Unfortunately, the fire reminded him of the day he had saved her from the freezing waters of the river. Her bosom pressed against his chest. Her skin like silk. Her lips hungry for his…
“This wine is delicious,” she said, and he almost jumped at the suddenness of her voice. “It must have cost a small fortune.”
“A woman of your worth must have the best things provided for her, including the best wines.”
“And you?” she asked, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear her. “Would you provide me everything I desire?”
“Yes, of course.” He leaned in and pressed a brush of a kiss to her lips. He just could not help himself! “All your desires.”
A small smile played on her lips as she placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sure you could. Your strong muscles could carry me anywhere you desired.”
Michael had to fight to keep shock from his features. Was the woman asking him to do the very thing he wanted? Perhaps he had wasted the days trying to woo her and should have simply done as he wanted.
He glanced down. She had yet to remove her hand from his arm. “Perhaps I should give you what you desire,” he whispered, and he brushed her cheek with his hand.
She sighed. Any moment she would give in to what she had been holding back all this time.
“As only you could, my lord,” she replied. “In fact, I could find myself calling on you whenever I wish for those desires to be fulfilled.”
Michael grinned. He placed his glass on the floor and touched her face again. “There is no need to wait.” He moved forward to kiss her, but she placed a hand on his chest.
“The truth is you have no money. To hide any discretions of secret kisses would take some time. If there was a way…” She shook her head sadly and gave a heavy sigh.
With a foggy mind, he tried to deduce what point she was trying to make. Maybe as he plied her with drink he should have controlled his own.
She lifted her head as if an idea had come to her. “I know! Why not sell your land to my brother-in-law? You could take that wealth…”
Michael growled as realization hit him as hard as if he had been struck on the head with a rock. “Enough! I’ve had enough of your lies.”
Emma gave him an indignant look. “I’m not lying. I do not ever lie.”
He walked over to the fireplace, his rage pounding in his head. Then he rounded on her. “Why did you come to see me?”
She leaned forward and placed her glass beside his. “As I said, I found you fascinating, a man so handsome that I wished to experience a kiss from him. Have I not already explained that?”
“So, my land had nothing to do with you calling?”
Emma rose from the couch. “No.”
His heart hurt, for he knew she was lying. “Do not deny it! You came in order to seduce me with your words – and perhaps your body - so I would sell my land.”
The woman glared at him. “And have you not tried to woo me into your arms? This tale of the Three Kisses was meant to weaken me, was it not?” Michael shook his head, but she continued, her face showing her defiance. “You accuse me of being a liar, yet the lies you spout go well beyond anything you might accuse me of.” She stumbled, but then she placed a hand on the back of the sofa to steady herself.
He would get the truth from her even if he had to choke it out of her! “I ask you again, does my land have anything to do with your arrival?”
She pursed her lips and jutted her chin. “I will be the person with honor, since you refuse to be. It had everything to do with it. My family needs your land, and I thought to catch your eye…and perhaps even allow you to kiss me in order to get what I came for.” She sighed and sat heavily on the couch. “But in truth, I still find you a fascinating man, and I cannot seem to help myself.” She said the last as if to herself.
“Now I know you lie, for there is nothing interesting about me.”
Emma looked up at him. “But there is,” she insisted. Then she shrugged. “If you do not believe me, then so be it, but I have not lied. I only stretched the truth a bit. I do find you fascinating and want to learn more about you. That is a full truth.”
He walked over and sat beside her. “There is much about you that I would like to know, for you have not been forthright with my questions thus far.”
“And neither have you,” she replied heatedly. She looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry. If you believe anything I say, believe that I’m sorry for not being completely honest with you.”
Michael looked away. He had once forgiven and trusted, but in the end it had destroyed him. How could he possibly place himself in the same situation? Doing so would only lead to heartache.
Yet, what if Emma was different? What if she was being truthful?
Then her soft voice came to his ear. “I have an idea, one I believe will serve us both. We shall each ask a question of the other, and we must answer truthfully.”
The fire crackled and sparks sprayed as a log shifted. Michael considered the idea but was afraid of what she might learn. He had held his life so close to his heart, to reveal any could send his world crashing down around him.
“It was a silly idea,” she said. “We can speak of something else.”
He studied Emma for a moment. She held as many secrets as he, and the curiosity he had for this woman won out over his concerns. “No. I think it is a very good idea. I will go first. How did you come to learn the different skills you have acquired? No woman of the ton knows these things, and there is no finishing school that would teach them.”
Emma did not hesitate to reply. “My brother-in-law, Stephen, is skilled in many areas and was kind enough to allow me to watch him perform different tasks.”
The thought of a man such as Lord Chambers possessing such skills was more likely, but still dubious. “I suppose I can accept that as an answer,” he replied.
She narrowed his eyes. “I promised to be as forthcoming as I could with my answers.”
He held up a hand as if defending himself. “Fine. Now your question for me.”
“Why do you not have a table on which to dine?”
