Refusing to show any of her trepidation, she stared up at him defiantly, prepared to defend her honor in any way she could.
“No, Monteford, it will be you who pays. I suggest you name your second.”
At the harshly spoken words, Emma whipped around and gasped in surprise to see Devruex approaching, some ten steps away. His almost casually spoken words shocked her as much as his unexpected presence. Even in the inadequate light, she could see the cold fury stamped upon his features.
Chapter Twelve
Stunned by Jack’s words, Emma felt incapable of finding her voice. Shifting her gaze back to Monteford, she saw that he looked shocked as well.
“Are you challenging me, Devruex? But this is too droll. You mistake the situation, my friend. Lady Fallbrook and I were just indulging in a bit of high spirits,” Monteford said in a jovial tone of voice, completely unlike the tone he had used toward her a moment ago.
Sorely tempted to kick him again, Emma opened her mouth to call him a liar, but Devruex spoke first.
“I mistake nothing. And you are most unwise to add insult upon insult. Swords or pistols?”
At the implacable tone in Devruex’s voice, Emma felt even more alarmed than she had a moment ago. This absurd scene had gone far enough and she felt the immediate need to intervene. “Stop this nonsense! Would the two of you stop speaking as if I am not standing right here?”
Devruex shifted his angry gaze to her. “Emmaline, if you think I am going to let him get away with this, you are terribly mistaken.”
She started to argue when a shrill voice suddenly cut through the air and they all turned to see Mrs. Willoughby rushing toward them in a flurry of plum silk skirts. “You must not duel! You cannot!”
She stopped in front of Devruex, her beautiful face marred by an outraged scowl.
“This is not fair! I will not stand for this! If there is going to be a duel fought then it must be over me! What will everyone think? It is not fair, I say.” She turned to Monteford and stamped her feet. “Monteford, you shall break my heart! After everything I have given you, how dare you insult me in this manner. No! It will not be so! I want a duel fought over me! Lady Fallbrook, it is most unfair of you to steal my thunder like this.”
Struck speechless by such outrageous behavior, Emma fought back an unexpected wave of laughter. Glancing over at Devruex, she saw the muscle in his jaw working and there was a suspicious glint in his eyes. He turned his head and for an instant their eyes met in shared amusement.
Marveling at the vain audacity of Monteford’s mistress, Emma shook her head in amazement. “My dear Mrs. Willoughby, I have to say that your inappropriate forwardness is as impressive as Lord Monteford’s. The two of you are indeed well suited.”
Mrs. Willoughby closed her mouth midscold and her scowl cleared. For a moment she looked flattered.
Next to her, Devruex’s cough sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but Emma kept her gaze on Mrs. Willoughby.
But at Monteford’s guffaw, Mrs. Willoughby’s face changed again in a flash. “There you go again! How do you do it? You just insulted me, yet your tone is as if you were inviting me to take tea.”
Shrugging, Emma said, “I would apologize, but I find you terribly vexing.”
“Ha! Me vexing? You are not so different from me, Miss High-and-Mighty Lady Fallbrook. I suspect that you would behave exactly as I am, were I trying to steal Devruex from you. Looking back, I now suspect that Devruex’s arrival was not a coincidence this morning. Really, it is too unsporting of you to want both of them.”
“Both! Good Lord, I certainly do not want either of them.”
“That’s rather lowering to a gent’s address,” Devruex said, his deep voice filled with languid amusement.
Emma saw the glint in his dark eyes and felt mortified at her presumption. “That is—er—what I meant to say was that Lord Devruex and I do not want each other—” She stopped, realizing how foolish she must sound.
“Speak for yourself, my lady.”
At this rejoinder, Emma’s gaze flew back to Devruex’s, and the expression in his eyes had her heart thumping anew.
“What’s this? Have you been trying to steal a march on me, Devruex? Maybe I will meet you at dawn, at that.” Monteford’s tone was more bluster than threat.
