by Lauren Smith
Emily stepped back, the wood wall striking her from behind. “Mr. Helprin, please, don’t come any closer.”
“I know this is a game, Miss Parr. It’s not the first time I’ve performed dramatic roles for a woman. Just like His Grace’s last mistress you seek to sate yourself with a younger man now and then. Evangeline liked to pretend the Revolutionaries had captured her. But you didn’t need an elaborate ruse to have me. I know Godric really isn’t in danger.” He reached for the buttons on the front of her gown. She was suddenly very aware of the large size of his hands, the breadth of his shoulders and the power of his muscled frame.
She bared her teeth like a cornered animal. If she had to fight him, she would. “Let go of me.”
“Shh…Calm down, Miss Parr. It will be enjoyable, I assure you. I know that’s why you asked me to help you. It’s obvious, you are here to be with me. I’ve never had complaints…and we shall be very, very warm afterwards.” His voice oozed with honey.
Emily exhausted and distressed, pawed at his hands, trying to push him away.
“I tell you your master is in danger and that I’m fleeing to save his life and you assume it’s part of some elaborate ruse for you to take me to bed? Do you possess that thick of a skull that logic cannot penetrate?” What she had hoped would have been a bitter tirade ended in a most unladylike sneeze and a sudden headache.
The sound of horses riding up outside in the rain could be heard.
“Hark!” he gasped. “It Blankenship’s men. We’re surrounded! It’s only a matter of time before they catch us. We should steal this one brief moment while we can.”
“This is not a game, Mr. Helprin!”
Emily swayed as a wave of dizziness struck her. Her hands fell on his shoulders when she struggled to stay upright.
Jonathan lifted her up off the floor, and carried her to the bed. “Just close your eyes. I’m sure I’ll feel the same as my master.”
Emily struggled, muscles straining as she fought to keep Jonathan at a respectable distance.
“Get off me, you stupid oaf! I cannot believe you are such an addlepaited twit! I don’t want you!” Her protest was lost on him and she sneezed again.
Jonathan pinned her down on the narrow bed, wedging his hips between her legs.
“That is what Evangeline said, but then she kissed me and all but dragged me to her bed. She said she liked to play games, that most women did. You cannot be all that different, Miss Parr.”
He slanted his mouth down over hers.
I swear when I have the chance, I will kick him right in his manhood, she vowed. Emily clawed at his chest, but she was so tired and her head felt thick with a fogginess that frightened her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
Jonathan’s mouth moved to her neck and the second her lips were free a small pitiful sob escaped Emily’s throat.
Jonathan froze when she sobbed again. He pulled back, startled.
“My God. You really don’t want me.” The look of sheer shock on his face relieved her. He seemed completely horrified at his actions.
Emily sank limp into his arms, but managed a weak nod and then sneezed again.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Parr, I thought…it doesn’t matter. Did…I hurt you?” He moved off her and sat back. Emily rolled onto her side away from him and burst into tears. Jonathan awkwardly patted her back. He couldn’t understand the rending of her heart from her soul, the shattering of her essence into a thousand pieces. She wept for the life she left behind, the love she’d never know again.
“There, there.” He tried to comfort her.
She slowed in her tears and only hiccupped once or twice, quivering. “I…don’t think I’m well…” she started to say. A rough knock at the door cut the string of words from her lips.
“We’re busy!”
The knock turned into a furious beating. Jonathan rose to his feet with a grumble, still shirtless as he moved.
When he opened the door, an absolute silence fell for all of two seconds before someone roared, and Jonathan hastily begged to explain. A fist flew through the door’s opening to catch Jonathan square in the jaw.
Chapter Sixteen
Godric left Cedric alone in the drawing room to check on Emily. She’d looked decidedly pale and he was worried.
I’ll read to her! She’ll like that.
His eagerness surprised him, the temptation to abandon his friends and seek her out was great. But she probably needed some time alone—women often did; they were quite mysterious creatures. Knowing this didn’t make him miss her any less. He snatched a book from his study and hurried upstairs.
