Wicked Designs (The League of Rogues) (24 page)

“Can you even be seduced over ice cream?” She curved her lips in a small but suggestive smile. His answering grin nearly melted her insides.

“You’d be surprised.”

Godric handed her a knife, fork and spoon. Emily smiled ruefully as he went to shut and lock his bedroom door, closing them in together.

“Am I going to eat here on your bed?”

“
We
are going to eat on my bed,” he corrected as he sat down next to her.

“But…”

It was too nice, too sweet, to think that he wanted to share a meal so privately with her. Emily shied away from him, knowing if he touched her, she’d lose her tenuous grip on control. Half of her wanted to toss the food off the bed and taste him instead. The other half knew that each moment she spent with him, she drew one step closer to losing her heart.

“Eat, my dear, or you won’t get to the ice cream.”

Emily sighed and started on the soup and pudding.

Godric ate alongside her, the silence surprisingly pleasant. It was a simple joy, to have him so close, just existing in a space so near her.

“How is your ankle?” Godric set his tray down on the floor and reached for her leg. He pushed her skirts up past her knee. Shivers shot up Emily’s spine.

“It is much better. I think it will be all right soon enough. I often hurt myself that way as a child. I never sat still long enough. My mother said I was quite the hoyden. That’s why she started to educate me in all of those languages.” Emily settled back into the pillows of the bed, shifting her shoulders for the best position of relaxation. Memories of her childhood unfurled like brightly colored flags in the wind.

Godric’s palm moved over her leg as he listened to her talk. Emily knew she ought to be ashamed for letting him touch her so boldly, but they’d done so much together already that she couldn’t bring herself to resist such a simple, sweet touch.

“Learning was the only way she kept me still. We used to hole up in the library for hours, reading stories in other languages. She challenged me, rewarded me when I did well.” Emily smiled. That her mother persuaded her to abandon the outdoors for at least an hour so she might read was miraculous. “We used to hide from Father when he came to look for us at lunchtime. I will never forget when we hid under the table by the door and snuck out the door past him. He came into the dining room and found us already eating. I don’t think he ever figured out how we did that. Mother was so clever.” She batted away a tear.

“I imagine she was a wonderful woman.” Godric caressed Emily’s leg again, toying with the edge of the stocking near the knee, as though he longed to slide it off her. Emily felt her breath quicken but she struggled to remain calm.

“She was a great woman. My father said the world always needed more women like her. He wanted me to be as intelligent as she was.” Tears prickled Emily’s eyes, but they didn’t sting. They were tears of acceptance from remembering happier days. Would she ever feel that way again?

Godric stole her attention as he pulled her onto his lap, picked up the bowl of ice cream, and held a spoonful to her lips. He’d abandoned his cravat and waistcoat, the white lawn shirt molded to his frame. He rested his chin on her shoulder as he watched her eat. To sit on his lap, to feel him as he held her close, shot Emily onto a plane of wonder.

“I want to know everything about you, Emily. Tell me the story of your life.”

“The story of my life? There isn’t much. I’ve spent more time dreaming about a life yet to be lived than actually living it. My father was not ambitious and had no love of town. We rarely went to London and I’ve never set foot off English soil. My parents, however, were often gone. My father had part ownership of a shipping company and he would travel to the various ports to see how the business was getting on. He always took my mother…they were so in love.”

Flashes of memory, her father’s fleeting smiles at her mother as she donned her traveling cloak. The brush of lips on her chubby child cheek as they headed for their hired coach, leaving her behind, clutching Mrs. Danvers’ skirts. If only she’d known this would be their last trip. When her parents had left, she’d been deep in the woods behind their cottage, sketching wildflowers and birds for an essay she was writing. She’d arrived an hour too late to say goodbye and this haunted her.

Emily would have given her soul to go back in time and make herself leave her sketching for another day and return home early. She would have held her mother tight, clung to her father, and begged them not to go. One never knew the mistakes one might make, nor the price to be paid until it was too late.

