Red Crystal Romance: #1 Emma

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “I’ve spoken with some of Davenport’s servants. The man does not pay well and it’s very easy to gather knowledge from them,” Harris resumed pacing.

  “You are collecting a wealth of knowledge for becoming an investigator, Harris,” Lucas said with an approving nod.

  “I was told that Miss Carstairs was the most agreeable patron. She asked for nothing. She never left her room and she rarely ate what was brought to her chamber for her meals.”

  “Your sarcasm and distaste make me want to pay a personal visit to the Davenport’s,” Lucas said flatly, aware for the first time that his hands had clenched into tight fists on the desk top.

  “Were it that simple, my friend. The rooms are leased through an agency. Davenport barely leaves his country estate these days and his wife spends her time in Bath,” Harris recounted. “Carstairs and your father, however, were extremely stealthy in their assignations. Carstairs was seen to leave the house every morning at eleven. I was fortunate enough to happen upon one of the delivery men who just happened to see Carstairs enter into a gaming room on St. James. I visited three of the rooms there and finally discovered that he had been meeting your father there since he docked.”

  Lucas slowly opened his palms and leaned back in the chair, his hands behind his head. “My father has known Carstairs from the beginning.”

  “I’m fairly certain your father knew him before he arrived with Emma,” Harris met the cold expression on Lucas’ face. “People overheard conversations when they were together. The implication is that they met when your father went to America three months ago.”

  Lucas watched Harris pour two glasses from the chilled pitcher, carrying one to him and handing it over.

  “Why do I feel very uneasy about this,” Lucas set the glass down on the blotter of his desk and stood up.

  “I believe it does get worse, Lucas,” Harris walked to join Lucas on the porch.

  Lucas turned and leaned against the thick stone rail, his hand raised and fingers pushing his spectacles up his nose before he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “We’ve established that Emma did not come to England of her own free will. We’ve established that my father and Carstairs spent several days together gaming before the fateful wager. And now said wager appears to have been contrived. We’re fairly certain they met over three months ago.” Lucas waited for Harris to continue.

  “But for what intent?”

  “Emma was not meant to survive,” Lucas said softly. “I…was not meant to be there.”

  “But you went a day ahead of schedule,” Harris recalled.

  “I arrived outside the tavern in time to see her face through the open carriage window,” Lucas recalled aloud. Emma had been propped in the corner against the door. For a brief, all too brief moment, she’d opened her eyes and stared at him. Large, round brown eyes that blinked and seemed to call to him.

  “This was not about your father finding you a bride.”

  “My father could care less if I were alone or not,” Lucas said without emotion.

  “Then what was it about?”

  “Somehow we have more questions than we began with, Harris.”

  ****

  Emma wandered up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. She tossed the paper wrapped package to the vanity top and toed off her shoes before sliding over the surface of the neatly made bed. She pulled a pillow from the head of the bed and lay with her head at the bottom, staring into the sky outside.

  She felt herself slipping in and out of sleep and swore she heard the door close just before the bed shifted slightly.

  “Lucas?” Emma sat up seconds before she felt the hard backhand against her face. Her head was sent smacking into the four inch corner post of the bed.

  Emma groaned, her hand rose to rub against her head. Her eyes popped open and a sharp yelp left her lips when her visitor grabbed her braid and pulled her sharply forward.

  “You’re nothin’ but trouble,” Daniel snarled.

  Emma coughed as the alcohol scented breath filled her lungs. But it was enough of a motivation for her to just open her mouth and scream. Loud and long. His hand tightened on her hair and jerked her back until she was swaying on her knees.

  “Let me go,” Emma gasped when the other hand came around and gripped her throat.

  “I heard what you told them,” he hissed next to her ear, dragging her to the edge of the bed by her hair. Her hands scrambled on the surface of the bed, trying to keep up. “I heard you, bitch. You should have died an’ this wouldn’t be a bloody problem.”

  He’d been waiting in her room for her.

  Emma fought against the pain and the urge to close her eyes, shutting out both him and the sharp hurt. Her eyes were barely open, glimpsing the floor about four feet below where he held her upper body. She pulled her hands from the bed and tried easing the pain where his hands gripped her hair.

  “I told them the truth! You’re a pig and I don’t want you around us!” Emma spoke loudly, hoping the open balcony door carried her voice. Just to be certain, before he could cut off her sounds, she screamed again. She gasped sharply when his hand tightened around the throat.

  She struggled to keep conscious; struggled to keep the darkness away. There were voices. Loud and angry just as she tumbled to the floor in a soft, loose heap at the end of the bed. She threw her hands out automatically, breaking the fall and scrambling to the side, gasping and huddled next to the trunk.

  Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision, the roaring in her ears made the voices appear muffled as she worked to level off her breathing. One arm wrapped around her pulled up knees while the other massaged her throat to try and take away the burning.

  Dark lashes blinked, trying to clear the fog of tears.

  “Grab the bastard!”

  She listened to Lucas and thought for a brief second that it really did not sound like the calm, almost sedate man she’d come to know over the last few days.

  “Get men around the grounds to search,” Lucas ordered gruffly. “And notify the constable that he attempted to murder my fiancé.”

