Chapter 19

Waking the next morning was rather more like rising into a dream than from one. Alex"s face broke into a smile almost immediately upon the opening of his eyes. With Emmaline"s head resting upon his chest, the soft sounds of her breathing assuring him she was still sound asleep, he couldn"t help but hold back laughter at the gentle snoring emanating from her.

Nor could he stop from stroking back the hair from her face just to touch her. But almost immediately, his wife animated.

"Oh, Em, I'm sorry. I didn"t mean to—" he began to apologize but she slipped off the bed so swiftly that it cut him off entirely. "What is the matter?"

Emmaline stood, eyes darting around the room. Without response, she rushed for the water basin sitting on a nearby table.

"Emmaline?"

Alex rose from the bed, more than a little concerned with how pale his wife had grown. And when she white-knuckle held onto the basin with both hands, her head bent over it, gagging, Alex was certain he knew what was coming.

Just as swiftly as she had moved, Alex was behind her, pulling back her hair just seconds before she started to vomit.

"There, there, it"s alright," Alex assured her gently, holding back her hair with one hand whilst rubbing her back with the other. She trembled violently beneath his hand, making small whimpering sounds between bouts of vomiting.

The small amount of water grew murkier and murkier. Though he owned a club and was far too used to the sight of vomit to be disgusted by it, he looked away for her sake, certain she would not wish for him to see such things—ladylike as she was.

"Be calm, my love," he told her gently, rubbing her back until he was certain she had calmed. "It is alright."

Even as the situation calmed, Alex"s mind reeled. Is she ill? Does she regret what we did last evening? Did somebody slip something into her drink last night?

All these things and far worse, some even far more wondrous things, flipped through his mind.

"Emmaline, are you well?" he dared to ask into the near darkness when she leaned back against him, her body still trembling.

"I… I think so."

"Sit," Alex instructed, guiding Emmaline to the nearest chair. She made no protest and Alex hurried to the jacket he had worn the evening before, grabbing his handkerchief from the pocket. Returning to her, he dropped down onto his knees and dabbed her mouth ever so gently before he handed it to her. "Emmaline, forgive my asking this as I know it is not my place to ask until you are ready to tell but do you believe, perhaps, that you might be pregnant?"

Emmaline looked up at him, her eyes wide and wild with the notion. Alex"s own heart skipped a beat. He had not realized until he had spoken just how much the idea thrilled him.

As if she saw the excitement upon his face, she reached out and laid a gentle, soft and lavender-smelling hand upon his cheek. "My delightful duke, I do believe it is far too early for that."

She gazed at him softly as his heart sank. Feeling foolish, and knowing quite well that she was right, he guided her hand down from his face, shaking his head.

"I was a fool to even suggest such a thing. Of course, you are right."

He averted his gaze from hers, embarrassed beyond belief. A feeling he was not in any way used to, one that made him feel quite sick to his stomach himself.

"It is not foolish, Alex," Emmaline said, gripping his hand tightly until it caused him to meet her gaze once more. "It is hopefulness, I suspect."

Alex"s chest swelled for she was right. He was anxious to fulfill his duties.

As if she guessed that, she smiled gently and eased her grip on his hand, never letting go as she assured him, "We will fulfill your father"s wishes soon enough. I am certain."

In that moment, Alex might have gushed with love and adoration for the woman sitting before him. He might have spoken sonnets and rushed to the window to scream his love from the top floor of the building, but before he could do so, there was a knock at the door.

Panic rose in Emmaline"s face. Alex placed a hand on her knee and squeezed gently.

"No cause for alarm, my love," he assured her before rising to his feet. Fighting the urge to remain there with her, he crossed to the door and pulled it ajar. "Yes?"

Finding the face of his closest friend on the other side, he smiled. The twinkle in his eye suggested he knew very well what had happened the night before and was most certainly approving.

"Please, forgive my interruption, Your Grace," Sean said, dipping his head in a most formal manner, though his smirk betrayed his friendly approving boyishness. "But I wished to remind you that you have your usual engagements to uphold."