Godric seemed to sense her distance and brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “You wish to travel?” His free hand dipped his spoon into her bowl and stole her ice cream.

“More than anything, I want to…”

“You want to what?”

“It’s silly.”

Godric abandoned his spoon to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “Tell me.”

It was so easy to give in, to surrender to anything he asked of her, when he touched her like that. “My father left me his interest in the company as my inheritance. A fair amount of money came with it and would have gone to my husband upon marriage. I’d hoped to marry someone who’d allow me take over my interest in the company and manage the books. I could travel, see the world when I had the chance. Wouldn’t it be glorious to have an opportunity to live? I want to bathe in the Mediterranean Sea, I want to feel the Egyptian sun on my skin, and I want to throw a snowball in the Pyrenees. I want to taste the Indian curries, and see the temples of the Orient…”

Godric’s eyes softened.

“Those aren’t silly wishes.” Godric’s hand against her cheek moved down her neck, a fingertip drawing a line down towards her collarbone. Emily wanted nothing more in that moment than to live her dreams with him.

“Perhaps not, but I am silly for hoping they will ever happen.” She set down her spoon and bowl.

When it was clear he would not release her, she settled back in his arms. He wrapped himself around her, burying his face in the groove between her neck and shoulder, his lips pressing into her skin. Emily’s head fell back against his shoulder as he moved his mouth up her neck towards her ear, nipping her lobe. She sighed, a haze of warmth coiled around her body. She could have slipped into sleep, safe in his arms. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed nine times. The distant pings roused Godric and he eased her off his lap.

“I must go down and see to the others. I shall be back soon and we’ll go to bed.” He didn’t wait for her to protest but left her alone to sit and wait.

The five men stood around the billiard table in the drawing room. Cedric lined up his shot while Lucien and Charles told the others about their time in London.

“We ran across Blankenship in Hyde Park,” Charles said, swirling a glass of brandy.

Ashton’s eyes flashed. “Really?”

“Yes, I took the time to remind him of his debt to me,” Lucien said. “It seems, he’s quite clever in his financial practices. He takes investments from men like me and uses them to break men like…Albert Parr. I asked around today and it seems that there are hints here and there which point to Blankenship having masterminded Parr’s money troubles.”

Godric picked up a cue from the wooden stand up against the wall. “I wonder if Blankenship bankrupted Parr just to obtain Emily…” He studied the billiard table then looked at Lucien. “How did Blankenship’s debt to you come about?”

Lucien took his time in answering. Once he pocketed two balls, he answered Godric’s question. “I’ve only met him once. I sold him one of my smaller properties in France, the little cottage near the Château de Chenonceau.”

Charles sighed wistfully. “I rather liked that place…”

“Well, Blankenship has the deed to it. He’s only paid me the down payment.” Lucien’s face darkened, his features stilling into coolness. “He hasn’t sent me the remainder for the property.”

Godric almost pitied Blankenship. Those who dared to cheat Lucien of anything could end up on the wrong end of a dueling pistol.

“You don’t think he’ll try to swindle you?” asked Ashton.

“No, I am far too careful to fall into such traps, as is he to be caught using them. He’s simply delaying payment to the last possible moment for the sake of interest.”

“What was he doing in Hyde Park?” Godric’s turn was up. He gripped his cue and took his shot, and missed pocketing a ball by an inch. His mind was decidedly elsewhere and his game suffered for it.

“Not sure. He seemed awfully smug when he saw us, the blighter.” Charles growled.

Godric smothered a laugh. They all hated Blankenship for the sole reason that he believed Emily belonged to him. Godric tried not to dwell on the thought. It only reminded him of his own less than respectful behavior.

“That does not bode well. I had my concerns about him since he came here with the magistrate,” Ashton said.

“He won’t rest until Emily is his,” Cedric said.