“No! Monteford,” Mrs. Willoughby shrieked, “you must think of my reputation! How could I ever face anyone again if you duel over another woman? You shall break my heart, I swear.”
“Mrs. Willoughby, no one is going to fight a duel,” Emma said sternly. “You are a most curious creature. Why you would find a duel fought over you flattering baffles me. I find the very suggestion insulting as well as uncivilized.” She lobbed a pointed look at Devruex. It was imperative that this talk of duels stop. Why, Grandmère would have apoplexy if such a thing reached her ears, Emma thought in horror.
Devruex met her gaze squarely, but his expression didn’t change.
Mrs. Willoughby gave a petulant shrug. “I am sure that is easy for you to say. I probably should not have spoken so to you, but I have always let my temper run away with me. Something I am sure you know nothing about as you are the perfectly perfect Lady Fallbrook,” Mrs. Willoughby said scornfully.
“You would not have thought so a few minutes ago,” Monteford muttered as he reached down to rub his leg.
Mrs. Willoughby turned to him and put her hands on her hips. “Monteford, come away-with me at once! I am livid! You shall not fight a duel with Lord Devruex over another woman. If you do not come at once you shall force me to something desperate—like—like sending a note to your mother. Neither one of you would like that, I’d wager.”
Monteford raised an index finger and pointed it an inch away from Mrs. Willoughby’s face. “Now you are overstepping yourself, Sally. You should not have followed me. You know I always insist upon the distinction of rank being preserved. Go back to our party at once.”
“I shall not! You cannot make me!”
Emma cringed as Mrs. Willoughby’s voice reached an entirely new octave.
At that moment, Devruex stepped forward and offered Emma his arm. “May I escort you back, Lady Fallbrook? I believe the fireworks have come to an end,” Devruex said with dry amusement.
Hesitating for an instant, Emma looked into his devilish black gaze. Feeling her heart lurch she took his arm. “Why, thank you, Lord Devruex. I believe there have been enough fireworks for one evening.”
Chapter Thirteen
As they set off down the path at an elegant pace, Emma hardly knew what to say and struggled with the inelegant urge to giggle as she heard Mrs. Willoughby’s continued shrieks behind her.
Casting a quick glance at Jack’s striking profile, she thought it ironic that he should be the one to come to her rescue.
Striving for some normalcy, she said, “Thank you for arriving when you did, Lord Devruex.”
“Think nothing of it, Lady Fallbrook. If I had not happened upon you, Mrs. Willoughby was certainly not far behind.”
Startled into a laugh by his dry humor, Emma looked up at him again. A moment later, her gaze strayed to his slight smile.
Being so close to him brought to mind another balmy night, long ago, when they had daringly sneaked out of a ballroom to a secluded garden. There, they had shared their first kiss beneath a vine-covered arbor. It had been an intensely passionate kiss that had confirmed to her that their love was eternal. How young and foolish she had been, she thought with a flare of anger.
Nevertheless, as she walked with him now along the darkened path, his body brushing against her side, that kiss did not seem so long ago. Suddenly she felt a deep, hot anger rising from the pit of her stomach.
Tilting her head up, she sent him a look full of speculation. “How did you come upon us?” she asked, not caring that her tone had an edge.
He looked down, and his slight smile did not waver as he cocked a black brow at her. “I would have sworn that only a few moments ago you were please
d to see me. Now I have the opposite impression.”
“That is not an answer, sir.”
His black gaze flickered over her and her heart began to pound again.
He shrugged. “I saw you walking with Darley. A moment later I watched Monteford follow. I did not think you were expecting him. And you know what a curious fellow I can be.”
Feeling helpless in the face of her own spiraling emotions, Emma said nothing.
Not far away, stringed instruments filled the air with a waltz. Emma’s every sense felt keenly aware of the tall, muscular body next to hers and she hoped she betrayed no outward signs of her distress. She had already exposed too many of her emotions to him.
