Chapter Thirteen

A fter breakfast, Emmie hurried back to their room to clean up, but when she entered, the bed had been made and the room looked as if she and Broderick had not stayed here at all. The only evidence that she had stayed the night was that her riding habit was folded up neatly on the end of the bed. Broderick couldn't have possibly done this. Perhaps it was Amy.

Emmie picked up her clothes then returned downstairs to thank her grandmother.

As she passed a front window, a movement caught her eye. Broderick stood in front of the stable getting their horses ready. She smiled, loving the way he looked. So handsome and refined. So strong. And the sweetest man she had ever met. If they had been introduced under different circumstances, would she have liked him at all?

Dishes clacked together in the kitchen, pulling her out of such heavenly thoughts. She stepped inside the room to tell her grandmother goodbye. As she suspected, Georgia had packed a lunch for their ride home.

"Georgia?"

Her grandmother turned and smiled brightly. "Are you ready to depart, dear?"

Emmie nodded. "As much as we would love to stay and visit more with you, we both have obligations back home."

Georgia folded a cloth over the picnic basket and handed it to her. "I packed you a light lunch. I hope you don't mind."

Emmie grasped the handle of the basket. "You really should not have done this, Georgia. You have helped us so much already."

"I know, but I would not feel right if I let you two leave for your long trip home without any food." She walked closer and softly touched Emmie's cheek. Tears gathered in her eyes. "Besides, it's the least I can do for my own granddaughter."

A gasp sprang from Emmie's mouth, and her own eyes filled with tears. "How… how did you know?"

"Two reasons, actually. One, because you look too much like my family to not be related, and two, that handsome man of yours let it slip that Lady Sarah and her companion, Emiline, were staying at his uncle's house for a while. Do you not think I would remember my own granddaughter?" She paused for just a second. "From the way I understand it, Broderick thinks Lady Sarah and Emiline are two different people. He doesn't know you are the earl's daughter. Am I correct?"

Emmie grasped her grandmother's hand, panic flowing through her. "No, he doesn't, and I want to keep him from knowing my true identity for now. It's for my own safety. Please say nothing to him."

Georgia tilted her head. "Tell me something, Emiline. Is Broderick your husband?"

Shame swept over Emmie, and she hung her head. "No." Slowly she lifted her eyes and met her grandmother's stare. "But let me assure you that nothing happened between us last night. If I hadn't been in the downpour last night and chilled to the bone, I would have thought things out more clearly and asked for two separate rooms." She sighed heavily. "I allowed Broderick to make the decision for me, which was wrong, I know." She paused, then asked warily, "Do you believe me?"

"I believe you, only because God works in mysterious ways, and He led you to me last night. So who am I to pass judgment?"

"Georgia—"

"My dear child, please call me Grandmama. I would appreciate it very much."

Emmie smiled. "All right, Grandmama. The reason I don't want him knowing about my identity is because Father wanted me to switch roles for my own protection. Although I want to tell Broderick, I just don't dare. Not yet, anyway."

Georgia caressed Emmie's cheek again. "I understand, but really soon Broderick is going to realize you aren't who you have pretended to be." She glanced out the window into the yard. "He has strong feelings for you, I can tell."

Emmie's heart fluttered. "Well, for now, I want him thinking of me as just Lady Sarah's companion."

Georgia nodded. "All right. I shall not say a word."

Emmie threw her arms around her grandmother and gave her a big hug. "Do you know how much I missed having a grandmother when I was growing up?" Her voice broke with emotion as tears fell freely down her face.

Georgia held her tightly. "And I have missed my granddaughter." She pulled away and looked into Emmie's eyes. "Your mother missed you terribly, too. It broke her heart when she thought the two people she loved the most were dead."

A lump formed in Emmie's throat, and all she wanted to do was bawl her eyes out—to cry for not having a mother all of those years. "Grandmama? What happened? Father and I were told her ship was the one attacked by pirates."

Sadness crossed Georgia's face. "I wish I knew, dear. Daphne didn't talk much about it. You will have to find out the whole story from her."

"Do you think I should find her?"

"Oh yes, my dear. She will be overjoyed when she sees you. She hasn't been the same since your death—or what she thought was your death." She paused again, but only for a moment. "Does your father still love Daphne?"

"Oh, indeed. I still catch him staring at her picture. If we had known Mother was alive, Father would have moved heaven and earth to find her." Emmie kissed the older woman's cheek and pulled away. "I will find her, and thank you, Grandmama, for everything."

"Good luck with that handsome man of yours."