On his way to her room he passed by a chamber he’d not entered in years. Strangely tempted, he opened the door. The nursery was a lovely room, even when muted by afternoon shadows and warm with its buttery yellow walls decorated by various painted scenes. Scenes painted by Godric’s father a month before Godric was born.
He remembered his father pointing to a mighty frigate, guns blasting at a pirate vessel, deep voice rumbling as it spoke of age-old tales.
Godric’s gaze fixed on another scene, one of a babe in a basket nestled against a wall of reeds as an Egyptian woman knelt to investigate her discovery. The tale of Moses—his mother’s favorite story. A misplaced child loved by two mothers.
His throat tightened as he approached the empty crib. The faded blankets were perfectly folded, dust collecting on the crib’s smooth edges. He ran a fingertip along the white wood, admiring the craftsmanship. His parents’ ghosts were so alive in this room, in a way they hadn’t been in a long time. Even though his father had lingered longer than his mother, Godric always felt his father died with her, at least on the inside.
The memories were bittersweet. How different his father became after losing her. The man whose talented hands had created such vivid dreams turned those hands to fists with which to pummel his only child.
No child should ever choose between wanting his father to leave and fearing actual abandonment. For half his life, a nightmare kept him trapped in a crumbling relationship with his only surviving parent.
Godric wondered whether he could recapture the soft magic of those early days, his mother still alive, his father’s eyes joyful. Could those sacred hours of love and security return? It seemed impossible.
He couldn’t erase the stark, empty plight of the days after his mother’s death. He used to stare out the nursery window, waiting for his father to leave the distant grave. With the quiet patience of a frightened child, he lingered by his father’s door each night, hoping for reassurance. A hug, a smile, any sign of affection, any sign he wasn’t forgotten. A few months later, his father’s indifference turned to violence.
Then Godric was desperate to hide, to pretend he never existed. It had been easy enough, living like a ghost in the lonely manor.
A vision burst before him, splitting the dark memories with its ray of light, the room lit by oil lamps. A lady with auburn hair peeked over the edge of the crib and cooed softly. She turned to face him, her violet eyes wide with wonder at the miracle of the babe before her. A miracle they’d brought to life together.
The vision faded. Emily and a child. A dream he might yet make real. He fingered the soft cotton of the baby blanket, hungry for the reality of the child he dreamed about. He would love it, whether boy or girl, cherish it and raise it to be perfect, just like its mother. The woman he loved. Loved.
He was in love with Emily.
The realization didn’t shock him as he’d expected it would. Rather, his love grew the way seeds do, slowly, first planted the night he held her in his arms. Emily’s laugh, her smiles, her dreams and soft touches, had nurtured it, until love covered his heart like a wealth of rich ivy. All these years he’d been convinced loving someone would leave him vulnerable. What a fool he’d been.
Love strengthened a person. It fortified their heart until they could defeat any enemy, survive any hardship, achieve any dream.
Godric tucked
the baby blanket back into place and left the nursery, a look of joy on his face. He’d tell Emily right now. Confess his love and demand she stay and marry him, no matter the scandal. He had to have her, had to spend the rest of his life at the altar of her love, worshipping the woman who’d taught him to trust in himself and his heart.
He rapped his knuckles lightly on her door. It was half past three in the afternoon. Surely she’d slept, or at least rested, since lunch. He knocked louder when no one answered. Godric frowned, put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. Emily’s door swung open, revealing a darkened room, curtains pulled shut. She looked to be buried deep into her covers. “Emily? Are you well?” Still no answer. “I thought I could read to you…” He rushed to her bed and tugged back the covers, his lips moving—“Emily?”—as his voice increased in volume.
The sight he beheld cooled his blood.
Someone—Emily—had lined up pillows beneath the covers, mimicking the presence of a body. She’d pinned a white piece of paper to the pillow. He picked it up with numb fingers, not even feeling the sting of the pin as it pricked his thumb. Godric blinked, opened the paper and read her letter.
