His Dark Enchantress (Books We Love Regency Romance) (8 page)

“You’re looking a mi
te peeky this morning. A little too exciting perhaps?”

Giles came quietly in to the room and placed a plate of hot bread in front of Emmaline. He poured tea for her and left as silently as he had come.
Emmaline, aware of Mrs. Babbidge’s penetrating gaze, added a little sugar and milk to her tea and slowly stirred it. There was nothing for it, she would have to confess.

“Yes, indeed, Aunt.
So much so that I felt fevered and requested to be brought home early.”

“
And spoil his Lordship’s party?” Mrs. Babbidge looked at her disapprovingly.

“He was so kind in procuring the vouchers, and Juliana and Mr. Beamish were enjoying themselves so much, I did not want to break up their party
but I felt most unwell.”

“Hmph.” Mrs. Babbidge settled herself back in her chair. “I’ve never known you to act like a schoolroom miss, y
oung lady. Now, tell your Great-Aunt Babbidge what’s amiss. Might it be that you do not welcome his Lordship’s attentions?”

Emmaline jerked upright. “Welcome his att
entions? It is nothing like that. And he is not paying attention to me.”

“That’s not what
it looks like to me.” Mrs. Babbidge watched as Emmaline sipped her tea. “Give him the nod and you’d have a ring on your finger in no time. And what could please your grandpapa more than to engage yourself to a member of the
ton
?”

Emmaline pushed her chair back and got to her feet, her fists clenched.

“Aunt, I cannot do it. It is monstrous that I should have to look for a marriage that I do not want, simply because I cannot inherit Baymoor. I do not understand why Grandpapa put the property in trust.”

Mrs. Babbidge got out of her chair and took Emmaline in a comforting embrace.

“You know why, my love. Your father showed no interest in managing the estate. Your grandfather did what he thought was best, and now that he hasn’t much time left he wants to know that you are settled and will be cared for.”

“It is so unfair!” Emmaline was close to tears again. “I have managed Baymoor for
three years. It is my home, Aunt, I have the right to it.”

“No, Em, you don’t. Not
under the terms of the trust.” Mrs. Babbidge took her by the arms and gave her a gentle shake. “The only way for you to maintain your status is to marry and to have a son, you know that.”

Emmaline set her jaw and raised her chin.

“Which gives me the same status as my mare,Sadie.” Bitterness echoed in her voice. “I will stay with grandpapa until the end. When he no longer needs me, I will open a school. There are people who will help me, and Lord knows the parish needs it.”

The
rap of the knocker on the front door prevented her great-aunt from further comment. Emmaline’s heart leapt in her chest and battered against the cage of her ribs. She raised her trembling fingers to her lips to catch the name she was about to utter, but was too late.

Her aunt heard it. Mrs. Babbidge opened her eyes wide with pleasure and a smile split her face, making rosy round apples of her cheeks.

“See? I knew you were not averse to him.”

“Nonsense, Aunt.” Emmaline straightened her back. “He is merely being polite for Juliana’s sake. And I bear with him for the same reason.”

Giles opened the door.

“His Lordship has arrived, Miss Em.”

Mrs. Babbidge continued to beam at her. “Come along, you goose. I’ll help you with your hat, that’s all you need this fine morning.”

Her aunt hurried her into the hall, where she set Emmaline’s
blue silk shako hat on top of her dark curls.

“Now you just behave like a proper lady
should,” she said. “Here’s your gloves and riding crop. Let me look at you.”

P
ride shone in her eyes and she nudged Emmaline towards the door.

Emmaline took a deep breath and stepped out into the bright morning to meet the tormentor of her soul.

CHAPTER 6

“Good morning, Miss Devereux.”

“Good morning, my Lord.”

Lucius chuckled and at the sound Emmaline set her jaw and lifted her chin.

“Does it kill you to b
e polite to me?” Lucius asked, his voice as soft as the silk lavender gown she had worn to Almack’s.

“Cuts me to the core,” Emmaline responded promptly.

He laughed at that and escorted her to the waiting riding party.

“I hope you find Psyche to your liking,” he said, indicating the perfectly groomed dark brown mare that Noble held.

“She’s very pretty.” Emmaline patted the mare’s neck before allowing Noble to assist her in to the saddle.

Lucius mounted his own horse and with a clatter of hooves they made their way towards the park. Beamish rode ahead with Lucius while Noble brought up the rear.

“Is all well
?” Juliana reached across from her horse, caught Emmaline’s hand and gave it a little squeeze.

Emmaline returned the pressure. “I’m so sorry, Juliana, but I’m afraid your brother appears to bring out the worst in me.”

“Don’t feel badly about that, it is a reaction many people experience.” Juliana smiled a little as she thought of how best to explain her brother’s behaviour. “Lucius can often be overbearing. I think it stems from him having inherited the title at such a young age. He was but fifteen when our Papa died and I think losing him greatly affected Lucius.”

“I’m sorry, I did
not know that.”

“Well, it was a long time ago. Caroline tells me they were on very good terms and she would remember, being the eldest of us three. Lucius tried ve
ry hard to be responsible but became quite wayward after he went to Oxford.”

“
I remember you telling me he was considered quite the rake. But, rake or not, you are so lucky to have a family.” A wistful tone twisted in Emmaline’s voice.

“Not all the time.” Juliana checked her mount which showed signs of wanting to forge ahead. “Both Lucius and Caroline, who I know mean well, are doing their best to marry me off to gentlemen who do not inspire me in the slightest.”

Emmaline took note of the words but didn’t miss the softness with which they were spoken.

“Mr. Beamish has still not spoken to your brother?” she whispered.

