His Beautiful Wench (22 page)

“Are you angry at my suggestion?” She scurried to keep up, anxious for confirmation that he didn’t think her cruel for wanting them to risk their lives for money.

He smiled again and squeezed her hand. “No, wench. I’m a dead man whether I return them or not.
If
he finds me.”

She nodded. “So we’ll run? With the jewels?” Her heart constricted in the moments she awaited his answer.

“Oh yes, we’ll run, with them.”

Chapter Eight

Matilda’s cottage windows emitted no light. The disc of the moon hung above the ocean but offered scant illumination past the heavy gray clouds. The rain had thankfully held off, and Amelia prayed it would stay away a little while longer—until they knew whether Matilda would harbor them until morning. What if they were asking too much of her? What if she decided she couldn’t risk hiding them? It was unfair of them to ask, but they had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to. Emmett’s ship wasn’t an option. She’d wager that would be the first place Graham’s men would look. Matilda’s the second. They’d risked being caught by not riding the horse all the way here, but Amelia didn’t want John or Helena implicated in helping her. If the horse made it back to the castle and John could get it stabled in time, Graham wouldn’t know John and Helena had a hand in her escape. She worried about Graham sending his men here, but if all went well, they would be safe at least until sunrise.

At the door, Emmett knocked softly.

“Who is it?” Matilda asked, a quaver in her voice.

“It’s only us,” he said.

The door creaked open and Matilda’s beaming smile greeted them. She ushered them inside and lit a lamp on the living room mantel, then placed her finger to her lips.

“The women have not long been in bed. We had no callers. The cold snap undoubtedly kept them away.”

Matilda moved toward the short hallway leading to the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?” She laughed and tightened the sash on her dressing gown. “I didn’t expect to see you until Emmett had to set sail. I thought you’d have taken private rooms and stayed there, what with this being your wedding day.” She stilled her hands at the kitchen door and turned to stare at Emmett, then looked Amelia up and down. “The green dress. Where is it? Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

Amelia nodded, guilt filling her at the worry on Matilda’s face. “I…We didn’t get married. Something—”

“What?” Matilda said, her frown deepening. “Why ever not?”

“Shall we explain over tea?” Emmett asked.

In the kitchen, Matilda bustled around the stove. Emmett and Amelia sat side by side at the table and related the recent events.

“None of this is your fault,” Matilda said, moving a lock of Amelia’s hair from her face. She stood abruptly and leaned both palms on the table. “You must take the jewels and make a new life elsewhere. It isn’t safe to remain here.” She pushed off the table and paced before the fireplace, finger to her lips.

Amelia stared at her, worry fueling the shakes that grew in ferocity the longer they sat in silence. Emmett rested his head in his hands, elbows on the table, and his foot tapped out an agitated beat. Amelia clasped her fingers, the tick of the case clock in the living room a faint accompaniment to Emmett’s and Matilda’s.

Finally, Matilda stopped pacing. “You will stay in the basement bedroom until it is time for Emmett to leave.” She glanced to the left of the back door to another that led to the pantry and the laundry room. “The rug.” She nodded at it. “Will hide the basement trapdoor should anyone arrive and wish to search the place. I will visit Emmett’s ship and ensure—”

“But you can’t! I won’t let you become involved to that degree!” Amelia said, eyes so wide they hurt.

“As I said, I will visit Emmett’s ship and ensure his crew ready it for leaving and keep their mouths shut. A little coin works wonders to help persuade. Once the ship is prepared, it will leave without Emmett.”

“What?” Emmett said, eyes narrowed. “I need to be on that ship!”

“And you will be,” Matilda said, once again leaning on the table. “Except you will have left the docks earlier in a smaller boat and will meet the ship once it has sailed around the spit. You’ll take the jewels with you and sell them at the nearest port.”

“But what about Amelia?” Emmett asked, taking her hand. “She won’t be safe here either.”

“She will be fine here. I will give the women a week’s paid holiday—that is all the time we need—and if anyone calls, she can hide in the basement. Amelia,” Matilda looked at her, “you will leave five days after Emmett and sail to the next port. Emmett, you will meet her there.”