Alex stiffened. Why did responsibility have to get in the way? He would happily have fallen back into bed for the rest of the day.

"What day is it?" he demanded, his mind still reeling from the night before.

"The third Wednesday of the month, Your Grace."

At that little reminder of just which responsibility he was being called to, he couldn"t help but smile.

"Please have a maid sent up with a fresh basin for us to wash," Alex instructed his friend. "We shall be ready shortly. I shall not be needing your accompaniment this morning. You may take your leave."

Sean looked quite shocked at that.

"Are you certain, Your Grace?" Sean asked and Alex nodded.

He dismissed his friend. "Thank you, Sean."

Then he closed the door and returned to Emmaline whose color was beginning to return to her cheeks.

"Are you unwell, my love?" he asked, dropping down before her once more.

He was relieved when she shook her head. "Perhaps just a little too much wine."

Though he hoped not, Alex suggested, "Perhaps you might return to bed then? I have business I must attend to."

"Oh, of course," Emmaline said, looking quite disappointed. Alex felt it too. He would have happily returned to bed with her never to leave again. "You must attend to your business. Do not concern yourself with me."

Alex reached out and took her hand in his once more. An odd feeling of nervousness fluttered in his chest. "If you are not unwell, perhaps you might join me?"

If he had believed her shocked earlier, he was certain of it now. Her eyes were so wide that Alex felt he could look into her very soul had he tried.

The smile that broke onto her face as her eyes eased caused Alex"s heart to swell with love for her once more.

How did I ever grow so lucky?

His heart pinched then. If only she had been quite so lucky in him.

"I would be honored to join you," she said, squeezing his hand in a way that brought him great relief.

He stood and pulled her gently to her feet, guiding her close so that he might kiss her forehead. Resting his lips against her skin, he said softly, "Good as there is something I wish for you to see."

Perhaps afterwards, you might not judge me so harshly for my demons, he thought with a long, deep sigh.

It was not the nicest place to go to but when they arrived at the St. James Orphanage for Wayward Children, Emmaline seemed to take it all in stride.

She did not turn up her nose at the filth of the place or refuse to engage with the poor little orphans that came rushing to greet them. In fact, Alex thought that he saw admiration in her eyes when she looked at him.

And for once, he looked upon himself less disagreeably, seeing himself through her eyes as all of the children crowded around, tugging on his coattails and begging for a moment of his time.

As the latest two, a boy of no more than six and his little sister, a girl of no more than three, rushed off with the bag of sweets he had brought for them, she turned to him and said, "Do you come here often?"

"Here and places like it," Alex admitted.

"Every third Wednesday of the month?" Emmaline asked, linking her arm with his in a way that made him feel warm and welcome.

He nodded, smiling in a sheepish manner.

"Then I suppose I must write it into my own calendar and come with you," Emmaline suggested, shocking Alex immensely.

He squeezed her hand on his forearm and said, "You do not have to make such a commitment. I merely visit those I sponsor regularly about the city in order to be certain my charity is being used in the correct manner."

His tone was harder than he had anticipated, feeling as if some of his devil"s demeanor was returning to him. It was an annoyance of his, his need to become harsh in order to protect himself when he was beginning to feel vulnerable. He always felt vulnerable around Emmaline. Yet she was the only person in the world he did not wish to be devilish around, at least, not in the way he ordinarily was.

"Is it not a duchess's duty to support her husband?" Emmaline asked. The smile she afforded him made him want to grip her face in his hands and kiss her hard. He barely refrained as another group of children, a pair of girl twins and an even smaller boy, arrived at their feet.

"Alex, Alex, will you play with us in the garden again?" the little boy asked, tugging on the knee of his trousers.

Alex"s cheeks grew hot. The lack of formality exposing his softer side was not something he ordinarily allowed others to see.

