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Authors: Lauren Smith

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Wicked Designs (The League of Rogues) (27 page)

BOOK: Wicked Designs (The League of Rogues)
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“Let her come, Godric. Fresh air is good for a woman like Emily,” Cedric said.

“You truly desire to sit about in a boat for several hours in the sun?” Godric’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

“You’d be there with me, wouldn’t you?” Emily’s hand underneath the table settled lightly on top of his hand. “And if you fall in and pretend to drown, I can pretend to rescue you again.”

Godric sighed in defeat and shot a rather mutinous glare at Cedric. “Fishing it is then. Give me one hour in my study. I’ve a few things to attend to.” Godric got up from the table and left Emily alone with the other four lords.

Emily finished her hot chocolate before jumping up to follow Godric.

Charles half rose, ready to follow her but Ashton put a hand on his forearm.

“Rest easy, Charles. She is not going anywhere.”

“How can you be sure? The little sprite has run us ragged over the past few days! How do you know she’s not giving it another go?”

“It is obvious you’ve never been in love before. Emily doesn’t want to let Godric out of her sight. She’s attached to him now more than ever.”

Charles sat back down. “You’re saying that she won’t run because she’s infatuated with him?”

“Some people spend their entire lives falling in love again and again, over and over. Others fall in love that first time, and it is a true spark of love rather than a passing fancy. What Emily has shown towards Godric is not infatuation.” Ashton sighed and took a long sip of his coffee. “And that’s what worries me.”

He prayed to God that Godric knew what he was doing. If Emily was harmed physically or emotionally it would hurt them all.

To think that the infamous League of Rogues hung on the happiness of one young woman.

Emily paused at the open doorway to Godric’s study. He was seated at his desk, pouring over ledgers and letters. She took the opportunity to memorize his features, paint them on the canvas of her mind, and burn them into her heart—the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, the strong hands that gripped the pages, the lean muscled legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

With a tentative step she crossed study’s threshold. The wooden floor creaked. Godric glanced up at her, smiled and resumed his work. Perhaps another woman would have been upset that she hadn’t been addressed. But Godric’s polite acceptance of her trespass had a wholly different meaning. It represented trust. She didn’t wish to ruin the moment by being bothersome and distracting. She selected a book from the shelves, a botanical discussion of plants native to Kent, and settled herself on the couch near him.

After a quarter of an hour she looked up to find Godric glaring down at a ledger before him, his teeth gritted in a silent snarl. Emily set her book down and got up from the couch, coming behind Godric and studying what had upset him. It was a messy book of accounts, very ill-kept and confusing. But Emily’s keen eye located instantly where the numbers were incorrectly calculated.

She put a hand on his left shoulder, her fingers curled into his shirt. “Oh dear. May I help?”

He turned his head in surprise as though not even aware of her presence.

“What?”

She gestured to the books. “Is this how you keep all your books?”

“It’s how I was taught.”

“But it’s so confusing the way you’ve set up your columns of numbers.”

Godric grinned. “It’s how business is done, darling.”

This time she arched a brow. “Yes, I know, I’ve seen it before.
In businesses that have failed
. Your structure is wrong. It’s a wonder I can even follow the entries.”

“You know about accounting?”

“Yes, in fact, I do. Would you like me to fix the errors for you? I can tidy it up in a new book if you have a spare one—”

He gaped at her. “You’re serious?”

“I helped my father with his.” Emily shooed him out of his chair and sat, pulling the ledger closer and taking an empty book when he fetched it for her. She turned the old book back to the first page and started his accounts over. “Numbers are far less confusing when you arrange them correctly,” she said. “Let the sums add themselves, as it were.”

In less than an hour she’d corrected all of the miscalculations as well as highlighted the weaker investments he’d made, her uncle’s mine scheme included. Godric leaned back against the desk next to her.

“Just when I have myself convinced that I’ve learned everything about you, you surprise me.” He twined a lock of her hair about his fingers, eyes warm on her face.

Emily preened. “Then you’re pleased with me?” She wanted to be sure she had not injured his male pride. Men were such fragile creatures.

“What do you think?” Godric pulled her up and into his embrace. He laid a languid kiss on her, fingers digging into her lower back as he pushed her closer to his body.

“I suspect that is a yes.”

Godric kept his arms about her waist, nuzzling her neck, the embrace sweet rather than sensual.

“Do you really wish to go fishing, darling? We could empty the house of the others and have it all to ourselves.” He flicked his tongue inside her ear.

Desire sparked through her like a lightning strike. As much as she wanted to be right back in bed, uniting herself with him, she worried he might tire of her. She needed him to spend time with her outside the bedroom.

She had to keep him wanting her because, the moment he stopped, her heart would shatter and she’d have to take Penelope and leave. She’d never want or love another man as she did Godric. He hadn’t just drawn his name on her body, he’d carved it into her heart.

“I do want to fish.” She toyed with the folds of his cravat. He caught her hands, lifting them up to his mouth for a kiss.

“I could certainly make you change your mind.” The rich timbre of his voice warmed her.

“I know you could, but we mustn’t neglect your friends. They are so kind to keep you company while you hold me captive. You ought to repay them with your presence at least during the day.”

“You still see yourself as a prisoner?” asked Godric.

She considered this. She still felt caged by the situation, but the in last day, she had felt distinctly less a captive and something far more.

“No. But, we do need to be more social. I cannot lie in bed with you all day.” No matter how enjoyable that might be.

Godric smiled and tucked her arm in his. “You, my dear, have a resolve made of stone, and a silver tongue.” He sighed as they got up to rejoin the others.