“So is Darley still your favorite?”
At the look she sent him, he laughed richly. “I thought not.”
Another question occurred to her and she could not resist asking, “You were not really serious when you challenged Lord Monteford to a duel, were you?”
His smile faded completely away. “Of course I was.”
“Why?” Dueling was not only illegal, but she had understood that Monteford and Devruex were friends.
He looked down at her, his dark eyes roving over her features, but he did not answer.
She had to look away, and watched her feet as they continued along the graveled path. “Well, I am just glad it’s over,” she said.
“I do not believe that you need be concerned that Monteford will annoy you again.”
“Oh, I’m not.” And she meant it. The only things concerning her were the disturbing emotions stirring within her at his nearness. Being this close to him was a torment that she could neither fully understand nor dismiss.
“That’s right. I forgot for a moment that you had come to London looking for adventure,” he said as they walked beneath the glow of a low hanging lantern.
Bristling at the teasing challenge in his voice, she said, “I still am. I will just have to try again and hope for better luck next time.”
He stopped abruptly and she, perforce, stopped as well and looked up at him in surprise. Her heart fluttered at the expression of intensity in his eyes.
As he faced her, his features—all shadows and planes—revealed nothing of his thoughts. Anger swelled within her and she clenched her fingers into fists.
Once upon a time she had believed that they would always be attuned to each other’s every feeling. During that fleeting spring, a shared glance was all they needed to understand every bit of longing and laughter and passion the other felt. Looking at the enigmatic man before her, she could not imagine how they ever shared that kind of intimacy.
His gaze had not left her face. “Then Monteford’s interruption must be doubly vexing.”
She sensed a sharpness beneath the amusement lacing his tone. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “How so?”
“He not only insulted you, but prevented you from enjoying the moonlight with Darley.”
“Yes, that was certainly more annoying than forcing his honorable intentions upon me.”
“The evening does not have to be a complete loss.”
She watched him with narrowed eyes, wondering what he was about. “Oh?”
“You could continue to walk in the moonlight with me.”
At the hint of challenge in his tone, her heart began to race and the temptation to pretend the past no longer mattered almost made her take his arm again. But her finely developed sense of self-protection burst to the surface.
“No, thank you. If I did, then the evening really would be a loss.” As soon as the words left her lips, she desperately wished them back. What was wrong with her? It was completely out of her character to be so cutting.
“You are a most curious creature,” he said. “Tell me why you are so angry.”
“I told you, I am not—”
He stepped closer and she had to tilt her chin up to look at him, but she did not step back.
“It’s far too late to pretend otherwise, Emmaline.”
In the half-light beneath the trees, his deep voice rumbled over her, and old familiar feelings swirled through her. She could not find her voice to save her life.
He moved imperceptibly closer, but she still did not move. She watched his gaze travel down to her mouth and her heart began to hammer.
He is going to kiss me, came the breathless realization. As his head lowered, and with a dizzying feeling of anticipation, she lifted her chin ever so slightly. Just as she felt his warm breath on her lips she closed her eyes and in the next instant he pulled her against his chest.
Unthinking, she responded to the warm, firm pressure of his lips as if her will were no longer her own. Putting her hands on his hard chest, she felt his heart beating beneath her fingers before sliding her arms around his neck.
She shivered as his hands caressed her back through the thin material of her gown and pulled her closer. Her hand settled on the smooth, warm nape of his neck and her pliant body seemed to meld into the hard lines of his as the kiss deepened.
With her other hand, she pushed aside her shawl so that she could press against him even closer. His lips moved against hers more urgently and at the rumble of his groan, the passion his touch ignited flared even higher.
Parting her lips at the insistent tug of his mouth, she felt his need and, touching her tongue to his, was instantly lost to their magic.
He kissed her again and again until her hands bit into his back to keep her knees, weak with need, from collapsing.