Releasing Emmaline"s hand, he dropped down into a crouch before the children and said, "I shall be happy to do so on one condition?"

All three looked at him hopefully.

It was the ragged little boy who grew anxious and demanded, "What's a condition, Alex?"

Alex turned a smile up to Emmaline and slipped his hand into hers once more. "You must allow my wife to play, too."

Alex never imagined he would feel such joy as he did in the carriage on their return home. Never had a visit to the orphanage been quite so tiring. And yet, he felt light as a feather, unable to stop from smiling.

"Are you well, husband?" Emmaline asked from the other side of the carriage and Alex realized he had been staring at her, quite enamored. Still, he saw how she had lifted her skirts and run up and down the courtyard playing catch the mouse with the children. He still saw how they had all flocked to her just as they usually did him.

He had quickly become forgotten in light of the angel among them, and he had happily sat back, watching her play in such a carefree manner that it had pained him to drag her away for the more mundane of his responsibilities.

"I was just…" Alex began, shaking his head. "I am well."

He cleared his throat. He had been about to gush over how lucky he had become. She made him all too vulnerable.

"I know," she said softly, smiling with a twinkle in her eye that set Alex's loins on fire. Nothing needed to be said. He knew, somehow, that she understood.

Perhaps it was the way she leaned forward, sliding her hand up the inner seam of his britches. Or maybe it was simply the fact that she now looked at him in a far kinder manner.

"Emmaline," he whispered softly, placing his hand upon hers to stop her from traveling further.

"Yes?" she said, her lashes fluttering as she looked at him.

"I wish to apologize. I wish I had been able to show you this side of myself before we…" he cut off, feeling flustered. "Before I forced you into all of this. I wish I had wooed you in the proper manner not simply taken you for my—"

This time it was she who cut him off. She slipped off her bench and onto his knee. Taking his face in her palms, she looked him dead in the eye and said, "I am through with being angry about how we began."

Alex cringed. The knowledge that he had ever made her angry made him loathsome.

"I am truly so—" he began again but just as before, she cut him off. This time it was with her lips upon his.

She sat upon his lap, her legs draped to one side, clutching his face in a manner that suggested she had no intention of getting up anytime soon.

"Alex," she whispered against his lips.

"Yes?" he responded, barely able to breathe for his need of her.

At first, she did not respond in words. Instead, she gripped hold of his hand and tugged it down to the hem of her skirts, forcing him to glide his palm up over her stockings, further still to the soft, bare skin of her thigh.

Then she did speak, and as his fingertips were forced onto the moist lips between her thighs, she whispered, "Make love to me."

Alex"s blood boiled but not with anger. It burned with such a need for her that it was painful to try and resist.

He only removed his hand from her skirts to pound on the carriage roof and yell to the coachman, "Drive until I say otherwise!"

Then he slipped his hand beneath her skirts once more. His fingers caressed her until she moaned like a mewling kitten, her face pressed into the crook of his neck. The tugging on his collar suggested she was biting it in an attempt to keep herself quiet. But Alex didn"t want her quiet. He wanted to hear her pleasure.

Gripping the tangle of pinned up curls at the back of her head, he pulled just hard enough to force her face back up to his.

Kissing her passionately, he paused only to growl, "Unbutton my britches."

She did so willingly, making Alex"s loins ache even more painfully.

He was quite shocked when not only did she unbutton them, but she also unfastened the lacings of his undergarments, snatching them forward to expose his rock-hard member.

"Alex, I need you inside me again," she mewled as she lifted her own skirts and shimmied into position atop him.

Her legs straddled him as if he were a horse and happily, he leaned back to watch as she guided herself down on top of him.

The wet, warmth of her body welcoming him in was enough to make him groan through gritted teeth. Never in his life had a woman felt so good.

His hands buried in the folds of her skirt at her hips, and he thrust deep inside her, pulling her down on him until he filled her fit to bursting.

The way her insides squeezed around his throbbing cock almost made him explode right then and there.

