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.