Wicked Designs

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Wicked Designs Page 24

by Lauren Smith


  He allowed himself to imagine a lifetime of nights during which Emily wound her warm body around his, and her hair spilled across his pillow like amber wheat. In his dreams she would always be there, his cunning little vixen. In a few years, babes in cradles would fill the empty ghost-ridden corners of his life, and he’d possess a family he’d never expected. He’d buy Emily a stable full of horses, a thousand hounds, whatever she desired.

  Emily shifted against him, stirring slightly. Godric pulled the covers up about them to keep her warm. Only when she was asleep could he savor her—the full breasts now pressed against his chest, and the smooth muscular thighs and calves. Those legs gripped him tightly about his hips whenever he mounted her. She was sweet…and real. Nothing like the sculpted perfection of Evangeline who never liked a hair out of place or a gown rumpled. She did not really live, not like Emily. He adored the way she embraced life.

  His hand slid up towards the juncture between her thighs. He slid a finger inside her, and she stirred again. Godric smiled, gently toying with her. She made that adorable sound of drugged pleasure. It took all of his willpower to stop teasing her and torturing himself. She needed sleep after the day she’d had.

  Emily nuzzled his chest, rubbing herself against him as she settled down again. It struck Godric then that this moment felt right, frighteningly right. Everything he’d ever known had changed when he’d put that unconscious young lady on her bed that first night. How could it be that she’d only entered his life less than a week ago? What would happen when they were forced to accept their situation? He didn’t want to think about it. His chest tightened and his fists clenched.

  The abduction of Emily Parr hadn’t changed just him. The League’s bond epitomized the hard love men shared with each other, but when it came to Emily, they were all helpless. Ashton admired Emily’s purity of soul, Charles her playfulness, Cedric her love of the outdoors, Lucien her cleverness, and Godric—he loved everything about her.

  The thought shocked him. If he could love all the things within a person, did that not mean he loved the person? The question plagued him.

  He ran a hand through Emily’s hair, coiling a silken tendril between his fingers. Never in all his years could he have expected such a creature, so different from him, to make him so happy. He lived to see her smile, to make her laugh, to kiss her. He wanted to spend all day reading with her, all night loving her. Find every ticklish spot and every place that made her moan and sigh. He wanted a life with her, but it wasn’t possible.

  “Godric?” Emily’s voice cut through his brooding. He hadn’t realized she was awake.

  “I’m sorry, darling, did I wake you?”

  “I am a light sleeper.” She raised her head a little, her violet eyes pale and silvery in the moonlight. “May I ask you something?”

  Godric fought the urge to smile. “Oh, I suppose.”

  “Ashton mentioned your father, and how he—”

  Godric’s smile faded. “How he disciplined me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?” His tone was harsher than he meant. The ache of that old wound still stung.

  Emily put a hand on his chest, right above his heart. “I am sorry he hurt you.”

  “That is not a question.”

  Her forehead creased. “No, I suppose not, but…but I wish he hadn’t hurt you. I don’t know how anyone could want to hurt you.” She pressed her lips down on his chest, in an enticing kiss. It was so pure in its affection, in its tenderness, that Godric’s throat tightened. He didn’t know how to tell her that her words meant everything to him.

  Instead, he wrapped his arms about her waist and slid her up several inches, to his mouth. Her lips parted. Her fingertips stroked his jaw, and she sighed contentedly.

  “I have another question,” she said at last. “A real one.”

  He was amused by the shrewd gleam in her eyes. “All right then, my dear, let’s hear it.”

  “When you and the others abducted me, how did you know I was in the carriage? I thought I’d fooled you with the false bottom of that seat…” She laid her palms flat on his chest and pushed up a little, which gave him a pleasing view of her breasts.

  “You had me quite fooled. Ashton, however, noticed a piece of your evening gown sticking out. He devised a plan to wait for you.” Godric grinned as the memory of that night flooded him, the adrenaline, the sheer exhilaration of chasing her, fighting her, capturing her…

  Emily frowned. “And what if I hadn’t gotten out of the carriage? I might have suffocated.”