He gripped her tighter, easing her up off him only to guide her forcefully back down.

Her hands gripped for purchase on his shoulders as he thrust over and over again, deliciously slowly inside her. With every pump he felt his pleasure growing.

Her soft moaning grew louder with every passing moment until her body trembled uncontrollably, and soon he felt the abrupt and warm release of her juices all over his manhood. It seeped down between his thighs, making everything slick with her pleasure.

And it only urged him on.

Unable to control himself any longer, he picked her up in his arms and guided her back to her own seat. Without removing himself from her, he placed her there and knelt between her wondrous thighs, squeezing them even as he thrust deep inside her once more.

"Oh, Alex!" she screamed loud enough for all of London to hear her. And it only made him thrust harder, faster, until he was so near climax that it would be painful to try and hold it off any longer.

"Oh, fuck, Emmaline! I can"t hold it off any—"

"Then don"t!" she cried, gripping hold of his buttocks to guide him passionately deep inside her.

He exploded with a harsh, animalistic growling groan, the pleasure breaking forth with such ferocity it took his breath away.

And as the wave crashed over him, he wondered how much more pleasurable being inside her could possibly become. The first time had been wonderful. This time it had felt miraculous.

Suddenly, a life filled with duty, responsibility and some remorse did not seem so bad. For he believed that if she could feel this way to him, how could it possibly be otherwise for her? If their lovemaking was to be this way, if she was to be at his side in his duties, he thought that perhaps he might just one day go to his grave a happy man after all.

***

Chapter 20

Emmaline had only heard of the term wedded bliss on a couple of occasions and upon marrying the devil lord, she had believed it was not in the cards for her. But, just two weeks after their first falling into bed together, Emmaline could say without doubt that she felt it.

Spending her days in the luxury of the duke"s—and now her own—London home, free to go about whatever business she desired within reason, she was content, even happy. Spending her nights in the club at her husband"s side was another place she found contentment. So long as she was with him, protected by him, touched by him, she felt safe.

And when he was not around, she felt the oddest little ache in her gut which turned to butterflies the very moment that she saw him again.

Perhaps it had been the way he engaged with the children at the orphanage, or maybe it was just his private personality in general that made her realize he was in fact a good man, but either way she knew it to be true. And, she realized quite surprisingly, she believed she loved that man.

She had even come to love the devil lord. Not his harshness or his need to keep everyone fearful but his ruthlessness did lend a certain feeling of protection wherever she went. It was a wonderful feeling, to be secure.

And then there was the lovemaking. It was the same no matter whether he wore the devil"s mask or not. Either way, he set her blood pulsing, her heart racing, and her arousal dripping between her thighs.

As she sat in the window seat of the library, a book in hand, she could not help thinking of the night before, when he had pulled her into his office in the club and kissed her with only their masks between them.

When he had swept everything off his desk to place her upon it, she had looked into his eyes, and she had seen him. She had felt all of the passion, desire and perhaps even love that he had wished to give to her. And there had been plenty of it as he had hitched up her skirts and dropped to his knees to worship her with the same passionate kisses as her lips.

He showed that same passion with everything that he did from business to his charity work and to making love with her.

Over the last two weeks there had been a great deal of it. In his office at the club, in his study at home, in the sunroom and the breakfast room, even in the secret garden. Emmaline thought his mother would forgive them given the circumstances of his needing an heir. After all, she had the same duties once and Alex had said himself, more than once, that his mother would have liked her.

They had even made love right on the window seat and oh, what a delicious moment that had been, clutching hold of his shoulders even as he held her legs up with his forearms to drive himself deep inside her.

How she had come to know every part of this man in only two weeks was astonishing to her. She only wished that others might see him for who he truly was. And one day, she was determined for it to be so, though she would not have their most intimate parts shared with anyone, save perhaps for a little girlish giggle with her sister, Jane.

And it was Jane that she awaited in the library for their usual weekly afternoon tea and card games, a thing the duke had insisted upon due to his belief that family was the most important thing in the world.

