Rogue Grooms (45 page)

“Then it should be easy to find the Star! We need only look for the person wearing a garland of light.”

David’s voice, so full of laughter only a moment before, was suddenly very serious. “I would say that was you, Emily. You are the garland of light. My
shona
—my gold.”

Emily’s own laughter died away. She turned in his arms, staring up at him. She could not see his face—she could only feel him, sense him. “Why did you come back from India after all these years?”

“I thought it was to see my father’s home again, to take my daughter away from people scheming to marry her off when she is just a child. And I do want those things. But I think that the truth is—I came back to find you again.”

Emily’s throat was thick with unshed tears; her eyes itched with them. This was frightening. More frightening than picking that lock. More frightening than being left alone to tend Fair Oak and her mother. More frightening than anything ever. She could feel pieces of the cocoon with which she had surrounded herself for years chipping and falling away, leaving her naked and vulnerable.

But surely David was worth it. She had been waiting for him since she was a child—since before she was born, even. She was meant for him, and he for her.

But how could something that was meant to be be so scary
^?

Be brave
, she urged herself. It was never more important than now. She leaned against him, her lips finding his in the darkness. They met and clung, their breath mingled, and it was perfect—like a garland of light. His hands drew her across his lap, and she gasped in purest pleasure. This was where she belonged.

When they parted, she buried her face against the curve of his throat. “I am glad you came back, whatever the reason,” she whispered. “For, if you had not, I would have had to go to India myself to find you.”

He held her close, their hearts beating together. “Ami
tomake bhalobashi,”
he said, kissing her hair, her temple, her cheek.

Emily did not ask what that meant—she already knew, in her heart. And her heart whispered back in kind,
I love you.

 

It could have been only moments later, or hours, when Emily felt David stir. Only then did she notice that Johnny and Nell were silent, the thin line of light from their candles gone from beneath the door.

Apparently, the amorous pair had concluded their business and gone back to their duties—which meant that Sir Charles and Lady Innis must surely be returning home very soon.

Emily was still sitting with her head resting on David’s shoulder. They had not spoken for a long while, just sat together in sweet silence, surrounded by the echoes of their breathing and heartbeats.

She could have stayed like that forever, were it not for the fact that they were illegally in someone else’s home, hiding out in a tiny library closet. They had very nearly been caught breaking into the case, and they were not out of danger yet. The jewels still had to be switched, and she had to be home in her bed before Alex and Georgina returned.

But still, despite all of that, this had been a lovely night—one she would not have traded for anything.

She lifted her head from David’s shoulder, staring at the absence of light from beneath the door. “It seems our friends Johnny and Nell have departed,” she murmured.

“Indeed it does,” David answered. She felt him smooth her hair back from her face, his touch tender. “We should conclude our errand before the owners of the house return. Unless we could take a page from Johnny and Nell’s book, and convince them we are just a pair of vagabonds searching for a likely spot for a tryst.”

Emily gave a choked giggle. “I somehow doubt that would work! They do know us, you remember, though perhaps not in our current guises.”

“Ah, well. No doubt you are right. It might have been amusing to try, though.” David gently moved her aside, and she sensed him standing up in the gloom. There was a soft click, and the closet door opened, letting in the glow of moonlight.

“It appears we are alone,” he whispered. “Come, my Boudicca, we should complete our errand and depart.”

Emily nodded, and reached out to take his hand. His fingers entwined with hers, warm and reassuring even through their gloves. He led her into the library, which suddenly seemed vast after their tiny hiding place, to the waiting glass case.

Amazingly, it looked just the same as it had before they were so rudely interrupted. Somehow, she expected the whole world to have changed, just because her own heart was transformed.

She took out the wire again and fit it back into the lock. It had bent when she stuck it into her pocket, though, and would not easily maneuver into place. Emily bit her lip, twisting at it with her fingertips. In the corner, a tall clock tolled the hour in stentorian tones. She started, the wire slipping through her fingers.

