Rogues and Ripped Bodices (36 page)

It was hard not to pace outside the study door as Alexander
pored over the books. Emma had tried to distract herself by going over the meal
plan for Christmas Day with the cook but with only the two of them and then the
small amount of servants to feed, it hardly needed much planning.

Emma then tried to pen a letter
to her brother, to tell him she couldn’t do it anymore. The estate simply would
not cover his bills anymore. It wasn’t fair to Alexander. But guilt jabbed at
her and she crumpled the paper and threw it in the fire.

Was it Geoffrey’s fault their
father had never claimed him? Was it his fault he had been orphaned at such a
young age? How could a man be expected to better himself with no education and
no family for support? She was all he had. He had never really asked for
anything from her, but she knew he would struggle to survive without her aid,
and he was her only sibling even if they only shared a father.

She dropped her head to the
desk and rested it against the cool leather for several moments. What would she
do? Alexander was bound to figure out she was using estate money elsewhere and
she certainly didn’t want to lie to him, but no one knew of Geoffrey’s
existence, not even her mother. Her mother, for all her coldness, had loved her
father. It would break her heart if the truth came out.

Drawing in a breath, she lifted
her head and wrung her hands together. Perhaps she should just tell the duke.
She hadn’t been sure how he might react. With anger perhaps? That had seemed
likely before. He had always seemed so annoyed with her, but after yesterday,
she wasn’t so sure.

Mr Hampton’s voice from the
hall stirred her from her thoughts and she stood to investigate.

“Shoo,” came the butler’s
voice.

Emma put her head around the
door and saw a scraggy ball of fluff trying to chew on Mr Hampton’s leg. The
butler attempted to shake off the animal and his cries of annoyance grew
louder.

“Shoo, bloody mutt.”

She peered at the filthy ball
and realised it was indeed a dog. She strode into the hallway and the butler
froze, a dog hanging off his leg.

“Oh, Your Grace, forgive me.”

Emma had to smother a laugh at
the sight of the stern-faced butler trying to ignore the dog who was becoming
increasingly persistent. Growls emanated from the filthy ball of fur. She was
still vaguely annoyed with him for getting in the way of her seduction attempt
so it was no less than he deserved, she decided.

“Is there a problem, Mr
Hampton?” Her serious tone cracked into a snigger.

“No, Your Grace, just—”

The dog’s growls increased in
volume when Mr Hampton started shaking his leg again. Then the study door swung
open and Alexander popped his head out. “What in the devil is that noise?” He
glanced down to spot the dog and he stepped out of the study. “What is that?”

“Nothing, Your Grace,” Mr
Hampton said, his face as stern as ever.

Emma released a bubble of
laughter and Alexander glanced at her, at first surprised, then his eyes
crinkled and he grinned.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,
Hampton. Would you like a hand?”

“No, Your Grace. I can manage
it.” He shook his leg again.

This time the laughter consumed
her and Emma felt tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, Alexander, do help poor Mr
Hampton.”

Laughing, Alexander bent to try
to disengage the dog from the butler’s leg. After much growling and shaking,
the dog released his trouser leg only to latch into Alexander’s jacket sleeve.
Emma found herself almost doubled over with laughter.

“What the devil—”

“He has taken a liking to you,
Your Grace,” Emma said, swiping her eyes. “Wherever did you find him, Mr
Hampton?”

“I had just stepped out to find
Mr Thompson who was bringing in some firewood and this
thing
followed me
in and attached himself to me.”

Taking pity on Alexander, who
was having no luck getting the dog to leave him alone, Emma persuaded him to
keep his arm still while she clutched the soaking, filthy dog and rubbed behind
his ears.

“Be careful,” Alexander warned
her. “Don’t let him bite you.”

“He won’t bite me. Just keep
still. You’re scaring him.”

“Scaring him?” He looked at her
incredulously. “He’s the one biting my arm.”

“Shh... Poor love, he’s so cold
and wet. He’s probably worried you’ll send him back out in the cold.”

“And I won’t?”

She gave him a stern look. “No,
you will not.” She continued to pet the dog until he stilled and finally
released Alexander’s sleeve. Alexander shook out his arm and eyed the damage to
his jacket with a scowl.

Emma bundled the wet creature
against her, ignoring the stain he created on her gown and how damp her sleeves
had grown while handling him. “Mr Hampton, will you send for some warm milk and
see if we have some cooked ham from last night left?”

Mr Hampton looked as though he
would rather walk over hot coals, but regardless the butler turned and headed
towards the kitchens.

Carrying the dog to the drawing
room, she pulled off the same blanket she had bundled Alexander up in from the
chair and wrapped it around the dog before kneeling in front of the fire. “Poor
creature,” she cooed to the pup.

Alexander stood over her for a
while as she rubbed the dog’s fur. Once some of the grime was gone, his white
colouring became apparent and the dog’s pink tongue hung from his mouth.

“He likes you,” Alexander said
somewhat begrudgingly.

“He’s a fine dog. Just a little
mucky and cold. Poor thing.”

Alexander came to kneel next to
her and lifted the dog’s paw before checking in the creature’s mouth. The dog
had become quite placid with Emma’s attentions and seemed happy to be prodded
and poked. Seeing the duke’s large, tanned hand against the pup’s fur sent a
well of longing through her.

 “He’s not in bad health though
he’s only young. He’s going to be a beast of an animal.”

“How do you know?”

Alexander lifted one large paw.
“Look at the size of these. He’ll grow into them.”

“Well he’s only one dog. How
much room can one dog take up? We won’t send him back out there, will we?”

The duke’s expression softened
and he rubbed a hand over the dog’s head. “No, no we won’t.”

Mr Hampton arrived with a tray
and placed it on the table with a look of disgust.