  Emma felt the warm, confident hands shaking when he touched her face before lifting her from the floor and carrying her back to the bed. She barely had time to sigh and relax against him before he left her to go to the bedroom door.

  “Nancy? Bring something cold to drink up here, please.”

  “Thank you,” Emma swallowed, groaned and frowned at the rasping voice. “I’m alright, Lucas. Just a little…cold…and tired.”

  ****

  Lucas wanted to put his fist through the solid wood of the bedroom door, but clenched his fingers tightly instead and left the door wide open. He walked to the bed and leaned against the headboard, gently gathering Emma in his arms. His hands were still shaking as one stroked quietly over her head. He smiled when she pushed his jacket aside and placed her cheek against his chest with a soft sigh.

  “Emma, I am so very sorry…”

  Emma began to speak and her voice came out a little squeak. She cleared her throat a few times and tried again.

  “You can’t take responsibility for the actions of the world, Lucas,” she said as firmly as possible. “Please…keep a close eye on Nancy.”

  “I’ll see to it personally.”

  Emma patted his chest lightly. Her eyes opened to watch Nancy come forward with a tall glass in her hands. “Thank you.” She reached for the glass. “No crying, Nancy. I’m fine. Just need a little rest and I’ll come look for you later. Lucas said I can pick out a desk from the store room and put it into the library.”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “Just let me sleep a bit,” Emma murmured after draining the glass of lemonade and handing it back.

  Lucas settled her against the pillows half an hour later, his palm skimming down the side of her face after he pulled the duvet over her. He stood for several minutes, staring at the bruises forming against a lightly tanned throat before turning and looking past Nanc
y where she stood loyally at the door.

  “Remain with her and see that she gets what she needs.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the immediate answer.

  ****

  Chapter Twelve

  Her throat hurt. Mostly a dull burn, she decided with a long stretch before she sat up in the middle of the bed. Kind of like just before a sore throat strikes. Two hands ran heavily over her face and hair. Fuzzy hair time, she thought, blinking and finding Nancy immediately at the side of the bed with a refilled glass of liquid.

  Emma gazed around after taking a grateful drink.

  “Thank you. I need a clock in here. Have you been here the whole time I was sleeping?” Emma set the glass down and slipped over the side of the bed. She continued on into the bathroom and sighed in relief.

  “His lordship wanted me to be here if you needed anything, Miss.”

  “He’s angry at me, isn’t he?” Emma asked after washing her hands and striding to the vanity seat. She reached for her brush after pulling the band from the end of her hair. Tomorrow, she was finding someone who could give a half decent haircut.

  “Angry?” Nancy repeated in surprise. “No, Miss, not with you. He’s very worried about you.”

  “I’m not fond of guys who behave like that,” Emma gave up the brush when Nancy came behind her and took it to take over the brushing. “I want it back in a braid, please. I’m going to town in the morning. I want to get my hair cut. But anyway…I’m okay. A little sore…” she peered into the mirror and winced. “And a little on the purple side. But it’ll go away,” she declared with a dismissing shrug. “I think I want to look at the room where the furniture is stored. We might find some good stuff there I need.”

  Emma peered into the mirror when her statement met with silence and lowered eyes. “Nancy, what’s wrong?”

  “His lordship thought you should stay in bed, Miss. I was to bring you dinner here,” Nancy said quietly, her hands working the long hair into a neat braid before tying off the end.

  “I’m okay. And…to be honest, sitting around just makes me think of that person and I don’t want to do that. So…” Emma stood up and forced a bright smile to her lips. “Show me where the extra furniture is. Why is there extra?”

  “His lordship has been repairing the house since he bought it. Some of the furniture is old and from the other buildings he removed,” Nancy explained. “He only kept the pieces in good condition. Some is from other buildings he bought and repaired for use and rental.”

  “The bedroom is a little sparse. Two dressers, an armoire and bed. Oh and the two chairs and now the trunks, but the room is huge. Maybe I can find a book shelf and…I don’t know…I’ll know what I want when I see it.”

  Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised that Lucas wasn’t in the library. Nor did he appear in the dining hall when Nancy informed her dinner was ready.

  They’d crawled among several rows of best described as stuff, Emma thought with a smile as she stood before the mirror in her bathroom and scrubbed her face. She found a clock that would sit nicely on the high bureau and Nancy promised would be repaired in a day or two. She pulled a very nice and dusty book shelf from behind another mirrored armoire. They managed to get those two pieces to her bedroom.

  Which wasn’t all that difficult since they hadn’t seen anyone else inside the house. Nancy was even surprised when she opened the front door and found her father outside at the bottom of the stairs. Emma had listened when he gruffly ordered her to remain inside with her mistress. Which Emma realized was her. She set the clock near the front door and touched Nancy’s arm with a little nod inside.

  “They’re out there because of Daniel,” Emma said quietly, instantly seeing the answer in Nancy’s face. “It’s alright. Let’s get the shelf into the bedroom and we can clean it. When I go to town tomorrow I want to visit the book shop. I missed that today.”