“Why five days?” Amelia asked, glancing at Emmett then back at Matilda.

“In case Graham’s men are watching. And they will, you know that. After five days of not seeing you, I would guess they’d think you had already left town. If you wear that cloak you have on and tie back your hair when you go to the docks, I doubt very much they will recognize you—providing you keep your head down. This will also give Emmett time to sell the jewels and return to his ship to wait for you.”

Emmett sighed then sipped some tea. “It’s a better plan than I had. Amelia?” He glanced at her. “Are you willing to try it?”

She nodded. “We have to. We can’t stay here. Would it be too dangerous to send word to Helena and John?”

Matilda nodded. “The least amount of people who know of this, the better.”

“Would you try to see her once we have gone? I would like her to have a jewel. The sale of it would give her enough money to leave Graham’s employ and get her family away from here.”

“That is so kind, so like you, Amelia. Of course I will give her the jewel. So!” Matilda said, striding to the kitchen door. “The basement is already set up with a bed. As you know, the room is used for the more vocal visitors. You’ll find clean sheets and the like on the shelves in the linens room, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to lay that rug over the trapdoor and go to my bed. We’ll discuss the plans in more detail tomorrow when the women have gone. I’ll send them off early. We don’t want anyone else overhearing, do we?” She smiled and picked up a lantern. “Now go and settle yourselves below—and try to sleep well. I washed your dress, Amelia.”

“Thank you.”

Amelia stood and followed Emmett into the room beside the kitchen. She selected clean sheets and pillowcases and waited while Emmett pulled open the trapdoor. He went down the wooden steps first, pausing halfway to take the lantern from Matilda. Amelia followed him down and stared up through the hatch at Matilda.

“Thank you so much,” she said.

Matilda’s smile reached her eyes. “Good night, my friend.”

“Good night.”

The door closed and the thud of Matilda’s feet rang out above. Then came the sound of the rug being dragged into position, a loud scuff that reverberated around the basement. Amelia stood at the foot of the stairs until Matilda’s footsteps faded. She turned to find Emmett changing the sheets, the dirty linen in a pile beside the iron bed that dominated the rear wall. Small cabinets stood on either side, a lamp on top of each, and she picked up Matilda’s lamp from the floor and moved to light the wicks. The room brightened and the cream walls and their painted landscapes came into view. Flagstones chilled her feet and she remembered she’d left her shoes under the kitchen table. The fact that Emmett hadn’t spoken since they had been upstairs worried Amelia and she touched his back as he stood from tucking a sheet under the mattress. He stuffed a pillow into its case and Amelia finished making the bed while he attended to the other pillow. She smoothed the cover with sudden jerks and whirled to tell Emmett just how much she hated the lord, face hot and tears close.

“I hate him for what he’s done.” She shook her head.

“Amelia, please! Forget him and everything he has done.” He sighed, crushing her to his chest. “We have no choice but to flee. He will never rest until he has you, otherwise. My love, look at me.”

She lifted her head and all her anger seeped away as their gazes met. On tiptoe, she offered him her lips and he brushed his mouth over them, taking away her ire. A rush of desire swept through her, consuming everything but the need to have him close, inside her, hands roaming her body. She deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue between his lips, wanting his to touch hers so she could convey her devotion to him. He smoothed his hands down her back, pressing her pelvis to his erection. God, she loved the feel of him, of Emmett needing her like this. Her cunt moistened, her juices seeping onto her inner thighs, and she released a small moan as her nub throbbed. Gripping his shoulders, she loved him with her mouth, his erection growing harder.

Gently, he broke the kiss and pushed her to the bed, the backs of her knees butting the mattress edge. He stared down at her as she waited for his next move, her breaths coming out in short pants and her heart thudding. He reached down and lifted her skirt, bunching it at her waist, looking at her for confirmation that he could sup her juices. She nodded, excitement tightening her belly, her nub throbbing harder.