  “I dare say it couldn’t have been airtight.” Godric tried to lift his hips, but Emily slid an inch out of reach.

  “Did you really have to use laudanum? I despised that.” She scowled now, which somehow resembled a puppy growl.

  “We used it at Ashton’s recommendation. We were worried you might scream for help.”

  “Why didn’t you just gag me?”

  “And have you squirm in my lap the entire way? You could have fallen and injured yourself.”

  “Your lap?” Her eyes were warm, but her nose wrinkled in consternation. “You carried me?”

  Godric tugged one a lock of her hair, winding it around his finger. “Absolutely. Once I set eyes on you, I refused to let any other man have responsibility for you. I wanted you all to myself, which, let me assure you, was quite a battle. I had to endure nearly an hour of Charles’s grousing. He’s a dreadfully sore loser.” Godric chuckled.

  Emily digested all of this in silence.

  “Did you plan on seducing me before you saw me?”

  That was a volatile question, and Godric decided the truth was best.

  “I only meant to ruin you by bringing you here, I didn’t really intend to physically er…ruin you. There was no thought of seduction until I put you on this very bed. You were so dirty and dusty from your attempts at escape, but when I set you down… I was entranced… I had to touch you…so I did.”

  “You did?”

  “Only a touch, I held your face in my hands. Your cheeks were covered in dirt and I rubbed it away. It took every bit of my self-control not to kiss you. That was when I knew you had bewitched me.”

  Emily was surprised, pleasantly so. She remembered little from that first night, but she had a vague memory that a handsome prince had stroked her face and nearly kissed her, a fanciful, fairytale dream, she’d thought.

  Emily slid off Godric and tucked herself up in the warmth of his embrace. Sharing a bed with him now made her realize how lonely she’d be tomorrow. There would be no good morning kisses, nor more quiet afternoons in his study. There wouldn’t be any warm masculine body to cuddle up to at night when shadows lengthened across her bed.

  Her love for him burned hotter and brighter each hour she spent with him, but that love would kill him if she didn’t leave. Blankenship’s men would arrive and there’d be bloodshed on all sides.

  She considered telling him the truth, telling him what Evangeline had said, but she couldn’t. He and the other lords were nothing if not prideful and stubborn. They would vow to defend her and someone would get hurt or killed. Their blood could not stain her hands, they had become like family. She had to leave. Perhaps she could send Blankenship a letter when she reached Blackbriar, tell him she escaped and he would have no luck at the Essex estate. She could only hope it would work and keep them all safe.

  Godric’s hand gently stroked her hair, the sensation so soothing and calming that she could barely stay awake. She needed a moment longer.

  “Godric…”

  “Hmm?” His response vibrated her body in its soft rumble.

  “Thank you.”

  “What have I done now?”

  “You showed me a part of life I might have missed otherwise.”

  The back of his knuckles brushed along her cheek. “If you were a chance, my dear, then it was my good fortune to take you.”

  Her eyes burned. She couldn’t cry, not now.

  “I know I should
n’t say it, since it ruins our moments…but I love you.” She might never see him again after this and she wanted to know she was brave enough to say it to him, one last time.

  “You could never ruin anything, darling.”

  Godric raised her head to his and slanted his mouth down over hers. It didn’t matter how he kissed her, chastely or lustily, she came to life at his touch. Her tongue danced between his lips. He groaned softly, fisting his hand in her hair. His fingertips massaged her scalp, and Emily’s hands slid along his chest, reveling in the hot skin beneath her fingertips.

  “Make love to me,” she pleaded between deep, languid kisses.