It was a fair question, but he did not want to answer, so he took another large drink of his brandy. He should pay more attention to his drinking or he would end the night sprawled on the floor in a drunken stupor. Only fools drank that much.
He almost laughed. Was he not that fool on most occasions?
“This exchange will only be beneficial if you participate,” Emma chastised. “If you fear I will repeat what you tell me to others, I can assure you that I will not.” She grabbed his glass out of his hand and went to refill it, as well as hers.
For a reason he could not explain, Michael wanted nothing more than to trust this woman, but his past reminded him of the consequences of such trust. Yet, as she offered him the glass once more, her smile eased his worry. No matter how he treated her, she smiled, and he knew the one she gave him now was not meant to allure him. It was that softness that pulled at his heart.
“Many years ago, I was married to a woman named Caroline,” he replied. “I thought we could do anything together and that our future was endless.” Emotion choked him, and he had to swallow hard. “When Caroline died, I grew angry and sold everything I could in the house. What I did not sell, I burned.”
“Did you love her?”
Brandy sloshed over the rim of his glass as he turned. “Did I love her?” he asked incredulously. “Why would I not?” He realized he was holding his glass so tightly, he was surprised it had not broken. Closing his eyes, he brought his voice back under control. “What you mean to ask is, if I loved her, how could I have killed her?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, that is what I wish to know.”
“What does it matter if I tell you? You would only think I lied to protect myself.”
To his amazement, she placed a hand on his. “Tell me. I will believe you.”
He considered pulling his hand away, but he enjoyed the feeling of her skin
touching his. “No, I did not kill her. Contrary to what the ton believes, I did not take her life. Are you happy now?”
“I am. I see in your eyes that you are innocent. My heart told me that you could never commit such a horrible sin.” She stared at her wine. “I have never loved anyone before. Well, there was Luke, but I only believed I loved him when I did not.”
“You have saved yourself from heartache, then,” he said. “Love and the tales of it are nothing but lies.” He forced himself to loosen his grip on the glass once more. Then he frowned. “Are you not one of those silly women who dream of love?”
“I am,” she said, her words more slurred than they had been previously. “I often dream that a hero waits for me. A man who is kind and brave, one with whom I can share both my dreams and nightmares. To tell him my worries in life.”
He snorted. “Worries in life?” he asked. “Tell me, Miss Shepherd, what worries could possibly trouble you? Did you once arrive late to a ball? Or perhaps you forgot your gloves at a friend’s house while you were busy gossiping about people like me.” He leaned forward. “It is women like you whom I despise.”
Emma stood and glared down at him. She turned and, much to his shock, pulled the shirt down off her shoulders. The act was not what stunned him, however, but rather the faint scars he had not noticed before, perhaps a dozen of them crisscrossing her back, faded over the years but still evident.
“I worry about the man who did this to me,” she whispered, “and what would happen if he found me and did it again. That is why I dream of my hero, for only he can save me from the fear that has gripped me every day for a very long time.”
She pulled the shirt back over her shoulders and retied the collar. When she faced him once more, a single tear rolled down her cheek, causing his heart to clench.
“Now I will tell you about my past,” she whispered. “It all began when my mother married Phillip, my stepfather.”
Chapter Eleven
Emma sipped her wine, surprised that her hand no longer shook when she thought of her stepfather. For a reason beyond her understanding, she had felt compelled to share with Michael the worries on her heart. Perhaps it was the drink, but she suspected it was more an urging from deep inside her, a need to know if this man could be of help somehow.
“At first, Phillip was kind to us, but I could not help but feel that something else lurked behind his smile, something sinister. It was not until our mother fell ill that the true man emerged, a man with a horrible temper and one who would resort to punishments of which I dare not speak. Nearly two years ago, my sisters and I learned that Phillip sold our hands in marriage to three of his friends, all men thrice our age.”
Michael shifted in his seat. “He sold you?” he asked incredulously.
Emma nodded. “He did, as if we were property rather than his stepdaughters. The men did not conceal their desire for us. In fact, they made it known that we were to spend the majority of our years in their beds. So, Constance made a plan of escape. During a party Phillip gave, we left Lankster Manor to go to London, knowing we would never return.”
“How did you come to be at Sweetspire Estates? Did you go to London first?”
Emma bit at her lip. She had to be careful not to reveal too many details about Stephen and those at the camp. “No, we thought it best to find refuge at Louisa’s house rather than go all the way to London. Thankfully, Louisa greeted us with welcome arms and allowed us to stay for as long as we wanted.”
Michael rose and returned with a nearly empty wine bottle. Had she drunk that much? As the room shifted in her view, she realized that, indeed, she had. Well, she could do nothing about it now. For now, she would enjoy its effects.
She nearly giggled. For the first time, she noticed the dimples in the baron’s cheeks. They were adorable!
“Your story is fascinating,” Michael said. “No, that is not the right word. It is sorrowful.”
“Yes, it was, but I believe each day is like a new page in a book. Hardships are now behind me and better days are ahead.”