  She knew she was keeping busy on purpose. No one would tell her where Lucas and Harris had disappeared to. She picked at her food until finally giving up and leaving the dining hall, striding down the corridor to the library. All the doors and windows were closed and locked from the inside. It was stifling.

  She dug her nails into her palms because if she didn’t, she was positive she’d go over and throw the window panes wide. Instead, she turned and stomped up the stairs to her room. But standing in the doorway, her gaze immediately went to the open balcony window. She shuddered as she drew the doors closed and latched them.

  But she wasn’t stupid. If someone wanted inside that room, the glass doors wouldn’t stop them. Emma curled on the edge of the bed, just staring. Some things don’t change, even when the time or place does.

  She caused this. Her views, her opinions. She didn’t fit here anymore than she did anywhere else in her life. And now she’d brought something to Lucas’ door and she didn’t have a clue what it was about! At least before when she was in the middle of some mess, she knew how she got there and why.

  Emma striped off her dress and quickly washed and pulled the chair in front of the window. She settled there with a sheet over her and listened to the sound of night falling around the house. She could see the figures walking around outside and knew them from sight.

  She shivered slightly and decided this just wasn’t a comfortable room tonight. Not alone. And she definitely did not want to be alone. Thankfully, the lights had been lit so she didn’t have to wander the hall in the dark. Emma stood at the door, knocking lightly.

  When there was no response, she slowly turned the knob and stepped inside. His was a normal square room and not nearly as big as the one he’d put her in. And very sparsely furnished.

  A bed and a dresser and a mirrored armoire. She’d been in the room once but had been so excited about finding the money in her trunk, she’d barely noticed how empty it looked. He had a small vanity type thing with a basin on it and a mirror. That’s where he stood when he shaved. She walked inside the room, her fingers running over the surface of the vanity.

  And everything in the room was amazingly neat, she thought with a brief shudder. Just like his workshop. Very orderly and precise. She wondered if he made love the same way.

  Emma lowered the light, opened the window wide and crawled into the center of the bed. It was warm enough to just curl around a fluffy pillow. It smelled like Lucas. Spicy and clean. And safe. She might not know what was happening, but she knew where she felt safest.

  She’d never been important to anyone before and taking care of herself had been priority in most of her life. She didn’t know if it was genuine or not, but for the moment, all she wanted was the feeling around her as she drifted off to sleep.

  ****

  Lucas couldn’t remember being this angry in all his thirty-two years. He pulled his spectacles from his face and tossed them to the top of the vanity. He looked from the open window to the bundle lying in the center of his bed and breathed a sigh of relief.

  He’d checked her room. Checked the whole house when he found her room empty. But hadn’t thought to check his own room. He’d thrown off his jacket hours ago in the search of the property, making certain everything was secure and inaccessible. He sat in the single straight backed chair, pulled his boots off, and dropped them quietly to the floor.

  Evidently he hadn’t been quiet enough. He watched the limber, feminine form stretch her arms above her head, a soft sound like a kitten left her lips as she rolled to her back. Dark lashes blinked and focused on him, a momentary look of concern flashing over her features before she relaxed.

  “Lucas…” Emma ran her tongue around her lips. “I couldn’t sleep in my room.”

  “We haven’t found him, Emma,” Lucas had begun to open the buttons down his shirt. He moved toward the bed, his hands on the edge as he leaned forward. He’d worked most of the day to put thoughts of Emma out of his mind. But he never managed to remove her from his bed.

  His cock surged against the coarse fabric of his trousers. She smelled lik
e roses. She’d released her hair and it hung loosely around her face. Waves of dark brown draped across her shoulders and he could see the pebbled points of her nipples pressing against the crème fabric of her camisole.

  “I think I was afraid to stay in my room alone.” Emma pulled in a slow breath.

  Lucas stared into the wide, luminous eyes, his hand rising with only the barest of tremors as he stroked along her cheek and jaw. His thumb caught on the full bow of her lower lip, caressing along the softness. Neither of them seemed to breathe.

  “Emma…” he watched her slide her knees beneath her and rise slowly. Lightning shot through him when her hands came forward and touched the buttons on his shirt. He should stop her. He should remain in his clothing and force her to lie back and go to sleep. She needed rest, he kept telling himself.

  “Lucas, I’m not a child.”

  He couldn’t stop the fury from bursting in a flash in his gaze when it landed on her throat. One hand rose to trail soft fingers around her temple, brushing the long hair behind her shoulder.

  “It doesn’t really hurt,” she said softly. “It just looks pretty bad. Nancy gave me some kind of lotion and massaged it on for me.”

  He wasn’t about to ruin the mood by telling her exactly how Daniel had sealed his fate by putting his hands on her.

  “Emma, if you have any doubt about being here…I don’t believe I possess the strength to send you away again,” a low need vibrated in his voice and the room began to heat up.

  “Why should I be afraid of you, Lucas?” Emma stared up at him as she moved closer on her knees, her fingers deftly opening the buttons down the front of his shirt.

  The fabric parted and he felt her fingers touch his skin. Soft and cool. Small hands stroking over his chest and onto his shoulders, pushing the stiff shirt further open and down his arms. He straightened, shrugging absently until it fell forgotten to the floor.