parker, had been deceptively helpful, but explained he hadn’t seen her departure. Nick left the store and scoured the docks to see if she’d stopped there. He’d even knocked on Sykeston’s door, but there had been no answer. He’d circled back to the bookshop. Once inside, he heard her dulcet tones through the door and realized she’d been there the entire time.
The bloody shopkeeper had sent him on a wild goose chase. The deception had sent his anger spiraling. Images of her hurt or accosted had caused him to suffer a blinding headache. When he saw her standing beside Mrs. Parker, his turbulent world settled, and magically, his headache had disappeared. However, his anger still smoldered.
The street crawled with venders selling everything from roasted chestnuts and wine to apples and tarts. His stomach growled at the lack of breakfast. They stopped before one vender’s cart, and he purchased two cherry tarts, a fair consolation since the apple tarts had sold out hours before. When Nick offered Emma one of the pies, she shook her head politely.
With one bite, he demolished half of the first pastry. Emma rewarded him with a smile so uninhibited he would have sworn the entire street grew quiet at the sight. The only thing he heard was the blood swooshing through his ears. However, if Emma thought the gesture would insure she escaped his wrath, she’d underestimated him.
“You didn’t dine on tea and toast this morning? I thought my note would encourage you to master the fine art of cooking for one’s self,” she quipped.
Nick swallowed the last bite of the first pie before he choked on her sweetness. Her innocent provocation piqued his already simmering anger. “I had more important matters on my mind. Namely, finding you.”
She bent her head, and a slight blush colored her cheeks. He steered them to a quiet alley away from the bustle of the people attending to their everyday business. He towered over her, forcing her to lean against the wall in retreat.
“You promised me we’d discuss what happened with Aulton last night. I wake up and you’re out for the day? You could’ve found real danger, and I had no way of knowing what kind or who would be after you.” He stepped closer until a hand’s breadth separated them. “To me, a broken promise is akin to a breach of honor.”
Her eyes narrowed, and a slight tick appeared below one eye.
“You slept so soundly. I asked you to come with me last night, and you didn’t answer. I assumed you didn’t want any part of my plans,” she offered in protest.
“That was before I discovered you were hurt,” he snapped. “You should have waited for me before you paraded and flitted your way across town.”
The normal creamy pink of her cheeks darkened to a startling crimson color. “For your information, I don’t flit, frolic, parade, or even gambol when I have important matters to attend. Can I help it you need your beauty sleep?” Her critical gaze perused his body from his boots to the top of his head. “Perhaps you should have stayed abed for another hour or so.”
“Are you mocking me for trying to keep you safe? Your family sent me to bring you back.” He’d laugh if he wasn’t so angry. She was deliberately annoying him and, much to his chagrin, succeeding. “What are you trying to prove? You’re the grand Lady Emma Cavensham who can have any man quaking in his boots? Well, your wiles won’t work on me.”
By now, their respective outrage had them both breathing hard. Almost nose to nose, she stared straight through him. Enhanced by flashes of her ire, Emma’s eyes had darkened into an extraordinary color that reminded him of malachite.
“Fine. You want me to tell you about Aulton? Last night, Harry went to attend the horses and the carriage after dinner. I waited for him in the taproom. Aulton appeared out of nowhere after the innkeeper chased away his ruffians.” Her fury high, she continued without a breath. “If I didn’t stay away, he threatened to bring stealing charges against me and Mary for the letters she’d sent me after Lena’s death. As a farewell, he grabbed my wrist and twisted, thus causing the bruises. Now, if you think I’ll leave that poor maid vulnerable to that man, then you don’t know me very well. Further, I’m not going hom
e until I’m ready.”
“Fine,” he mimicked. “You don’t have to go home to Langham Hall. Go to Pembrooke’s. Either way, you will not stay here. Your little party is over. The inn is full, as they say. You can either walk or ride back to London. I don’t care if you’re seated on a horse or sitting in a carriage. You’re going back to London. Now.”
Without realizing it, he was pointing at her with the remaining tart, using it in lieu of his finger. She grabbed his hand and forcefully bit the tart in two. The act of defiance was so blatant he could only stare.
“It’s still warm.” The little vixen closed her eyes and moaned at the taste.