“May I ask about your scars?” he said, sending a shiver down her spine. “And why are you fearful of a man you have not seen in nearly two years?”
“The scars…” Emma blinked back tears. The words desperately wanted to leap from her tongue, but she could not allow them to tumble willy-nilly. But when she saw compassion on Michael’s face, she knew she could trust him. “I have never told a soul, and I ask that what I share with you will never be repeated. Please, it is important.”
“I will never share what you confide in me,” he said with a salute that made her smile, if only for a moment. “You may think me a murderer, but my word is my bond.”
“It was three months before we escaped, Constance and Mary were working on their embroidery, and I was alone in my room. Phillip told me that Lord Oswald, the man to whom he later sold me, wished to spend time with me alone.”
“In your bedchambers?” Michael asked, his voice rising. “Surely the man did not suggest such a thing!”
Emma looked up and could do nothing to stop the tears from falling. “It is true,” she whispered, her heart heavy. “I refused, and Phillip left my room and returned with a switch…” She struggled to finish as the pain washed over her. But he wiped away the tears and she summoned the strength to continue. “I cried into my pillow as he hit me. I never told Constance or Mary, for I knew it would cause them to worry. There is much more to tell, but I will not tonight, save this. A man was hired to find us and… Let us just say, he did not succeed.”
The images of that fateful night when Hawk - and Louisa - died played in her mind, and she had to push them back in order to finish her story.
“I now have terrible dreams of Lord Oswald returning one day, but I will not allow him to take me away. I would rather die than be forced to marry him!” The last she cried out as grief of the past and fear for the future overtook her.
“Have you not told your sisters of your nightmares?” Michael asked.
“I have told no one.” She looked him in the eye. “Except you, a man I trust.” She took a sip of her wine to give her a moment to gather herself. “So, that is why I wish to love one day. To have someone who is my hero who will take away that pain and fear that presides over me. Is that too much to ask?”
“It is more complicated than you may realize,” Michael replied.
Without thought, Emma placed her head against the man’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her, a hold not of lust but of comfort. The only sounds in the room beyond the crackling of the fire was his heartbeat in her ear. She had poured out her heart to him, and now in his embrace, she wished to be there forever.
Michael sighed as he placed his glass on the floor, wobbling as he did so. “You have trusted me with your story,” he said, his words more a mumble than speech. “I will now ask the same for what I will tell you.”
“I will never tell a soul,” she promised as she looked up at him. “You can trust me with anything.”
He smiled, and it was not of arrogance as it had been before but of confirmation that he believed her. The sadness she felt dissipated, replaced by something she could not name. She reached out and entwined her hand in his.
“You asked me if I loved Caroline,” he said, his words as soft as silk. “I did. I loved her very much, but the truth was, she did not love me. Her father wished us to marry, as did her mother, and for a time, I believed she wished it, as well. Many nights, I whispered my love to her, and during the day as I worked, her well-being was my only consideration.”
“Then she died,” Emma said. “Leaving you heartbroken.”
“No. It was more than her death. I learned she was having an affair. With a man with whom she had fallen in love, no less. And what did I do? I forgave her. I told her we would continue with our marriage, and she agreed. But…” His words trailed off as he looked at the fire.
Emma’s heart broke for him. “What happened?”
“She be
came with child, and I was not the father. Again, I forgave her and was willing to look past her indiscretions. I even said I would accept the child as my own.” He laughed, a bitter sound. “Yet, she continued the affair. It was on a return journey from seeing him that she fell from her horse and was killed.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emma whispered. “You did not deserve that.”
“Do not pity me. Nor her.”
Emma did pity them both, but she kept that to herself. “And the ton? They still accuse you of her murder. Do they not know the truth?”
Michael shook his head. “No, and they never will.”
Emma sat up and stared at him. “But why? Do you not see? Speaking the truth would clear your name.”
“At the expense of hers?” he said, turning toward her. “No. As much as she tore my heart in half, I would not do that to her. I want to remember the woman I married, the woman I thought she was, not the one I came to know.”
Emma wiped tears from her eyes. “You are strong, and your motives noble.”
Michael laughed. “A hero. That is what you called me the day I pulled you from the river.”
Emma stared at him. She did remember uttering the word, and she had also said it when she had woken from her dream…in his arms. “That is because that is what you are.”
“I am many things, Emma Shepherd, but I can assure you, a hero is not one of them. You spoke of love, and I have shared what love does to a person. It destroys you and everyone around you. Remember that, for it will serve you well.”
“I will do no such thing,” she retorted. “I cannot speak from experience of love as you have, but I do believe it will be returned to you one day.” Her heart ached for the man, for she saw him as the man he truly was. He was not a drunkard or a rogue, but rather a man who had opened his heart only to have it destroyed.
“It does not matter now. I will tell you one more thing. You smiled at me because you hoped to win me over, to convince me to sell my land, correct?”
“Yes. I will not lie, but that was my purpose for being here as I told you before.”
Barons Always Win Wagers (Forbidden Kisses Book 3) Page 8