Midnight
, she thought, as the last bell echoed away.
The witching hour. How very appropriate.

“It is just the clock, Em,” David said reassuringly. “Everything is fine.”

“Yes,” she answered. She slid the wire in once again, and this time she felt the tiny locking mechanism pop free. She pulled open the case and reached in to clasp the paste Star, her breath suspended. She half-expected bells and whistles to explode in the room, bringing the entire household at a run. She quickly placed the stone securely inside her coat.

But there was nothing. Only the thick silence of the night. Swiftly, her hands trembling, she took out Mr. Jervis’s sapphire and placed it carefully on the satin-swathed platform. It twinkled there in a bar of starlight.

Perfect
. She closed up the case and clicked the lock back into place.

“It is done,” she whispered.

“Then, let us depart.” David clasped her arm and led her toward the half-open window. They were only a few feet away when there was a sudden burst of noise from outside the library.

“I trust your evening was enjoyable, sir,” a man said, in a butler’s deep, mannered tones. At least it was not young Johnny.

Emily froze, as if by standing very, very still she could disappear.

“It was, until that Miss Freeman insisted on playing the harp, Hudson,” Sir Charles Innis replied. “I vow I heard all the dogs on the street howling.”

“Oh, my dear, it was not that bad,” chided Lady Innis, with the crisp rustle of satin, as if she was shedding her evening cloak. “She had great—enthusiasm for the music.”

“Enthusiasm! Is that what they are calling it now?”

“I enjoyed it. Are you going to retire now, my dear?”

“No, no, Alice. You go on. I want to finish some paperwork in the library first.”

Lady Innis laughed. “You mean you want to stare at the Star one more time.”

David tugged at Emily’s arm, pulling her toward the window. She bumped into a chair, and felt the wire fall from her hand onto the carpet. There was no time to retrieve it, though—the knob of the library door was turning.

David shoved open the window, and lifted Emily up to drop her unceremoniously out of it.

“Oof!” she gasped, as she landed in an untidy heap on the grass. She crawled beneath a nearby bush just as David slid out of the casement behind her, as lithe as the jungle cat she had imagined him earlier. He landed silently on the balls of his feet, and ducked down to join her under the bush just as a bellow echoed from the library.

“An open window!” Sir Charles shouted. “How often must I tell those dratted servants how bad the night air is for my artifacts? I won’t allow them in my library in the future!”

The window slammed shut. Emily feared she would again burst into hysterical laughter, and lowered her head to the grass to stifle it. “It is a very good thing Sir Charles does not know what else his servants are up to in the library.”

“I should say not,” David muttered, laughter at the edges of his words. “Come, we need to be away from here.”

Clasping hands, they crawled from beneath the sheltering bush and dashed across the small garden. Emily glanced back as David boosted her over the wall. Every window of the library blazed with light now, but there was no alarm raised. The only sound was that of night birds in their trees, and her own labored breathing. It had been years since she ran so freely over the countryside, and this dash through the city streets made her limbs ache. She paused at the edge of her own street to press her hand to her side, trying to calm her pounding heart.

David, she noticed, appeared as if he had only been out for a summer stroll. He stopped beside her, his own breath only slightly quickened.

Emily leaned against a fence rail that sheltered the servants’ entrance many feet below. She studied David in the light of the waning moon and stars. He seemed an exotic, nighttime mirage, dark and remote, like the god who coveted the jewel and fought a bear for it. Had he really held her in his arms, and whispered such achingly sweet words? Words she had waited a lifetime to hear?

He reached up and pulled the turban from his head, ruffling his black hair. It fell over his brow like satin commas, and Emily could not help herself—she reached up to sweep them back, the strands catching at her fingers like stray silk.

He grinned down at her. “We did it, Em. It is finished.”

She smiled doubtfully. Yes, it was finished. She had what she wanted. Her family was safe. But was his?