“Mr Hampton,” Emma called
before the butler could leave. “Will you have the maids bring in and fill a
small tub. I should like to clean him up.”

Alexander grinned as Mr Hampton
pivoted and left the room, muttering something about filthy animals. “I am
assuming you mean the dog, though we are both a little worse for wear.” He
motioned to his sleeve and her gown.

She laughed. “I have no
intention of cleaning a grown man.”

“If I roll about in mud and get
myself soaked to the skin, might you change your mind?”

Images of sleek, hard muscles,
wet and soapy, flitted through her thoughts. The fire seemed too close all of a
sudden and she drew back a little. His gaze skimmed her body and her nipples
tightened against her bodice. Then his grin was back and the moment vanished.
Emma didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“What shall we call this mutt
then?” he said as he stood to bring over the milk and ham.

“He’s not a mutt, are you?” She
cradled the dog’s face and received a lick to her hands. “How about Snowy?”

He made a face and placed the
milk in front of the animal. The dog wasted no time in slurping up the milk and
once Alexander placed down the platter of ham, the creature wolfed that down
too. “Greedy more like. But Snowy? Not very original.”

“Does it need to be original?
He’s white... well, sort of white, and he came in from the snow. I think it’s
just perfect.”

“Very well, Snowy it is then.”
He rubbed a hand behind the dog’s ear. “Looks like you’ve found yourself a new
home, Snowy.”

Emma sank onto her bottom and
took in the scene. Snowy scrabbled his paws up Alexander’s arm and gave him a
long lick across his face. Her husband chuckled and fought to keep the dog at
bay. Emma’s heart warmed. To think she had been so intimidated by her husband.
She really hadn’t known him well at all. Would he understand about her brother?
Was there a chance for something more than an empty marriage for them? Seeing
him now, with his warm smile and crinkled eyes, she realised it wasn’t just a
baby she wanted from him. She wanted a proper marriage.

She would have to tell him. It
was the only way. All she had to do was summon the courage.

The maids brought in a small
tub of warm water and soap, placing it in front of the fire. Alexander shed his
jacket and rolled his sleeves up, apparently committed to getting the filthy
animal clean. Her own sleeves would not go far up but her gown was already
covered in grime and melted snow, so Emma resigned herself to getting a little
wet.

Together they coaxed the dog
into the water and amidst splashing and a few barks, they scrubbed him clean,
Alexander holding him down while she rubbed his fur. By the time they had
finished, they were soaked, Snowy lived up to his name and the water was
filthy.

Holding out the blanket, Emma
wrapped it around Snowy as the duke handed him over. She rubbed the dog as best
as she could but he wriggled quickly out of her hold and shook himself off
before settling on one of the chairs, his chin resting on an arm. They both
laughed.

“I guess that’s all the thanks
we’re going to get for giving him a home.”

“He does look quite right there
though, does he not?”

Alexander tilted his head to
view the dog and laughed. “
He
does not.
She
does, however.”

“She?”

“Yes, you are the mama of a
beautiful girl, it seems, Your Grace.”

An ache formed in her chest. He
could have no idea how much she longed for a little girl—or a little boy—to
look after. This year had been the loneliest of her life. Her mother had
remarried shortly before her own wedding and was enjoying her new life with her
husband. Not that Mother had ever been one to take much time with her daughter.
The only thing she thought could end her loneliness would be a child. But now
she was not so sure. Could Alexander be the key to her happiness after all?

His grin dropped and he stared
at her, his gaze seeming to reach deep inside her to pull at her heart. A wet
hand came towards her and pressed into her hair that had steadily come loose
from its pins. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said roughly.

How perceptive of him. She had
thought him quite in ignorance of her feelings, but perhaps there was more to
the duke than a simple boyish attitude and a tendency to seem annoyed with her.

“I’m not upset.” Her voice was
but a shadow of itself as his wet palm cradled her face. It should have felt
cold but instead her skin flamed at the coarse touch. Here was the hand of a
man of action. Alexander was no pampered duke, no lazy, self-indulgent
nobleman. As much as it frustrated her that his passion for outdoor activity
had taken him from her, she could not help admire his courage and
determination.

If only he would turn some of
that determination on her. But perhaps she could summon enough for both of
them. Perhaps her determination to have a proper marriage would be enough.

On their knees, they inched
closer. Her clothes and hair were wet and the sleeves of his shirt were almost
transparent. He had several drops of water trickling down his face so she swept
some away from his brow. His hand slipped around the back of her neck. She
found herself struggling to remember to breathe.

Her lips parted and they both
rose fully onto their knees. She looped her arms around his neck. It happened
so agonisingly slowly, but she could only relish each moment as their bodies
pressed together, hip to hip, chest to chest. Against the broad strength of
him, she perhaps should have felt intimidated or fragile, but she felt strong,
protected, as though his power fed into her.

Warm, firm lips met hers. His
grip on the back of her neck tightened. No thrum of apprehension ran through
her, only a shimmer of excitement. Alexander parted his lips and coaxed hers
apart to slide his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of coffee and she met his
tongue with her own. The sensation of heat and warmth was enough to make her
moan.

The kiss didn’t last long
enough, but it left her feeling hot and tingly. He did not break away entirely
when it ended. He kept his hand on her neck and used the other to sweep away
some damp curls from her face.

“Emma,” he murmured.

Her name had never sounded so
sweet before. It sounded almost like an apology, or words of love or desire.
She couldn’t be sure but he had certainly never said her name like that before.

“Alexander,” she replied,
hoping to convey some of what she was feeling in his name too. Emma was not
sure what it was she was feeling, but it was new and exciting. She felt like a
little girl on Christmas Eve, all tense with exhilaration and anticipation.