Emmie smiled. "I will definitely need it."

*

Broderick hooked both horses to the buggy he'd purchased from Georgia. At first, she just offered it for his travels today, telling him she never used the vehicle, but he couldn't go without giving her some kind of payment. Finally, he convinced her to take his money.

Emiline walked toward him carrying a basket, and his heart leapt. She now wore a cloak that matched her gown, with a white scarf over her hair, which, thankfully, didn't hide much at all. Curses! How would he be able to handle being so close to her without wanting to take her in his arms and smother her with kisses? Her lips were sweet like honeysuckle, and her skin soft as a rose petal. Strange how in one day she'd turned from being a friend he took pleasure in teasing to a woman he wanted so much to pour his affections on.

She stood next to him, and he smiled. "I bought this buggy from Georgia. I hope you don't mind if we take this instead." He glanced at her gown again. "I thought this method of transportation would be easier because you are dressed as a princess."

Her eyes twinkled. "You are too kind. I would very much enjoy riding in a buggy."

He bowed then offered his hand. She slipped her fingers against his palm, and once again, desire burned inside him. As he helped her into the vehicle, he fought the impulse to pull her against him.

He climbed on the seat, took the reins, and urged the horses into a trot. Immediately, he could tell the journey home would be horrendous. Emiline kept bumping into him, making him more and more aware of her. Not that he wasn't already. How could he forget after what happened last night and this morning?

A few minutes of silence passed very slowly before she turned to him and cleared her throat. "Broderick, I would like to thank you for what you did."

Confusion filled him, and he looked into her innocent, wide eyes. "Which was?"

"You accidentally—on purpose—let it slip about Lady Sarah and her companion visiting the Cramptons. You knew Georgia would figure it out soon enough."

He smiled. "Did Georgia say something to you?"

"She did, and we talked." She softly laid her hand on his arm. "I don't think I could have mentioned it to her, but because of your help, I was able to open up."

He moved his attention back to the road. "I suspected you were scared to say anything, so I thought to help you in some way. I'm relieved you are not upset with me for sticking my nose into your business."

She squeezed his arm. "No, I'm not upset. I'm very grateful for your help. This whole mess has left me so confused that I don't know what I would do without you."

"I cannot fathom how you must feel right now, learning that your mother has been alive all this time." He snuck another glance at her. "How exactly did she die?"

"We were living in France at the time, and she was sailing to England, and her ship was attacked by pirates." She shrugged. "At least, that is the information we received."

Curiosity niggled his mind. "Pirates, you say? And she was on a passenger ship?"

"Yes."

"Most pirates that I have heard about do not attack passenger ships. They are only after treasure of some kind."

"I heard the same thing, but when we received the letter about my mother's death, it stated her ship was attacked by none other than the fearsome pirate, Captain Hawk."

Broderick swallowed wrong and nearly choked. Yet he didn't want to cause suspicion. "How long ago did this happen?"

"Fifteen years."

Impossible! The title of Captain Hawk was started by his great-uncle, Marcus Thorne, approximately forty-six years ago, and handed down through the family on Broderick's mother's side. He had taken the title not even a year ago.

"Forgive me, love, but it's hard to believe that her ship was attacked by that pirate, since I heard Captain Hawk's only mission is to stop deceitful men in England. However, I do know that his first voyage was across the sea to the Americas."

"Then why would someone tell us it was Captain Hawk if it wasn't?" She rested her palm on his arm. "Broderick, if you know anything else about this pirate, please tell me."

His breath caught in his throat and his blood froze. "You think I should know something?"

"Well, I did hear a rumor, not long after Lady Sarah and I arrived at the estate, that Mr. Crampton was related to Captain Hawk." She licked her lips. "And if he is related, then surely you must know him as well."

Broderick didn't know what bothered him more—the rumors that someone knew his true identity or that there might be a spy in the family. Although he didn't want to lie to Emiline, nor could he confess the truth. Not yet. "If I'm related to this pirate, this is the first I have heard about it."

A heavy sigh escaped her, and she brought her hand back to her lap. "Then perhaps the rumor was false."

"Perhaps. You know how rumors can get out of hand. The fact that a pirate attacked a passenger ship tells me this rumor is indeed false, since this particular pirate wasn't known to do such things."

"I'm sure you are correct." She sighed again and smiled at him. "I'm most appreciative of your knowledge."

He winked. "Anytime, princess."

She chuckled and shook her head. Once again, his focus turned to the lovely vision beside him. He skimmed his gaze over her enchanting face, resting it on her tempting mouth. His own mouth watered as he remembered the way her lips had tasted when he kissed her.