Godric, I’m sorry to have left like this, but there was no other way. You must believe me. We are two different people, our lives worlds apart. I love you, but I cannot stay with you. I’m so sorry.
Emily was gone.
Rather than crumple the note in his fist, he set it down on the pillow. It was the last thing he had of hers, the last thing she touched in his world. He couldn’t bear to destroy it and was too weak to remove the painful reminder.
He stumbled, faltering, as reality set in.
“Oh God…Emily!” She couldn’t be gone… She couldn’t have left him…
Cold rage engulfed him in icy flames, returning strength where love had rendered him weak.
Never again.
“Cedric, Charles!” he bellowed, wrath building in him. It crushed the despair that blackened his heart and gave him purpose.
Godric ran from the room and found his friends shooting up the stairs towards him.
“What? What’s happened?” Cedric asked.
“Has anyone seen Emily?” He quivered with rage and, strangely, fear.
Charles shook his head. “No…”
“I haven’t seen Penelope either…” added Cedric. “You don’t think—”
Godric growled. “Find Simkins and Mrs. Downing! Tell them to have the servants search the manor from floor to ceiling. Charles, search the stables and the gardens. Cedric, you’ll search the meadow with me. We’ll take horses and go around the lake as well.”
Charles raised an eyebrow. “And if we find her?”
“Subdue her by whatever means necessary. Cedric, bring the laudanum.”
Charles balked. “But she hates—”
“I know. It was a mistake to grant her even one measure of freedom.”
Godric scowled and neither man dared argue with him, not while fury lit his eyes like the fires of Hell.
Ten minutes later Godric and Cedric galloped across the meadow under a threatening sky. Cedric stopped well ahead of the wall and made to climb it, but Godric dug his heels into his horse’s side. It cleared the wall entirely. He turned his horse to the left abruptly, as he’d seen Emily do, and spared himself another unpleasant dunking.
He didn’t wait for Cedric.
His eyes scanned the ground for any sign of her passage.
Nothing… It was as though she had vanished into thin air.
Cedric studied the meadow. “Has she been planning this for a long while, do you think?”
“I do. I think she was biding her time for this moment, lulling me into a false sense of security.”
“Then she fooled us all.” Cedric’s voice darkened with disappointment.
“What now?”
Godric raked a hand through his hair. “Where would she go?”
Cedric shrugged. “She could be anywhere. She must have quite a head start.”
“No, she won’t get far with a storm coming. We will find her, no matter how long it takes. I will track her down.”
Cedric’s voice was quiet. “Maybe you ought to let her go.”
“Go?”
A tic worked in Cedric’s jaw but he didn’t back away. “You and I both know that clinging to things we don’t deserve isn’t healthy. Perhaps it is better this way.”
“I don’t care what is better!” Godric roared. “She is mine.” He couldn’t do without her. She was imprinted upon his heart, his soul. She had said she loved him. He wouldn’t let her walk away.
When they returned to the manor, Charles appeared in the doorway, a flicker of apprehension crossed his features.
“No sign of her?”
Cedric frowned. “No. She wasn’t in the gardens, I take it?”
Charles shook his head. “No. Nor the stables, and all the horses are accounted for.”
They returned to the house, helping the servants search room by room. Rain lashed at the windows and lightning laced the skies with white fiery streaks. The clock in the hallway read half-past four. One more precious hour gone.
Godric stood on the landing, scowling as he gazed out the tall window to the view across the meadow, towards the lake.
“Why did you leave me?” His voice wavered. If he hadn’t been in such pain, he would have laughed. The Duke of Essex had found his heart, only to have it broken.
Her leaving him was infinitely more painful than any blow his father ever struck.
His darling, sweet, innocent Emily had betrayed him. She was no different than Evangeline. Yet he would drag her back here and imprison her for as long as he liked. Society and law be damned. She’d wounded his pride, wounded his heart. She’d pay dearly for it.
