The Bride Who Got Lucky

by Janna MacGregor

  * * *

  “Good morning, McCalpin. William. What a lovely surprise.” Emma’s voice verged on a note between laughter and hysteria. She tried to behave as if nothing was amiss and it was perfectly natural she was alone with a man in her room. Any good luck she possessed had abandoned her in favor of the early coach back to London.

  The pain in her chest, the result of her fight with Nick, hurt but was no match for the terror she experienced at the sight of her brothers. She needed time to come up with an explanation for why Nick was with her.

  “Did he put you up to this?” McCalpin eyes roamed over her face as if he sought the crack within her façade. “Tell me.”

  “No. It was all my idea. Lord Somerton is returning to London today. I’m not certain of my plans.”

  The weighted tension in the room had escalated to the point it felt as if a fifth person was present. Will and Nick glared at each other.

  Nick’s eyes flashed, but remarkably, his demeanor remained calm. “I assure you Lady Emma’s welfare and safety were my only priorities during her stay.”

  Will bit out a bark of laughter. “We just saw your regard for her welfare.”

  Best to diffuse the situation if she started with Will. In two strides, she was beside him with her hand on his arm to draw attention away from Nick. “For my sake, leave it be.”

  Will focused on where she’d grasped his arm before he stared at her much like a kestrel before it spiraled into a strike. Calm and in complete control, he placed his hand over hers. “Only if you tell us what happened,” he whispered. “Why are you alone and in his arms?”

  Nick chose that moment to step forward and growled, “You’re her brother. Why weren’t you here? I’ll tell—”

  “All right, I’ll tell you.” Emma shot Nick a glance that was a plea to let her continue. If he said another word, the brawl of the century would break out. “I came to see Lena’s maid and ask her to come work for me. Nick came after me to escort me home. What you witnessed was simple. I got lost in my emotions for a moment.”

  A crooked smile crept across McCalpin’s face, and he turned his attention to Nick. “Not like you, Nick, to risk matrimony.” He turned to her without a trace of animosity. “I don’t see a way out of this. You’ll have to marry him.”

  Time stood suspended as her heart stopped. She swallowed. “Marry?”

  McCalpin’s sincerity was real. Throughout her childhood, he’d never been cruel to her. Nor had he ever teased her unmercifully when they were younger. Many would not believe it, but he’d always gone out of his way to inquire about her life and interests. Even though he was her brother, she considered him a friend.

  All three men held unspeakable power over her at this moment. If her parents found out about Portsmouth, or God help her, last night, they’d be devastated. What choice did she have but to ask her brothers to keep her secret? “There’s another way. If you don’t tell father or mother, we won’t have to marry. Somerton won’t say a word.”

  Nick’s thunderous gaze was directed at her when he lifted a brow. “You know me well enough by now. I’ll not lie if asked.”

  * * *

  One of floorboards creaked under Nick’s weight, and the sound broke what little peace had existed between the four of them.

  “Somerton, you’re a dead man.” Will’s threat was low and deadly. There was no mistaking the venom in his voice.

  “I would consider it my good fortune if you decide to do it yourself. It’d be a pleasure to teach you a lesson in manners.” Nick kept his gaze locked on Will. If one surly smile was directed his way, he’d punch the reprobate.

  Emma stepped in front of him. “Enough,” she whispered, her words loud enough to draw Will’s attention to her.

  Maybe she was wiser than he thought. The ramifications of her trip now involved her whole family.

  Emma tilted her chin and faced William. “How did you know I was here?”

  If she hadn’t been standing so close, Nick would have missed the slight tremble in her voice.

  Will adjusted his stance and held out his hand. “McCalpin sent word after hearing from Alex. Once I got the note … Emmy—”

  She didn’t take the hand he offered. “And what?”

  “I’m sorry.” Her brother’s eyes softened. “I informed father.”

  Her soft gasp hit Nick like a punch to his midsection. As sure as he breathed, all he wanted at that moment was to reassure her they’d weather this storm together. Even if he risked her brothers’ wrath, he took her hand and squeezed. When she returned the squeeze, he wanted to sweep her into his arms. Brothers present or not.