Shaking himself out of such wicked thoughts, he quickly diverted his eyes to the road. In order to keep her in a pleasant mood—and her thoughts away from Captain Hawk—Broderick must change their conversation.

"You know, Emiline, I get the impression that you are actually enjoying looking so lovely today. Am I correct?"

She laughed lightly. "What I enjoy is the way you look at me. You look at me as if I were a real princess, and that makes me giddy."

He chuckled. "I suppose it's fun to be treated differently, is it not?"

"Indeed. Would you like me to treat you differently, also?"

"Pray tell, how would you treat me?"

She leaned toward him and touched his arm again. "I would treat you like a king."

"A king?" He laughed. "Not if I'm treating you like a princess. That would mean you would be my daughter." He scrunched his face, making her laugh. "Why not treat me like I'm a… marquess?"

She shrugged. "That will work, I suppose. You are truly a gentleman."

"Such kind words, princess."

"You know, I have changed my mind. You are more like a king, and you can treat me like a queen instead of a princess."

"If I do that, then instead of being a daughter, you would be…" Laughter quickly disappeared when he realized where his thoughts were leading. He swallowed hard and stared deeply into her eyes. "My wife," he ended softly.

She, too, became serious. Her body remained so close to his, and the heat between them grew more powerful by the second. Why did he like the idea of her becoming his wife? Although she was a mere lady's companion, Emiline came from a fine family—apparent by the wonderful and kind grandmother they had met. Besides that, she could pass for a real lady, as she was today.

He continued to stare, not caring that the horses had stopped. He couldn't look away. Her eyes were so illuminated with desire that he was mesmerized. His heart pounded a quick rhythm, and he loved the way happiness flowed through his blood.

He shouldn't have made that bet with her yesterday. If she had remained in those ugly, plain dresses, perhaps he wouldn't feel as dumbfounded right now. Then again, she took his breath away no matter what she wore.

He dropped his gaze to her mouth. She ran her tongue across her sultry, wine-colored lips, and he wanted nothing more than to taste the sweetness he had found this morning.

"Broderick?" she whispered.

"What?"

"We have stopped."

It took all of his effort, but he snapped out of his dreamlike state of confusion. "I suppose we have."

He still didn't move as they stared at each other. Soon, her smile lifted. "We aren't going anywhere yet."

"No, not yet. I must do something first." He cupped her face, pulled her in, and captured her mouth.

A sigh gurgled from deep in her throat as she leaned against him, opening up for his torrid kiss. He moved his hand down her neck to the tie holding her cloak together. In one quick motion, he opened her cloak and moved his hand over her shoulder and lower, brushing the tips of his fingers over the edge of her bodice.

If only they weren't in the buggy…

Catching her breath, she withdrew, folding her arms across her chest. Slowly, she shook her head. "No, Broderick. It's too soon."

He closed his eyes and silently groaned. She was correct. She wasn't that kind of woman, and he didn't want to turn her into that kind, either.

Exhaling deeply, he sat up straighter and looked to the road, flicking the reins to urge the horses to move forward again. Heaviness settled in his chest. He wanted her so much it hurt. Why did his feelings confuse him so?

They didn't talk much more during the ride back, and if they did, nothing personal was brought up. Broderick talked a little about his life, without mentioning his true identity. She talked about growing up without a mother, and with a father who was always too busy with politics to spend much time with his daughter.

They stayed on neutral ground.

Dusk sprinkled across the sky when they arrived at his uncle's house. Instead of taking the buggy around to the stables, as he would have done with the old Emiline, he stopped in front of the house. He jumped down first, then turned and helped her out. He wanted to pull her against him, wrap his arms around her, and never let her go. Once she walked in through that doorway, his fantasy would end.

She stepped away and broke the contact. "Broderick, I had a wonderful two days with you. The best two days of my life, in fact. I thank you so much."

He smiled at her angelic face. "I had a splendid time as well. I'm glad you were able to find your grandmother."

"Thanks to you." She touched his hand, and he quickly grasped her fingers. "Will you still help me find my mother?"

"Yes. I told you I would, and I always keep my promises."

"I thank you again." Slowly, she closed the space between them and lifted on the tips of her toes, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Immediately, Broderick turned his face so her lips would meet with his as he slid his arms around her waist, holding her tight. Heat ignited in his chest, and he didn't want to pull away.

Apparently, she had other thoughts, because she broke the kiss and stepped out of his embrace. Her face darkened with a deep blush.

"Good night, Broderick."