“Your Grace?” Mrs. Downing cut through Godric’s dark thoughts.
He spun to face his housekeeper at the foot of the stairs. One of the serving maids cowered behind her, avoiding Godric’s glare. “What?”
“This young lady has information regarding Miss Parr.” Mrs. Downing sidestepped and exposed the girl to Godric’s wrath.
Godric descended the steps and grabbed the maid by the shoulders. “Speak, girl!”
The maid cast a furtive glance towards the housekeeper, seeking some aid.
Godric shook her. “Speak now, or you will find employment elsewhere.”
“Sh-She’s gone off with Jonathan Helprin to Blackbriar village. She wore my extra serving gown. She said your life was in dan—”
Godric released her. “Silence!” He turned to the others looking for his butler. “Simkins! Have the grooms ready three horses. Charles! Cedric!”
They emerged from the rooms they’d been searching.
Godric strode to the door. “She’s gone to Blackbriar village. We leave immediately. If we ride hard we can be there in an hour.” Godric slung himself up into the saddle. “I’m on your trail again, little fox.” He was going to catch Emily Parr one last time, and she would never escape him again.
Jonathan stumbled backward, a hand to his jaw as Godric stormed into the room.
Emily scrambled off the bed, realizing how the situation must appear to Godric, she in her undergarments crying and Jonathan only half-dressed.
“What have you done to her? You bastard!” Godric threw himself at Jonathan.
Jonathan put up his hands. “Nothing! I’ve done nothing, I swear!”
Godric threw another vicious punch, and that was it.
Jonathan crumpled to the floor unconscious.
Penelope snarled at Godric, lunging for his Hessians as he turned on Emily. The little hound was determined to protect her mistress.
Cedric and Charles rushed into the room. Relief lightened their faces. “Emily, thank God we found you!” said Cedric
“Wait outside, and take that filthy hound with you and Penelope as well.” Cedric scooped up the pup while Charles dragged out the valet.
Godric slammed the door behind them,
turned the lock and faced her. Water streamed down his clothes, and his dark hair curled against the collar of his neck.
The world ceased to move. Stars winked out in the distant cosmos, the wind and rain outside paled into mist. Emerging from the gloom, Godric was her beacon of light, the shelter from her storms.
Emily realized she could never do without him, never leave him again. Without him she would have faded into a shadow of her true self. It had already begun before he’d found her.
Emily choked back a sob.
But she’d abandoned him. Despite her reasons, the love that drove her, the hope that carried her, he wouldn’t forgive her now, perhaps ever. The pain in his eyes told her just what her departure had cost him.
All she had to do was explain. He’d listen, and maybe, if she was lucky, forgive her. He’d have to, once he knew what Evangeline had said.
He removed his cloak, overcoat and shirt, then took slow deep breaths as he stepped towards her. Emily’s heart quickened. She saw the animal lust in his eyes, and she knew her own gaze answered his.
Without a second thought Emily flung herself at him, pressing tight against him, arms banding about his neck. But he didn’t return her embrace. His arms hung at his sides. He was coiled tight, rigid and so impossibly cold.
“Godric, I’m so glad you’re here, but…” Godric pried her arms from around his neck and set her firmly away from him, the distance between them a vast ocean, dark and bottomless. She needed to explain. There was no other option. “You shouldn’t have come. I can’t protect you like this.”
“Do. Not. Speak.”
A rabbit trapped against a serpent’s gaze, Emily stood mesmerized and unable to move. He backed her into a wall, pinning her shoulders with his palms.
“You left me. You lied to me.”
“Listen to me! I had to.”
“You abandoned me. So much for your love.” His voice harsh, his teeth gritted.
“You don’t understand, Blankenship was going to—”
He caught her chin with one hand and took her mouth with his. Took everything she offered. He left her no time for breath or thought. Emily gave in. The hard kiss turned soft and deep. His touch was full of tenderness as he stroked her body. He had forgiven her, he had to, otherwise he would not have been so gentle now.