  Will grimaced. “What was I to do? What if you were hurt? I had no idea what I’d find when I arrived.” He sneered at Nick. “It’s worse than I imagined.”

  “Alex sent Nick—” She caught herself before she revealed anymore. “Alex sent Somerton to bring me back.”

  Will’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “And not me, your own brother?”

  “After our last dinner together? I doubt if anyone would have believed you’d be willing to cross the street on my behalf.”

  A grin tugged at one side of William’s mouth. “Ah well, if Mr. Clayton’s leopard was on the other side, perhaps I wouldn’t have crossed the street for you. But nothing would have kept me away from here and ensuring you were safe.” His gaze focused on her, completely ignoring Nick and McCalpin. “Truly, did he—”

  “No, Will. He came on behalf of Pembroke. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

  Nick almost choked on her words.

  The only way he could describe the last several days with Emma was enchanting. Even facing her two irate brothers, he would do it all over again. McCalpin and Will were quite concerned with their sister—worried enough to risk violence on her behalf. Their love was a testament to the strength of her family. When William’s fury turned to genuine concern, he’d redeemed himself in Nick’s eyes. The man truly loved his sister.

  As an only child, such emotion was foreign to him, but for the Cavenshams it was an ordinary occurrence. He dropped Emma’s hand. The loss of her fingers beneath his signaled the end of their time alone with each other.

  He had been quite satisfied with his own company before Portsmouth. Now loneliness stole through him, robbing him of all contentment. At the end of the day, he’d miss her smile, her straightforwardness, the wisps of golden curls that would eventually escape from her hair, her laugh, the perfect dark spot next to her lips that enhanced her creamy skin, and most of all, her intelligence. Simply put, he’d miss everything that made Lady Emma Cavensham spectacular.

  The thump inside his chest demanded more of her. “How” was the question. How to have her without ruining both their lives? He was so close to exceeding his father’s wealth. It was everything he’d worked for over the last twelve years, but to add the distraction of a wife could be a disaster.

  He breathed deep. But he couldn’t see returning to his old life.

  The trip home would provide some distance, a chance to allow rational thought to return. The morning was slipping away from them. “Shall we depart?”

  Emma started to protest, but Nick cut her off with a wave of a hand. “Harry’s had the horses ready for over twenty minutes. We’ll leave immediately. As you may surmise, we all have much to discuss.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The carriage creaked in protest as it rolled slightly to the side before straightening on the cobblestone drive. Nick pulled the curtain aside. Their journey would be finished within moments. Lost in her thoughts, Emma had been silent the entire way from Portsmouth. He’d tried to engage her at least ten times with little success. Every question or comment was met with a one-word response.

  McCalpin had ridden ahead to prepare the duke for their return. He’d intimated he’d try to forestall any hint of marriage. A sharp pain had twisted inside Nick’s chest robbing him of a proper thanks for the marquess’s efforts. All he had managed was a nod in acceptance. Will
had feigned sleep until they arrived in town. He’d directed Harry drop him off at White’s. Clearly he wanted nothing to do with the aftermath of Emma’s trip to Portsmouth.

  From a distance, Emma’s father stood with his feet apart and hands behind his back. The vehicle moved toward the carriage house, and the pain in her eyes grew evident. They only had another few minutes alone. He caressed her face, and she allowed his touch without a quibble. She even leaned slightly toward him as if seeking strength.

  “Courage, Em,” he said. Besides her fortitude, he needed luck to face Langham and walk away intact. In a scenario only a playwright could create, he was about to deliver her home with an elderly groomsman driving and her brother not even bothering to play chaperon on the ride back. Guilt chiseled his conscience when he remembered last night. If he ever considered himself a true gentleman, he should have convinced her to marry him during their trip back. Her brother’s presence be damned.

  The softness of her skin provided the impetus to blurt the words he should have uttered last night. “Marry me.”

  Her wide-eyed gaze jerked to his and she stared, speechless. He swallowed the panic threatening to refute the offer.