  “As you command.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The house was rid of Evangeline Mirabeau long before breakfast was even set. Someone had seen to her early departure, and the rest of the house was none the wiser as to who it was. It would seem that, having played her role, she had wisely chosen to leave lest she still be around when Blankenship’s men arrived. The relief among the lords was tangible. Breakfast became a cheery affair, and despite Emily’s plans to depart, she took advantage of these last few hours with her friends. For they were just that. She’d miss Ashton mothering over the others. She’d miss Lucien’s attempts to hide behind his newspaper while teasing the others. She wouldn’t get to fish or hunt with Cedric, nor listen to Charles’s outlandish tales.

  And Godric… She would miss life with him, but she had no choice.

  “Toast, Emily?” Charles offered a plate of toast as it came her way, breaking through her dark thoughts.

  “Why, thank you, Charles,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.” The earl winked, and when she fetched a slice of toast, he passed the plate over her head to Ashton.

  “What has everyone planned for today?” Ashton asked the table at large.

  Charles precariously balanced on the back two legs of his chair. “I’ve got some correspondence to catch up on.”

  “Oh? You actually answer your letters, do you?” Lucien commented from behind his newspaper.

  “Of course I do. Just because I never answer your mother’s letters doesn’t mean I don’t answer any of them”

  Lucien folded his paper and gave Charles a stern look. “My mother writes you letters and you don’t answer them?”

  “Hang on—” Cedric cut in. “Lucien, your mother writes to Charles?”

  Lucien’s darkening scowl made Cedric laugh.

  “Go on, Charles. What does she write to you about?” Godric prodded.

  “It is of a private nature.”

  “Nothing ever stays private with you, Charles, so you might as well tell us.” Ashton’s lips twisted into the faintest essence of a smile.

  Charles scowled. “You want to know? Fine. Lucien’s mother has convinced herself I am the perfect husband for Lysandra.”

  “My sister!” Lucien choked out. “God in heaven, man, you had better never reply to those letters or so help me—”

  “Easy! Lysandra is not my type, as you well know.” Charles glanced around the table. “Besides, we have our rules, don’t we?”

  “Rules?” Emily shook her head, confused.

  Ashton looked over at her. “Even the so-called League of Rogues has rules, my dear.”

  They had rules? The thought made her laugh.

  “Even rogues must draw the line somewhere,” he added.

  “And in this case no League member shall seduce a sister of another member,” Lucien said.

  Charles nodded. “Rule Eight be exact.”

  “I am still wondering you call yourselves the League.” Emily giggled. She’d heard of the name before, of course, whispered between society matrons, often followed by gasps of horror.

  Godric grinned wolfishly. “That curious moniker was actually thrust upon us by The Quizzing Glass Gazette in the Lady Society column. It regales the ton with stories about our exploits, or what they believe we’ve done. They exaggerate quite often, but we found their name to be accurate. We wisely accepted it and now use it, with much pleasure, I might add.”

  “It does have a rather charming ring to it,” Emily said.

  Ashton turned the conversation back to the events of the day. “So Charles is writing letters. What about you, Cedric?”

  “Thought I’d go for a ride.”

  Emily straightened up in her chair. Perhaps she could go for a ride before she had to set her final escape plan in motion. One last good memory…

  “And what about you, Lucien?”

  “I’ve a small matter in London to see to. I should be back by nightfall.”

  Emily didn’t miss the glance made towards Godric. She doubted he was aware of it.

  “Perhaps I ought to accompany you?” Ashton suggested.

  “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

  It was as though they were speaking in code. Emily wondered what the two men were up to.

  With breakfast over, Emily followed Cedric out of the room, eager to watch him ride. But Godric caught the back of her dress and pulled her to an abrupt halt.

  He nuzzled her neck playfully and said, “Now where are you off to?”

  Emily sighed, watching Cedric’s retreating back. “I thought I might watch Cedric ride.” Godric wound his arms about her waist from behind. His lips brushed her right ear and he nipped her lobe. She stifled a little moan.

  “We could stay here…” Each word hung heavy with the promise of passion.

  It was so hard to resist, but the second sigh that escaped her was one of defeat and Godric noticed.

  “Everything all right, my dear?” He stroked her chin with the pad of his thumb. The truth of her fears or her escape lay on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back.