For thirteen years she hadn’t felt his touch, had nearly forgotten the pleasurable, aching hunger that shot through her with renewed intensity.
Because of him, the hazy thought surfaced through the passion, she had never known what life could have been like.
All the years, all the sad, dull, duty-filled years that had unfolded between their last kiss and this moment tumbled down upon her with suffocating force.
Suddenly, it became utterly clear why his presence stirred up such a searing anger within her.
If only he had not arrived the night of their intended elopement half foxed and gotten them lost, this feeling of passion, and desire, could have been hers for the last thirteen years.
While the dreams of her youth had slipped away, while tragedy scarred her heart, while Charles had worn her down with his petty tyranny—she had been missing this.
His lips slid across her cheek, to her ear. “Emmaline.”
The hungry, rough sound of his voice speaking her name heightened her heartbreaking sense of loss. She whispered, “Oh, how I hate you.”
If it were possible, his arms tightened even more around her pliant body. Emma closed her eyes and breathed in the warm, smoky scent of him.
“You are faced with quite the dilemma,” he finally said, his lips still against her ear.
Opening her passion heavy lids, she pulled back and met his gaze. “Dilemma?”
“You may hate me, but, my dear Lady Fallbrook, you want me just as much.”
Chapter Fourteen
At the break of dawn, Jack boarded his traveling coach and headed for Woodhouse, his small estate less than two hours beyond London.
He had purchased the hundred-acre property a few years ago because of its excellent state of repair and the size of its mews and stable yard. Its convenient proximity to London and Newmarket was an added bonus.
The house itself had been the least of his considerations when he had first toured the property. However, after the purchase, he discovered it to be as perfectly proportioned and charming as a jewel box.
As his carriage turned up the well-manicured, curving drive he felt a sense of pride.
During the dark years right after Emma had left him, the only thing that had sustained him was the fierce need to overcome his penury and somehow restore his family’s good name—as well as its coffers.
It had been difficult, but he had sold a few more family heirlooms and, on the advice of trusted friends, had invested the money in a venture
in the West Indies. It had seemed like a miracle when his investment paid off handsomely.
Through more careful investing and management—including ambitious improvements to his farms—his fortunes had turned dramatically.
After working to put things right at Kingsmount, he had been able to purchase Woodhouse and begin to actively pursue his desire to breed blood horses. And he had managed to do it without any financial difficulty.
Now, several years later, he was an extremely wealthy man, but had not forgotten what it had been like to struggle.
Woodhouse reminded him of how sweet it felt to overcome those obstacles. Even though the manor was only one-fifth the size of Kingsmount, he had grown to feel very much at home in the picturesque place.
Unfortunately, that was not the case this morning, he thought some hours later as he made his way toward the mews.
Usually, he thrived in the hivelike atmosphere of his stud farm. But as he strode past stable boys busily going about their chores, the usual solace he found was patently missing.
In the yard, Caleb, his head trainer, was in the process of giving Tommy—who was going to ride Circes in the Severly Stakes—instructions.
“Now take her for a run, but don’t be giving her her head too soon,” Caleb told the wiry jockey. “Just get her good and warm. Then we’ll run her against Persephone ‘cause she’s the only one who can keep up with our Circes.”
Jack approached and leaned his forearms atop the fence as Tommy urged the chestnut filly into an easy trot. Doffing his cap as he went by his master, Tommy led the horse out of the stable yard.
Devruex swept his gaze over the filly as she pranced in the same high-spirited way that had caught his attention mere weeks after her birth.
The Duke of Richmond and Squire Watt—both men renowned for their keen judgment of horseflesh—had expressed the opinion that the filly was too high-strung to have the heart of a champion.
But Jack had known different. Beneath her skittish surface, Circes was fearless.
Just like Emmaline, he thought, recalling how she had knocked Monteford on his arse and refused to back down from his threats. Despite his continued desire to flatten Monteford he could not help smiling at the memory.
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