  Before the carriage came to rest, the duke entered in one fluid motion and closed the door. “Puss.” The low rumble of his voice filled the space. Langham studied his daughter, not making a move. When her lip trembled, his ducal reserve fled and he swept her in his arms. His hand wrapped around her head, and he tucked her close to his heart. “You’re home.”

  Without letting her go, the duke swung his gaze to Nick. “Have Pitts escort you to my study.”

  “Papa—” Her voice cracked.

  “Hush.” The duke brought his mouth to the top of Emma’s head. “Your mother is waiting.”

  Their tender moment caused Nick to look away. Yesterday proved he was a colossal fool. He’d been the one to comfort her until he’d cast her aside. Now, once again, he was an outsider looking in—nothing more than an intruder in their exchange. He had to escape. Thankfully, the duke put his torture to an end. In an instant, Langham was outside and lent a hand to assist Emma to the back entrance.

  She glanced back, her eyes shining with unshed emotion. If his damn heart split in two, it would hurt less than what he was experiencing at seeing her upset. The intense crushing pain was what he’d always tried to avoid. He blew out a breath. He had no place for any of this in his life.

  After Emma entered the house, Langham returned to the carriage and delivered a cold stare. “Don’t make me wait for you.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace.” For the first time in his life, Nick experienced something tantamount to a noose tied around his neck.

  With little ceremony, he followed the duke through the servants’ entrance where the ubiquitous Langham family butler, Pitts, waited to escort him to the duke’s inner sanctum. When the study door opened, Alex stood in the middle of the room with McCalpin by his side.

  “Somerton.” Alex extended a glass of whisky.

  Nick took the glass and collapsed in a chair facing the fire where Alex and McCalpin stood.

  “Tell us before Langham comes in,” Alex said with a quick nod.

  “I found Emma with Harry tagging along and brought her home.” Nick drank the smoky contents in one swallow. The liquid fire burned his throat, but it wasn’t enough. He held out the glass for a refill. “McCalpin and Lord William found us. Not surprisingly, William wanted to tear my head off.”

  After Alex poured another two fingers of the amber spirit, he raised one eyebrow. “Is there a need for a special license?”

  An unholy growl emerged from McCalpin, warning Nick to be careful in his answers. He choked on his second swallow and barely managed to keep the contents in his mouth. He slammed his fist against the chair arm. “For God’s sake, Pembrooke.”

  “I should have known the answer is no. You’d never allow yourself to compromise Emma.” Alex examined him. “Besides, your head is still attached.”

  “It was tense for several moments, but Emma explained you sent me.” Nick traced the rim of the glass with his finger. Suddenly restless, he stood. “McCalpin, I owe you thanks for verifying it. Still, William wasn’t too happy.”

  McCalpin took a swig from his glass and, with an uncharacteristic appearance of umbrage, regarded Nick.

  “That’s not a surprise,” Alex said.

  The lingering pain of her denial to her brothers that nothing important happened in Portsmouth still left a gaping hole inside. “Just now, I asked her to marry me.”

  All the color drained from Alex’s face. “What?”

  McCalpin set his drink down on the table. “Why did you do that? I’ve already talked to my father. Nothing will come of it.”

  “You found me in her room at the Ruby Crown. It’s important I do the right thing. We were preparing—”

  “Don’t worry about William.” Langham’s entrance had been silent.

  Nick readied his stance for when the duke’s fist would meet his nose.

  “I just left Emma with Ginny. Perhaps her mother will make sense of this.” The duke exhaled his apparent frustration as he made his way to stand beside Alex. “The blame for Portsmouth lies directly with me. She’s just so … so unsettled.” The duke shook his head. “Somerton, you didn’t stand a chance when Pembrooke sent you to collect her. She’s too damn independent.”

  Alex handed the duke a glass.

  It was time to face Langham and his wrath. He took a deep breath.

  The duke downed half the contents and set the glass on the nearby table. With an unholy fire in his eyes, he slowly stalked toward Nick. His right hand shot out, and Nick prepared for the blow. Instead, the duke grabbed him by the shoulder as if thanking him.