If in that moment, the heavens had opened up in a rainstorm, he’d wouldn’t have noticed. The expression on her face bewitched him. That simple joy from the taste of the tart transformed her from an angry, beautiful woman to a Greek goddess. Her moan invaded every part of him. As a mere mortal, he had no defense against her assault. It was the most sensual act he’d ever witnessed. As if he needed to suffer further, a spot of cherry filing clung to the beauty spot above her lip.
“Allow me.” He took off his glove and with his bare thumb wiped the sweetness from above her mouth.
Her breath caught at his bold touch, and she eyed him warily. Then in typical Emma Cavensham fashion, she did the unexpected. She brought his thumb to her mouth and sucked the fresh fruit off his finger. Her tongue, hot and wet, slid against his skin. Immediately, every nerve in his body went on alert. Gently, she let him go while her eyes captured his. Her simple act caused an unwelcomed chain reaction as his throat tightened and his cock thickened to attention. This had to be what it felt like to be hit by a bolt of lightning—aware of your surroundings but completely unable to move or speak.
His mind wrestled enough control from the renegade response of his body to sweep a glance at their surroundings. Not a single person had frozen in shock or seemed aghast at her action. No one had given them any notice at all—a complete surprise since the volatile antipathy between them could have started a war.
“Well, I think we’ve accomplished quite a lot, don’t you?” Her meek and docile tone would have disarmed most men to think the storm had passed.
He knew better.
“We’ve established you’re a proper, not to mention honorable, unmitigated arse,” she announced.
Without waiting for his reply, she executed a brisk turn, one that would have made any infantryman envious, and then marched away. Her brown wool pelisse snapped like a flag caught in a high wind on the battlefield. Nick couldn’t help but admire the ramrod straightness of her posture and smiled at the feminine sway of her hips. It completely ruined her performance.
With a deep breath that flared his nostrils, he closed his eyes in an effort to gain control. It didn’t calm matters when his mind reeled with thoughts of sex and Emma at the same time. Once back in London, he planned to carry her in his arms and dump her in the nearest chair once he entered Pembrooke’s study. Let her family deal with her. He’d had enough of Emma Cavensham to last him a lifetime.
Once he grappled his comportment into a calm state, he followed. The furious pace of her stride was no match for his long legs, and he caught her before she turned the corner at the end of the street. With little surprise, the Ruby Crown was in the opposite direction.
“The inn is that way.” He gently grasped her arm to turn her direction south.
“You may think me an addlepated virago, but I’m aware of the inn’s location.” With an evasive move, she stepped away from his reach. “I’m going to Lena’s.”
Again, he took her arm, but this time he turned her to the east. “Lord Sykeston’s home is this way.”
“Oh.” She stumbled, apparently flustered. “Thank you.”
All he could manage was a nod. With her mood, he’d follow her anywhere.
Just in case she found the shore, he had little doubt she’d walk to France under water.
Chapter Eleven
The urge to pace made Emma tap her feet in a syncopated rhythm. She sat in a low coquelicot-colored brocade chair that reminded her of a field filled with red poppies. She’d purposely picked it since it was in the center of the neat sitting room. The low height would lend an easier position to look Mary Butler directly in the eyes since the maid was slight in stature and not as tall as Emma.
Nick stood a polite distance behind. With his height, the confounded man surrounded her with his presence.
The unencumbered truth was he gave her courage, something she sorely needed at this point. Even though this visit wasn’t the only reason she came to Portsmouth, it was the most important. Whatever it took, she would succeed in convincing Mary to return to London with her. For some reason, with Nick by her side, it didn’t seem like such a daunting task.
She made a quick half turn in her chair and caught his attention. He answered with a grin. It completely divested her of any remaining displeasure. She hoped his anger had melted too, as she hated it when they were at odds with each other. His fortitude inspired her, and she took it without reservation. With that strength, she wouldn’t give way to tears, even if this was one of the most painful days of her life.
The door opened. The butler, Mr. North, and Mary entered together.
“Lady Emma, it’s delightful to see you at Sykeston House.” Mr. North, a man in his early seventies, peered down at her. His normal off-putting frown had transformed into a smile that lined his thin cheeks. His hazel eyes seemed to twinkle in amusement. “Lord Sykeston will be sorely distressed to have missed this visit.”