The true Star of India was still out there somewhere.

“Yes, we did it!” she said, some of the cold doubt falling away in a sudden rush of exhilaration. “I can scarce believe it.” She threw her arms around him, and felt him lift her from her feet. He twirled her around until the night sky tilted tipsily above her, and she laughed, giddy with delight. “I could not have done it without you.”

“It was glorious fun, Em,” he answered, lowering her slowly to her feet. “I haven’t felt like that since we were children.”

“Well, we shall just have to find other sources of fun, since I do not think I could survive burgling every night. Not to mention running through the London streets!” She paused, and reached up to gently cradle his cheek in her palm. “I have to admit, though—it
was
glorious. I will always remember it.”

David turned his head to press a lingering kiss into her hand. “So will I. But I should be going home now, and you should find your bed before your brother and his wife return.”

Alex and Georgina!
How could she have ever forgotten them? They would be home at any moment, and expected to find her ill in her chamber. Georgina was daring, but not even she would understand midnight thievery.

“Of course,” she said, and went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Shall we meet again soon? I confess I am quite eager to hear more of your cousin’s adventure with that stolen necklace—the one that inspired our little plan tonight.”

“Oh, yes. Nikhil’s necklace.” David smiled at her, and slowly backed away from her embrace. “I would be happy to tell you of it one day. And I am sure we will meet again. Good night, Emily.”

With that, he melted into the shadows, leaving Emily alone. She suddenly noticed how chill the evening air had become; it danced over her neck and arms, raising goosebumps. She stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where David had stood. But she could still sense his gaze, watching her from the darkness.

Only the rattle of carriage wheels broke her strange reverie. She glanced back over her shoulder to see that it was her brother’s equipage, returned from the musicale, coming inexorably toward her.

“Blast!” Emily cursed. How could she have gotten through all the other dangers of the evening, only to be caught by her own silly daydreaming? She ducked her head and ran as fast as she could along behind the houses. Praying that she would not run into any more stray servants, she dashed up the back stairs, pulling off her hat and coat as she went.

She scarcely had time to thrust her borrowed clothes beneath the bed, pull on her dressing gown, and dive beneath the bedclothes. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to control her breathing. Her door clicked open softly, and she heard Georgina whisper, “She is asleep. Poor Emily! Such a grand party she missed.”

Emily smiled secretly into her pillow. A grand party, indeed—if only they knew.

“
I
am glad you are feeling more the thing this morning, Emily,” Georgina said, as she passed a cup of chocolate across the breakfast table to Emily. “It is too bad you missed the musicale last night, but now you can go with me to the mantua-maker this afternoon. There is a new peach-colored muslin there I think you will like.”

“I was also sorry to miss the musicale,” Emily answered. She took the cup, and reached for the rack of toast, despite the fact that she had already eaten three slices. Somehow, she had an uncommon appetite this morning. “I always thoroughly enjoy seeing Mrs. Chamberlain-Woods.”

“Do not be too sorry, Em,” Alex said, turning the page of his newspaper. “Miss Freeman was there with her dreaded harp.”

Emily laughed. “Oh, yes! I heard that all the dogs on the street commenced howling when she . . .” She broke off, suddenly recalling where exactly she had heard that little snippet. From Sir Charles Innis, while she hid in his library.

Georgina gave her a puzzled glance. “Where did you hear such a thing, Emily? The musicale only occurred last night, surely it is too early for such gossip to be spreading.”

“I—must have read it. In one of the papers. They are so quick with tittle-tattle, you know.” She tapped at the paper folded up beside her plate.

“Oh, that one!” Georgina said, with a dismissive little wave of her hand. “It is full of nothing but scurrilous gossip. I am sure no dogs howled at all during Miss Freeman’s, er, most lovely performance. Don’t you agree, Alex darling?”

“Oh, indeed, my dear,” Alex said. “I do believe it was a cat that was howling.”