She was, however, most embarrassed when Benedict knocked upon the door to announce her visitor. She could only hope that as she received him, she did not give away the sheer, stifling desire she felt when thinking of all the wondrous things her husband had done to her body of late.

"Thank you, Benedict, you may see my sister in," Emmaline said the moment he arrived in the library, bowing before her.

Having stood on his knock, she adjusted her skirts and cleared her throat, she prayed her cheeks were not as abundantly red as they felt.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I am afraid Lady Jane has not yet arrived."

Startled, Emmaline took a step back, dropping back down onto her seat.

"Oh, well, did I not hear the door?"

Benedict straightened up, one hand held behind his back.

"You did, Your Grace, though it was not the visitor you expected," Benedict said and before Emmaline could question him on who it was, a flurry of skirts entered the room.

"Oh, forgive me Benedict but I could not abide your fluffing," the woman, a most young and beautiful girl of no more than sixteen—perhaps eighteen at most— entered the room and practically threw her arms around Emmaline. "And you must forgive me also, Your Grace, but I could not wait another second to meet you!"

Dumbfounded, Emmaline stood stock still, unsure whether to embrace in return or pull away.

"Your sister-in-law, Your Grace, Lady Lorraine Black," Benedict offered up, his raised eyebrow hinting at his own irritation for the lack of formality.

Emmaline"s heart leapt into her throat. Her mind raced. Sister-in-law?

She thought back, trying harder and harder to remember what Alex might have said of a sibling. Much of it was lost in the passion of his kiss and the thrusting of his hips, though she did distantly remember some mention of a sister, something about France and something else about his accident.

I do not know my husband as well as I thought, she gulped. Why did he not tell me of her visit?

Aloud, she said in a most friendly manner, "Lorraine, I did not know you had returned to London! You do not mind my calling you Lorraine, do you? Please, you must call me Emmaline or even Em as my family do. We are, after all, family, are we not?"

The young woman pulled back and smiled at her. How had she not seen it immediately. She was like a female image of her brother, jet-black luxurious locks, dark eyes, flawless skin. Her only inconsistency was her petite frame compared to his own broad and muscular one, a physique he had earned in the boxing ring during the day at the club—and at night in their bed—one he insisted upon to keep himself in top devil form.

"Oh, yes please, you must," Lorraine insisted, gripping hold Emmaline's hands and squeezing in a most familiar manner. "Please, forgive my dropping in on you like this. I had hoped that Alex would be home so that I might surprise him also. As soon as I received his letter with the wonderful news of your marriage, I knew I simply had to return home to meet you!"

A little panicked by the idea of Alex"s being unaware that his sister had traveled such a distance and turned up unannounced, Emmaline looked instinctively to Benedict.

The man, looking just as she felt, dipped his head and said, "I shall fetch you both tea."

When he rose, the look he offered her over Lorraine's shoulder also suggested a silent, and I shall send word to his grace.

"Thank you, Benedict," Emmaline said. "Please ensure a cup for my sister also. I am sure she shall be here before long."

Again, he dipped his head and hurried off to do her bidding.

"Please, shall we go to the drawing room and sit?" Emmaline suggested, "You must be weary from traveling."

How a woman could look quite so flawless, even in the latest French fashion, after having traveled all the way from where her gown was made, baffled Emmaline.

"Thank you," Lorraine said as they walked through the house to the drawing room. And as Emmaline insisted she take a seat, she added, "I do hope I have not caught you at a bad time. Were you expecting guests?"

"Only my sister," Emmaline said, taking to the seat next to Lorraine on the couch. "I am sure she shall be as glad as I am for you to join us."

In truth, Emmaline was glad. Lorraine"s presence might well help her to get to know her husband further. There was obviously still a great deal for her to learn. But she was also nervous and apprehensive. After all, she had very little knowledge of how her husband might react when he learned of her presence in London. From the little she did know of him, she was well aware he was not the kind of man to look upon surprises as anything more than a distraction.