“It’s good to be back, Mr. North.” She stood slowly. “Hello, Mary.”
“Ma’am.” Mary curtsied with her gaze lowered.
“May I introduce you both to the Earl of Somerton?” Emma asked.
The butler bowed and Mary bobbed another curtsey, this one deeper, causing the maid to flush and shrink into herself.
“Lord Somerton is my…” Good heavens, how was she to introduce him? Her what? There was no defining what he was to her. “Family friend” sounded too innocuous, and insulted them both. He was definitely more than a friend. Never before had she faced a dilemma of this sort. She’d witnessed her friends stumble much like she was now when they introduced their sweethearts or soon-to-be fiancés. He was nothing of the sort. Her gaze shot to Nick, and he smiled.
“I’m a good friend to Lady Emma,” he added in a clear, compassionate voice. His rescue was perfect as both Mr. North and Mary visibly relaxed.
“Mary, do you want me to stay?” Mr. North discreetly asked.
The maid shook her head in response.
The butler nodded, then addressed Emma. “My lady, Lord Sykeston will be home in two to three weeks. He suffered an injury that dictates he forgo any further service to the crown.” The loyal servant bowed his head. After a moment, he sniffed and drew to his full height. “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but I believe Lord Sykeston would greatly appreciate a visit at your convenience.”
“I’d like that, too.” Emma’s chest tightened at the words. The poor Sykeston family had endured so much over the years. Lena’s parents had passed away of an illness more than ten years ago, then Lena and her baby’s deaths, and now her brother’s injury. How much could a family take before every root in the proverbial tree was torn asunder?
“I’ll take my leave. Ring if you need anything.” The butler gave a brisk bow and left, closing the door softly behind him.
“Mary, come sit next to me,” Emma coaxed.
The young girl made her way cautiously toward Emma in a route that kept her from going anywhere close to Nick. As if sensing the maid’s distrust, he sat on the only sofa in the room, which put him a good distance away from her and Emma.
The maid took a seat next to Emma and neatly clasped her hands in her lap. “It’s so good to see you, my lady. I’ve missed the times when you and Lady Lena would spend the days together. She was always so happy around you.”
“Lady Aul
ton was everything lovely and a steadfast friend—”
“In this house, my lady, we refer to her as Lady Lena,” the maid interrupted. Then, as if realizing she had misspoken, she bowed her head. “I apologize.”
Emma reached over and clasped the girl’s hands with hers. “There’s no need, Mary. To me, she’ll always be Lena. That’s the way I think—no, I’m sure—that’s the way she would like for us to remember her.”
Mary looked up and smiled with the telltale glisten of tears brightening her eyes. If she blinked, they would fall.
“Mary…” With her own ability to offer comfort completely unraveling, Emma hesitated. “Did … did she suffer?”
“Aye, ma’am.” Mary bent her head once more, but gathered enough strength to look Emma in the eye. “She was badly injured. She survived the birth, but the blood…” The maid lost her fight, and her tears fell freely, streaking her pale skin. “He wouldn’t allow anyone to call a doctor. My mum, his own housekeeper, went to his study and begged. He told her he’d dismiss her without references if she disobeyed.”
Somehow, Nick had made his way to Mary’s side and handed her his handkerchief. A solemn grin eased across Emma lips. Trust Nick to be duly equipped with the embroidered cloths. He was a man unabashedly ready to extend incredible kindness to others, and she’d been wicked to him earlier. Her own tears started to gather as she witnessed his gentleness with Mary.
If she wasn’t careful, he would steal her heart, the very one she’d fought so hard to protect against all others. In answer, the unfaithful organ pounded its approval of his endearing offer of kindness to a woman unknown to him, but so obvious in need of his help.
“Lord Aulton had come to escort Lady Lena to dinner. I stayed in her bedroom. I heard her cry out, and I dashed to see what had happened.” Mary pressed her eyes closed and clenched her fists. “He stood at the top looking over the balustrade. She’d fallen down the steps and landed on her belly.” The maid took a deep breath. “After her baby was delivered, she begged me to send her letters to you. She told me you’d know what to do with them. I think she understood she wouldn’t survive.…”
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