Juliana shook her head. “The opportunity has not yet presented itself.”

“How did you come to know Mr. Beamish?”

“His father’s estate borders Avondale Park and he and Lucius practically grew up together. They are close in age, you know, and went up to Oxford within a term of each other.”

“Oh, I see.”

Juliana shot her an amused glance. “They are opposites, are they not?”

Emmaline smiled at her friend’s perception.

“Maybe that’s what makes them friends,” she said.

Once in the p
ark and trotting smartly along Rotten Row, Emmaline silently agreed with Mrs. Babbidge that it was, indeed, a fine morning. Sunlight glinted off the waters of the Serpentine, a light breeze tweaked the leaves on the trees and the green turf beside the tan-covered ride stretched invitingly before her. A little demon of daring whispered in Emmaline’s ear but was drowned out by a question from Juliana.

“
Did you enjoy last evening?”

Emmaline bit her lip. There was no way s
he could tell Juliana the truth, that her feelings for Lucius had grown more quickly, more deeply than she could have ever believed and that, when she stepped into his arms, she had not wanted to step out of them.

“It is a long time since I have been in the company of so many people,” she said. “I
was simply overcome by it all. I am so sorry I spoiled your evening.”

“You
did not spoil my evening, silly.”

“No?” Emmaline gave Juliana
a sideways glance.

“Well, maybe a tad,” Ju
liana admitted with a smile. “I enjoyed Mr. Beamish’s company very much.”

“Aha – now comes the truth of it!”

“As does my brother.”

Emmaline looked up to see Lucius trotting towards them. He sat his horse in perfect balance
. Beneath lowered lids she glanced at the long, firm muscles of his thighs, imagined his slim fingers that were even now encased in black leather riding gloves, closing around hers. She swallowed hard.

“Juliana, I have to ask you quickly – have you divulged any information from my letters to your brother?”

“None. You know I would not.”

Emmaline
cast Juliana a grateful smile but Lucius was too close for her to say more.

“I trust the air has revived you this morning?” he asked
of her as he drew alongside.

“Indeed, my Lord, I am now feeling quite well,” Emmaline acknowledged. The little demon was back, its voice stronger now. She turned her head and looked Lucius directly in the eye. “The only thing that could possibly make me feel any better would be to race you to the end of the
ride, for I know I would win.”

As soon as she uttered the words, Emmaline could have bitten her tongue. Why had she let
that demon spur her to issue such a challenge? She gulped. Too late now to retract it.

“That is an offer I cannot refuse,” Lucius said with a slow smile. “But what should be the prize to the winner?”

Momentarily flustered, Emmaline sought for an answer.

“Admission,” she said finally. “Admission that the winner is the better rider.”

“A bold statement from one who has only today met her mount.”

“She is female, is she not?”

Lucius nodded and the smile continued to play across his lips. The mare’s prancing and Emmaline’s spirit would make for an interesting combination.

“
Which means we will fare very well together.” Emmaline gathered up her reins and steadied the mare who was already snatching at her bit with anticipation. “Mr. Noble, please give us a count of three.”

Lucius, smiling
widely now at the seriousness of her expression and not her challenge, expertly manoeuvred his bay thoroughbred beside Psyche. Noble steadily counted to three as instructed and the two horses sprang forward.

Focusing her
gaze over the mare’s head, Emmaline ignored the sound of the horse beside her and closed her ears to the outright laughter of the man astride it. She turned her head to look over her shoulder.

“Don’t you dare let me win!” she shouted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!”
Lucius returned as he edged ahead.

Allowing
him to take the lead by half a length, Emmaline loosened her hold on the reins. Psyche surged forward, her legs reaching, hooves pounding. She heard the sharp, snorting breath of Lucius’ horse as she passed it.

The wind rushed in her face
, brought spots of high colour to her cheeks and a smile to her lips as she now drew ahead of her competitor. She urged Psyche onward, relishing the freedom and power of the headlong gallop.

It wasn’t until she reached the end of the Row that she realized
she was alone. She reined in and cantered in a slow circle, looking back to see where Lucius could be.

He had dismounted and
together with Noble was inspecting the bay’s foreleg. Beamish held Noble’s hack while Juliana leant forward in her saddle, a concerned frown upon her face. Emmaline rode towards them.

“What happened?” she asked as she drew rein beside them.

Lucius looked up. In spite of his concern for his horse’s wellbeing, one glance at Emmaline’s flushed face and brilliant eyes were enough to start that slow, familiar surge in his lower belly. He groaned inwardly.

What was it about her that elicited this response in him?

One look from her, he thought angrily, one thought of her and his body responded like an adolescent. He collected his thoughts and answered her question.

“
I believe Archer has strained a tendon, poor fellow. He’ll be sore for a while.”

Emmaline watched as Lucius ran his hand down the horse’s leg, his long fingers gently probing for the injury. Satisfied, he stood up and patted
Archer’s neck. The horse nudged his shoulder.

“Juliana and I will return Miss Devereux to her home,” Beamish offered.

“Not without Noble, you won’t,” Lucius countered. He stood up, his face stern. “I will walk Archer home. Noble can ride with you and then bring Psyche along.”

“I don’t like leaving you, my Lord,” Noble protested.

“The choice is not yours to make, Noble. You have an order.”

“That’s as maybe,” responded Noble stoutly, “but
Archer should be in my care. You take my hack, my Lord.”

“And have my peers see me astride that nag?”

Noble puffed out his cheeks and looked down his nose in disgust. “That nag, as you refer to him, took care of you well enough in the hunting field when you were wet behind the ears so don’t insult him now.”