"I do wish you had sent word," she said, placing her hands on her lap, hoping her sister-in-law would not see how they trembled. "Alex would have been so pleased to welcome you home."

Wouldn"t he? She second guessed herself. Had Lorraine turned up like this because had he known he might have tried to prevent it? Her throat constricted at the uncertainty of the matter.

"Emmaline, I do believe we both know my brother waits around for nobody," Lorraine said, chuckling a little. "He has always been a law unto himself."

Emmaline felt a little relief. She did know that about him. And at least, Lorraine seemed quite pleasant.

She was even more relieved when at that moment Benedict returned with not only tea and a deck of cards but also her sister, Jane, who swept into the room in much the same manner as Lorraine had to greet her with a hug.

"Oh, Emmaline, how I have missed you!" she exclaimed, squeezing her tightly. She pulled back to look her up and down. "You are well, are you not?"

Emmaline bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Jane looked at her in much the same way as everyone else, as if they might one day be the first to receive news that she was carrying the duke"s heir. And after all Emmaline had whispered to her about during their weekly card games, she could hardly blame her.

"Yes, I am well," Emmaline said, smiling. Then she scowled and added, "And no, I am not yet with child."

Though in all honesty, she could not be certain. Her monthly courses had never been entirely reliable, and she and the duke had fallen into bed—and on the floor or on the desk—quite often.

She blushed, remembering those moments and also remembering her newly acquainted sister-in-law sitting only meters away.

Clearing her throat, she took Jane"s hand and turned. "Jane, sister, please allow me to introduce you to my sister-in-law, Lady Lorraine Black."

"Please, dispense with the formalities, Your Grace, we are all sisters here are we not?" Lorraine insisted, rising to her feet in order to greet Jane.

She stepped around the low table between them and opened her arms. "May I?"

Jane glanced at Emmaline before smiling warmly. "Of course! How could I refuse the sister of a duke? Mine own sister!"

The familial energy in the room then eased Emmaline"s nerves somewhat. She watched happily as her half-sister and her newest found sister embraced as if they were old friends.

Lorraine turned to the tray which Benedict had discreetly laid upon the table and said, "Am I right in believing you are to play a game of cards or two?"

"Yes," Jane announced before Emmaline could answer. "You must join us. Mustn"t she, Em?"

Though at first Emmaline had been apprehensive, she found that drinking tea and playing cards with her closest sister and her new sister was just the ticket. For a while, things were light and airy, simple gossip and asking of Lorraine's wondrous travels, talking on all the experiences of France.

Emmaline even started to feel as if she had known the woman for an age rather than a morning.

The lady was friendly, knowledgeable, somewhat like herself in all those regards. Though Emmaline could not brag that she had shared the finest French education.

It was as if the threesome had played cards a thousand times before. The first few games were a little awkward, perhaps even a little tiresome, but eventually they fell into an easy pattern of Lorraine"s winning and Jane coming last, and Jane insisting that Lorraine had to be cheating while Emmaline tried to play mediator.

In a way, it was as if they had their sister Violet back again. Though Emmaline was sure things would have been far more competitive had she been there.

Once the teapot was empty—and they had asked for a fresh pot - and their games had grown wearisome, Emmaline sat back in her chair and asked, "Lorraine, might you tell me what it was like to grow up in this wondrous house?"

She had been trying to come up with a way to probe the woman"s mind all morning. Who better than to help her know her husband than his own dear sister? But how to ask such sensitive questions was quite beyond her. In the end, she decided it was well past time to face the truth. After all, there was no sign of the duke, whether Benedict had sent him word or not.

Immediately upon asking the question, she wished she hadn"t. A visible shiver passed through Lorraine"s petite frame.

She looked down into the empty teacup she still held upon its saucer in her lap. "I am afraid this is not the house I grew up in."

Emmaline"s heart stopped.

"Of course! The fire!" she blurted the words, her hands flying to her mouth upon doing so, eyes bulging out of her skull.