Cedric and Lucien held the fishing poles and Charles a box of lures. Penelope sat patiently at Ashton’s feet, her little black nose upturned as she looked from man to man, waiting and watching, knowing something was afoot.

“Ready?” Cedric made no attempt to conceal is boyish excitement as he brushed his chestnut hair back from his forehead. His brown eyes glowed with the fervent expectation of their future fishing expedition.

“Yes, we are.” Emily left Godric’s side as she caught up with Cedric and Lucien.

“Did Emily join you in your study after breakfast?” Ashton asked Godric, as they watched Emily and the others.

“Yes, and wouldn’t you know it, she helped me sort out my investment ledger. You know how dreadful I am at it. She’s an excellent mathematician. She got me well sorted out.”

“It seems she is still keeping secrets from us. Emily told me she had no head for business.”

“Indeed.” Godric nodded. “But your choice of Italian this morning was smart. She caught none of what we said, I am sure. She would have certainly blushed.”

“I meant what I said. You have to be careful with her. She’s too young to be a mother.”

“Ash, not today, please. I’ve heard enough of your scolding. Can’t I just enjoy Emily? She is happy, I am happy, you ought to be happy.”

When Ashton’s gaze did not subside Godric continued. “No matter if Emily was to have a dozen babies pulling at her apron, she would never lose that innocence. It is something not even time in bed can cure, and I am glad for that. It makes each moment precious.” It was the first time he’d admitted such emotion aloud, but Ashton only smiled.

“As long as you see the value of it for what it is, that Emily is indeed precious, there is still hope for you.” Ashton’s blue eyes were grayer today filled with contemplation and concern.

Godric patted his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll not do wrong by her, Ash. You have my word on that.”

“I am glad to hear it. So long as you treat her kindly you will both be happy.”

“Perhaps.” Godric knew Emily more and more each day, and while she was gentle to a fault, her rebellious streak was not so much a streak as an impossibly deep river, a river that would never dry up, and never turn its course.

The truth was, he could not do without her. Being with her was like winning the right to breathe. He had to have her, all of her, for as long as he could.

The outing had been an enjoyable one. Cedric was delighted at their catch of perch and wanted to stay out longer, but when the skies above the manor darkened, the group decided to return to shore.

Lucien studied the clouds. “Nasty turn in the weather.”

Emily glanced at the marquess. “Do you think it will storm tonight?”

“We could certainly use the rain, but it will make the roads dreadful for any sort of travel”

A low rumble of thunder rippled across the meadow as they walked back to the manor. The sinister crash from the skies churned Godric’s stomach. Deep in his bones he sensed something was amiss.

Simkins met them in the hallway, his face strained. “Your Grace, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Godric nodded to Cedric and Lucien to take Emily to the drawing room. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Simkins struggled to maintain his composure. “Yes, Your Grace. She is in the parlor.”

“She?”

“It is Miss Mirabeau to see you.”

Godric cursed. What the devil was she doing here? He made it clear she was never to darken his doorway again.

Godric patted Simkins’s shoulder. “Thank you, Simkins. I’ll see her now.”

They had once been lovers, but she hadn’t understood him and the way he approached his servants. He’d suffered her bad attitude towards his household. Having been born to a family of exiled French aristocrats, she had different expectations of relationships between the classes. Godric viewed a few of his servants like extended family and Evangeline had most vehemently objected to such closeness. The memory of their final fight over her treatment of Simkins left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Evangeline sat primly on the couch near the fireplace, but her demure expression did not fool him one bit. She loved to play at being a lady, but during their time together, Godric hadn’t wanted a lady.

“Miss Mirabeau, good evening.” She stood up, offering her hand to him. He ignored it and bowed stiffly.

“Why, Godric, we are friends. You mustn’t be so formal.” She laughed as though amused at his cold reception. Her French accent was softer when she spoke with him. He used to love hearing her breathe his name in the heat of passion.

“I’ll be happy to drop formalities. In fact, let us be brief. You’re not welcome in my house. What are you doing here?” He wanted her gone, now. She’d no right to come here and disturb his life. Godric especially didn’t want Emily to find out about her.

Evangeline turned away from him as she retrieved her fan, swaying her shapely hips. Her dampened salmon-colored gown revealed too much of her body but the sight did not move him.

She dug a letter out of her reticule and handed it over to him. Her eyes ran up and down him as he read.

He placed the letter back into her hands. “I never sent this.”

She looked confused, and reached out, putting a hand on his forearm, “But…but
mon amour
, this is your hand. After all of those letters you’ve written to me, how could I not recognize it? Do you remember…? How you used to tell me all of the wicked things you wished to do to me?” She pushed her chest forward, though it was hardly necessary.

The thought of bedding this woman no longer held any appeal. “Those days are long past and I wrote no letter asking you to come here. I will instruct your coach to come around.” It must be some new scheme of hers. Likely she’d forged it herself in attempt to create a reason to come out here and rekindle their relationship.


Mon dieu
. I didn’t bring mine. I came on a hired coach. It only just left before the storm started. I could not possibly leave.”

Godric opened his mouth, closed it. What the devil was she playing at?

“Besides, I’ve sent my servants away for few days. It would be impossible to find suitable replacements before they return.”

He pulled away from her. She was a black stain on his life that he wanted desperately to erase. “You may stay the night and dine in your room. I expect you to leave no later than tomorrow at noon. Do not trouble me or my guests.”

She fluttered her lashes. “Trouble?
Moi
? Godric, since when have I ever been troublesome?”

He clasped his hands behind his back to resist the temptation to strangle the damn woman. “When? There was the time you spilled tea on my entire collection of cravats when I wouldn’t buy you that emerald necklace you wanted.”

BOOK: Wicked Designs (The League of Rogues)
7.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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