  “She suffered a dreadful moment or two, but she’s safe.” Nick returned his stare. “Whatever is necessary to protect your daughter, I’ll do.” His gut clenched in a tangle of nerves. “If you’ll allow, I’d be honored to offer for Lady Emma.”

  Even though all four of them were of similar height, the duke’s presence overtook the room. Nick held what little ground he had while he waited for the duke’s verdict.

  “I’ll consider it.” Langham exhaled with a groan, the troubled sound poignant. He released Nick and stepped to the fire. “Pembrooke explained the situation to me. As you may have surmised, she’s headstrong and believes in her actions. I’ve taught her that, but I’m at my wit’s end. I should be the one to face the consequences, not you.”

  The expected relief at the duke’s statement was not forthcoming. Instead, a familiar hollowness breached his stalwart demeanor. “She’s an intelligent woman who has an uncanny talent to land on her feet. I’m not certain I provided much assistance to her.”

  The duke rubbed his hand down his face and turned to Nick. “My only complaint—either you or Pembrooke should have told me earlier.”

  “You have my sincerest apology, but I didn’t discover she’d left until it was too late.” It was best to accept responsibility and leave Langham Hall as soon as humanly possible.

  “Thank you, Somerton.” The duke extended his hand for Nick to shake.

  “There’s no need to thank me.” He took the offered hand, but the strength in the duke’s grasp wasn’t reassuring. “It’s the least I could do.”

  “I’ll take my leave.” The duke nodded and then finished his drink. “Ring for whatever you need.”

  “I’ll join you.” McCalpin started for the door after his father, then hesitated. His attention darted to Nick. “I care for my sister a great deal. You have my gratitude also.”

  After the footman closed the door behind McCalpin, Nick allowed his body to relax. “At least that’s one confrontation I don’t have to worry about. Any word leak about our travels to Portsmouth?” Nick didn’t bother to hide his bitterness.

  “No one outside the immediate family knows anything. The Langham servants are loyal.” Alex’s face displayed a mischievous interest. “You’re w
ound up tighter than your pocket-watch over Emma’s rescue.”

  The weariness that coursed through Nick’s body caused him to speak on impulse. “Nothing happened in Portsmouth.”

  “Reminds me of Queen Gertrude. ‘The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks.’” Alex threw his head back to the ceiling and laughed with delight. “Wait until I tell Claire.”

  * * *

  “Sweetheart, tell me what happened.” Her mother stroked her fingers through Emma’s hair.

  Barely aware of the chintz flower design, Emma lay in bed and stared at the canopy. “I think I lost Somerton’s friendship.” She turned away from her mother’s ministrations. “Plus, I’ve disappointed you and Father.”

  “Your father will be here shortly, and we’ll sort this out. Somerton may be angry now, but he’ll forgive you. He values you also.” As her mother slowly blinked, her lashes fanned across her cheeks. “After we arrived at Blanche’s, Will sent a note you were missing and asked if we’d come home. My God, when you weren’t here, the worry—” Small tears marked the places where her lashes had rested. “You look tired. Did you and Lord Somerton—”

  Emma quickly sat up. She forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes. “He asked me to marry him.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “How did you answer?”

  “I didn’t,” she whispered. The shock of Nick’s quickly spoken words still reeled inside her head and collided with all her well-established beliefs. “Father interrupted us.”

  Her mother raised one eyebrow. “He usually has the most impeccable timing.”

  Two sharp knocks sounded on the door. Arial answered and opened the door wide to admit her father.

  “Will you have a bath prepared for Lady Emma?” her mother asked. The maid left with nary a sound.

  Her father strolled purposely into the room. She’d dreaded this moment since leaving Portsmouth—facing her parents. Wary of her father’s response, Emma gave her best effort to guard the roll of emotions pressing through her. If she cried, he’d tear the house down.

  Her father sat next to her mother. With a slight smile, he gave a gentle pat to Emma’s leg. “Puss, remember when you tried to ride my best hunter? Somehow you managed to get a saddle on him and left before anyone was up.”