He lowered to the floor and parted her legs, kneeling between them. “I’m going to taste you, wench. Suck and lick your cream, give you pleasure. Love you.”

His fingertips massaged her inner thighs, the light touches sending more desire to her slit, making her wetter. He dipped his head, glancing up at her, the look flipping her tummy and urging her to jam her hands in his hair, lowering his head so he tasted her right that minute. He lowered his gaze then flicked his tongue out to taste her skin. The heat of it set her on fire and she gasped, anticipation of him licking her folds almost too much to bear. Amelia sank her hands into his hair, loving the softness of it against her palms, and held his head steady. His hot breath kissed her folds a moment before his lips, then his tongue parted her folds from base to tip, circling her bud. Tingles spread from there to her core and she raised her hips, nudging her cunt to his mouth. He licked harder, faster, swirling the tip of his tongue around her sensitive spot, and she gritted her teeth to hold off her spiraling pleasure. His maddening tongue movements increased in speed and pressure, overtaking her ability to wait. Hot lust gripped her and she tightened her hold on his hair, bucking with every sweep of his tongue. Heady sensations warmed her and sweat trickled into her hairline.

“Oh God, Emmett!” she whispered, lifting her buttocks, needing more abrasion.

He complied, quickly flicking his tongue left and right, and her release built, excitement raging through her as she chased the ultimate bliss. It peaked, the pleasure of it raw and sharp, and she cried out, riding the wave as it slowly receded then intensified again with the harder brush of his tongue. Her pelvis jolted and Emmett slid his hands beneath her, holding her to him, his tongue unmerciful. She wanted him to stop, yet at the same time reveled in the power his mouth wielded, wishing she could drown in the sensations flowing from her bud. They receded, ebbing into the same fierce ache that pulsed in her nipples. She scooped one breast free of the dress and fondled the hard peak, fingernail thrumming the tip. Desire spiraled from there to her core, reigniting the waning fire in her center. Crying out again, she released Emmett’s hair and cupped his cheek.

He lifted his head, lips and chin wet with her juices, and pulled her buttocks to the edge of the bed. “I love making you come, wench.” Still kneeling, he undid his breeches and thrust his cock into her, his passage easy with her slickness. “And I’m going to do it all over again.”

Gaining a quick rhythm, he moved in and out, hands smoothing over her belly. His hardness, the width of him, filled her, completed her, and she tweaked her nipple harder.

Emmett watched her, his gaze lust-filled. “God, you touching yourself sends me insane. Everything about you does, you teasing—” He jabbed into her. “Playful—” He pulled out to the tip then slammed back inside. “Beautiful wench.”

He swooped down, sucking the fingers that caressed her peak. She stopped fondling and allowed him to take over, his mouth and tongue bringing on a fresh wash of desire. Once again she fisted his hair, sweeping her head from side to side. He grazed her nipple with his teeth and stabs of ecstasy spread, there and in her cunt.

Emmett released her nipple and raised his head, freeing her other breast, then covered both globes, thumbs stroking the tips, pumping his cock harder. Amelia stared up at him, licking her lips, wanting his mouth on hers. He lowered, loosing a low grunt as his cock thickened, vein pulsing. She kissed him, tasting the tang of her juices, and moved her hands under his shirt to his lower back, pushing him closer. He ground his pelvis over her nub, the graze nudging her closer to another forceful release. Snatching his mouth away, he brushed his lips over her collarbone and she closed her eyes, listening to their labored breaths and skin slapping skin. The sounds increased her desire and she strove for the pinnacle, hands leaving his hips to pinch her nipples.

“Ah, wench!” he ground out, his voice low and gravelly. “You…ah… See? You drive me insane!”

His cock hardened even more and she opened her eyes to watch his face as he neared his completion. Raising her legs, she crossed them at the ankles and rested them on his back. He held her waist, slamming her against him with each thrust inside. Her channel contracted, the onset of another pleasure trip imminent, and she held her breath. Emmett grunted and closed his eyes, his hot fluid heating her sheath. He jerked, three quick movements in succession with another shot of semen, and his breath left him in a shuddering gasp.