  He studied her silently. “Do you really miss riding?”

  Emily brightened a little. “I do, oh, I do.”

  “I would let you ride…” he paused as her eyes lit up with hope. “If you ride with me.”

  “Oh, Godric, thank you!” She threw her arms about his neck and covered him with kisses.

  Cedric was just trotting out of the stables when they caught up. The dappled gray mare he rode looked eager to be galloping, as did the rider.

  Cedric called down as they walked past. “Shall I wait for you?”

  “Could you?” Emily asked.

  Godric went inside to fetch his gelding while Emily waited.

  Cedric gazed down at her. “Emily, when you return to London, may I introduce you to my sisters? Horatia and Audrey would adore you.”

  “I’d like that very much. I know so few people in the ton. We have mainly country connections.”

  “Not to worry, kitten. My sisters are level-headed creatures for the most part. I think you’d like Horatia especially. She is very much like you.” Cedric grinned as though remembering some private joke. “Audrey…is a bit of scamp. Always in trouble for one thing or another.”

  “Do they love the outdoors like you?”

  Cedric nodded. “Horatia loves to ride almost as much as I do. Audrey loves fresh air, though she’s not fond of horses. Got bit by a rather nasty tempered pony when she was eight. Hasn’t forgiven the equine genus since, poor dear.”

  Emily stroked his mare’s charcoal mane. “My father always said they had a propensity for biting, so I was fortunate never to be subjected to a pony’s temper. Horses though, were a different matter. He had the best pair of thoroughbreds which he taught me to ride.”

  “Your father was a smart man.” Cedric reached down to smack the mare’s neck affectionately.

  Godric came out that moment, his magnificent black gelding in tow, one hand resting on the horse’s neck, the other threading fingers through the dangling reins.

  “Hold him for me, Cedric?” Godric handed him the reins. Godric gripped Emily at the waist and hoisted her up onto the saddle then hauled himself up behind her. He looped an arm about her waist, pulling her back into the cradle of his hips.

  They trotted away from the stable
s, Cedric a few paces ahead. The horses settled into a natural rhythm.

  They rode for an hour before Godric decided the chances of them getting caught in the storm were too great. Emily fixed her attention on the sky, where storm clouds still hung. Not a single drop had fallen the night before, but she could taste the thickness of the air, and the delicious clean scent of a thunderstorm teased the air with a hint of danger. Emily did not protest ending their ride. She’d need to be back at the manor soon to see to her preparations.

  Charles joined Godric, Cedric and Emily for a light luncheon an hour later, but Emily could barely eat. Her stomach churned fitfully and she said little.

  “Are you feeling well?” Godric put the back of his hand to her forehead.

  Emily shut her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his hand. This would be the last time he touched her. Pain tore through her heart, rending it in two. She’d remember him like this, gentle and concerned. A tender rogue, hiding his heart from her for fear of being wounded. But it was she who’d suffer most. At least he did not love her, it would be easier for him to accept her leaving.

  “You feel a bit cold.” Worry darkened his tone.

  “I fear I’m rather under the weather.” It was an opportunity to excuse herself.

  Godric started to rise from his chair. “Shall I send for a doctor?”

  “No! No, don’t trouble yourself, please. I think I’ll take a nap. That may put me to rights.” Emily rose from her chair, put a hand on Godric’s shoulder and gently forced him back down.

  “I’ll come and check on you in a few hours then, darling.” Godric kissed her hand resting on his shoulder. Her heart bled with the knowledge that this was her last kiss. It couldn’t be the last… Not something so inconsequential and chaste as a kiss upon her hand…

  Emily bent and captured his mouth. She couldn’t breathe…couldn’t think. There was only this last, eternal and yet ephemeral kiss. It was her last memory, one that would have to last her the rest of a lonely lifetime.

  I’m letting you go because I love you and it’s the only way to save you. She begged silently with all her heart that he would understand. It nearly cleaved her heart in two when he smiled against her mouth and brushed a hand over her cheek as she left.

 

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