“Then he will be a very tired man indeed.” Godric fought the urge to pace through the halls of the house until all his energy was spent. “We must be vigilant,” he said, and the others agreed.

Cedric grinned. “Besides running into Blankenship, I assume you enjoyed yourselves?”

“Indeed we did! Lucien has quite a knack for picking out women who like to experiment. They had these splendid toys imported from—”

“
Ahem
.” Ashton coughed. “As much as we all enjoy tales of your and Lucien’s depravity, Charles, there is an innocent young lady under this roof who should not overhear you boasting of your conquests.”

Godric stifled a laugh. Once again, his thoughts were drawn to Emily. He’d left her in his bedroom, unable to trust himself with her a moment longer. But he did not simply seek the pleasures of her flesh. He wanted to be with her completely, body and soul. Had he ever been with a woman that way? If he had it must have been years ago… He set the cue down on the table, drawing the attention of the other men. The time for waiting was over. He wanted her and if he was any judge of women, she wanted him just as much.

“Excuse me. I have to check on Emily.”

“Of course you do…” Charles chuckled. “I imagine you’ll need to check on her all night.”

Godric ignored the laughter that followed him as he left the room.

Emily was stretched out on her stomach, reading a collection of essays about philosophy when Godric entered. Her eyes lifted from the pages as he shut his door and leaned back on it, arms crossed. One dark brow rose, as did one corner of his mouth. Her heart leapt. She had the urge to bolt and hide in the underbrush like a startled fawn. The embers between them had smoldered beneath the surface far too long, and would finally be tended to. There would be no going back. Did she trust him?

Yes. Far more than she ought to, but it was too late to question that part of her heart that gave itself over to him.

“Come to me, darling.” Like the serpent offering her an apple, his tone promised to educate her with all of the things an innocent young woman shouldn’t know.

The book fell from her hands and she eased up into a sitting position. Her mind was clouding with heady desire. He had to be as desperate for this as she was. Emily let her legs dangle over the side of the bed and leaned back, hands behind her hips and chin raised, offering him what she hoped was a come-hither look.

“If it’s me you want, then come.”

The wolfish gleam in his eyes told her he knew she was trying to control the situation. Finally, he pushed away from the closed door and came to her.

Godric cupped her face with one hand, his eyes flicking to her lips. “Emily, you’re driving me mad.”

“You think this has been easy for me? You know how I feel, but for you the choice is easy and free of consequence. For me? I’m giving up so much to be with you. Please tell me you understand that…” She didn’t want to beg, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“I do…” Godric moved his hands from her shoulders to the neck of her shirt, gripping its edges. In one swift movement he ripped it clean in two, then slid it off her arms and tossed it away. It fluttered to the ground, a white symbol of her surrender.

“You will never regret this choice. I vow it.” His voice was ragged as he cupped her shoulders.

“Godric…” She tried to put a hand out to steady him. His whole body shook as his fingers quickly untied her stays.

“Not another word, vixen. The hound has come, and there is no escape.” Her mind flashed with the image of a red-coated fox caught between the teeth of a hound. She had always been the fox to him, and he had won.

Godric’s hands moved down to her feet, unlacing her boots and dropping them to the floor. He peeled her stockings off next. Emily lay still, watching as he worked on the hooks of her skirt before he slid it to the floor. He stood back, slowly taking off his shirt and casting his boots aside. He started to remove his breeches, but stopped when she shifted uneasily on the bed.

“Now you fear me?”

Emily thought she heard a hint of concern in his tone.
Of course I fear you. You take control of everything, demand I give you everything, not just my body.
Fear danced through her insides, pulling her back. Breaths became shallow, her heart tapping an unsteady, faint rhythm. Would he accidentally hurt her?

He’d taken her from her carriage by force and subdued her. But as their days together passed, he’d also shown a gentleness he was unable to hide. Would the heartless rake or the wounded soul take possession of her?