Lorraine looked quite surprised at that. Though she seemed to quickly take it in stride. "I am surprised my brother has told you. It is something he refuses to talk about, but yes, there was a fire many years ago. However, my father always had this place. I was never so lucky as to set foot here before his passing."

The pain in her voice caused Emmaline"s sisterly nature to set in. She leaned forward and gripped the woman"s forearm. "Please, forgive my mentioning it."

Lorraine cleared her throat and Emmaline thought it sounded wet with grief.

"My father was a cruel and unforgiving man. He all but refused to look at me when he visited our country estate where he kept me hidden away. I suppose he never forgave me for my mother"s death."

"Your mother"s death?" Jane squeaked, listening on the edge of her seat opposite them. Emmaline shot her a warning look, but Jane seemed unaffected as she asked, "How could you be to blame for such a thing?"

"My mother died birthing me," Lorraine said, looking at Jane. Emmaline was most grateful for it as her shock was immeasurable.

In only a few sentences she had unlocked insurmountable trauma that explained so much of her husband"s behavior.

"Unlike my brother, I was no heir. He had no need of me," Lorraine said, her tone growing more and more bitter. "He needed only Alex to groom into that twisted monster who sits upon his grotesque throne."

Emmaline"s heart stopped. The bitterness and grief in her sister-in-law"s voice was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

"I lost my own mother," Emmaline said, hoping to ease the woman"s pain, squeezing her arm gently.

Lorraine looked to her with a sad half-smile and said, "Then you know something of my loneliness. Though I am pleased you at least had a sister to share your grief."

"Stepsister," Jane corrected, and Emmaline shot her another warning look.

Only it seemed to open Lorraine up a little more. "Then I suspect you both know a little something of my grief."

Both the Moreau sisters nodded and for a few moments, they shared in silent grief before Lorraine added, "The only good thing my father ever did for me was ensure my brother never truly turned out like him."

Stunned by the emotion in her voice, Emmaline leaned back. "How so?"

Lorraine turned a gaze sparkling with tears upon her and said, "The club is a heinous abomination and I wish it burned to the ground, but it did allow my brother the opportunity to keep me safe in France. He, after all, practically raised me in my father"s stead, and with my father"s gruesome business, it was no surprise I have often been a… shall we say target."

Again, Emmaline thought of the children at the orphanage. More than that, she thought of what Lorraine might mean by target. In truth, Alex had made her feel so safe she had never even considered such things. But now, she did, and she couldn"t help but wonder. Am I a target now?

Too stunned by the seriousness of the conversation, Emmaline had no idea what to say. When she glanced at Jane, it appeared she too had lost her voice.

She looked again to Lorraine when the young woman laid a hand over hers and squeezed. "My brother is an honorable, noble and good man. I am pleased he has at least found some comfort in you, Your Grace. He has written wonderful things of you. So much so I feel as if I already know you."

Emmaline smiled, wishing that she could say the same of her.

Instead, she laid her own free hand on top of Lorraine"s and said, "Well, now that you are here, we can get to know each other properly, I am sure."

The two newly acquainted sisters stared into each other"s eyes until a commotion at the front door down the hall caused them both to pull away from each other.

"Where is she?" Alex's voice boomed down the hall.

It appeared not a single servant had time to answer before he came bursting through the drawing room door.

Still trembling from the conversation they had just shared, and fearful of Alex"s anger, Emmaline struggled to her feet to greet him. Perhaps she might be able to calm him before he scolded his sister for dropping by on such a visit.

But before she could do so, Lorraine rose to her own feet, and the two siblings embraced with such ferocity that it took Emmaline"s breath away.

Alex lifted Lorraine off her feet and spun her around, dropping her back in the same spot she had stood in before he exclaimed, "Lorraine, why did you not tell me of your visit?"

And as his happiness at seeing his sister became much more apparent, Emmaline realized she did not know her husband as well as she had believed.