"Good night, my queen."

She smiled. "You know, I don't expect you to carry out the wager for the whole week. It has been enough that you treated me this special for today. I'm quite certain it was difficult enough for you, and because of that, I won't hold you to our wager."

He caressed her cheek with his knuckles as he gazed into her twinkling eyes. "What if I want to continue?"

"Just know you don't have to."

"Are you trying to tell me you do not want to wear pretty dresses any longer?"

"No. I just don't have that many gowns to wear as Lady Sarah's companion. I haven't made it to see a dressmaker yet. But rest assured, it has been rather fun feeling pretty today."

He shook his head. "Emiline, you are not just pretty, you are resplendent. And it wasn't hard for me to treat you as such, especially since you look so very lovely in the gown your grandmother gave you." He raked his gaze over her dress once again, wishing it didn't flatter her womanly figure so. "You were definitely made to wear gowns like this. Not plain dresses only fit for old lady's companions."

The sultry look in her eyes had him spellbound. Her eyes had always made him this way. He liked the way she looked upon him as if he were the most gallant man in the world.

At that moment, the front door swung open, and his uncle and aunt stood on the other side. The passionate mood quickly disappeared.

"You are back," Henry cheered as he stepped outside and gave Emiline a hug. "Oh, child, we thought something horrid had happened to you."

Broderick narrowed his gaze on his uncle. Why was he acting this way toward the companion? From over his uncle's shoulder, Emiline looked at him with confusion in her eyes. Aunt Martha stood behind Henry clasping her hands against her middle, her eyes moist.

Very strange behavior from both of them.

"Uncle? Is something amiss?" Broderick asked.

Henry quickly moved away. "Uh, well… When we returned home earlier, our servants said five men came looking for something we had that they wanted." He shook his head. "It wasn't until Levi heard one of the men say Lady Sarah's name when he realized what they wanted, and when we returned home and saw you were gone…" He paused, looking at Emiline as he laid a hand over his heart. "I thought those men might have taken you."

"Uncle, did the stable boy not tell you she was with me?" Broderick asked. "He was the only one to see us together."

Henry rolled his eyes. "Levi didn't know who was with you, Broderick."

Emiline hung her head, wringing her hands against her middle. "Forgive me, Mr. Crampton. I didn't mean to upset you. We went riding and lost track of time, and—"

"Miss Emmie?" Broderick interrupted her, and she looked up at him. "I shall explain things to my uncle. You hurry upstairs and let Lady Sarah know that you're all right. She is probably worried sick."

Henry nodded. "Oh, yes. She is very distraught."

"Excuse me, then. Good night, gentlemen." She curtsied then entered the house.

Broderick couldn't take his eyes off her as she gracefully floated into the main hall and up the stairs. He took a deep breath, calming himself from the passionate moment they had shared not too long ago. He expected tonight would be miserable until he could see her again. Yet his conscience dictated he couldn't act this way around her. His life was too complicated as it was, and bringing a woman into his world would only bring heartache.

Henry shook his head and chuckled. "The girl certainly looks different wearing that fancy dress. It's almost as if she was supposed to wear that instead of the servant's attire."

Broderick nodded, relieved they shared the same opinion. "I agree, Uncle."

Henry turned to him. "Now, Broderick, would you kindly inform me what is going on? Where were you the past two days, and why did you take that, er… that particular woman with you?"

"Come inside, Uncle. Let us adjourn to your study, where we can discuss this matter in private." Walking into the house, Broderick headed straight to the study, and then to the liquor tray, and poured himself some brandy.

Henry and Martha followed and shut the door behind them. His uncle folded his arms across his chest and glared. "Now will you tell us what's going on between the two of you?"

It was lucky Henry hadn't asked Broderick to explain his feelings for the young woman, because he still had mixed emotions about her. Confusion had been his constant companion for two days, along with pure enjoyment. All he knew was that Emiline entranced him, and the longer they were together, the more his attraction grew.

"Yesterday morning I was about to take a refreshing ride around the countryside when I happened across Miss Emmie doing the same. I suggested we ride together, only because it would keep us both entertained." He paused, sipping his drink. "She had been extremely disappointed because dear Rebecca made it clear that she didn't want Miss Emmie traveling to London with Lady Sarah. Seeing how Miss Emmie was a guest at your house just as Lady Sarah, I can imagine her disappointment." He directed that harsh comment to his aunt.

Martha lowered her head and twisted her hands. "But Broderick, I didn't know at first… but when we did, your uncle told Rebecca to invite her. The night before we were to leave, Miss Emmie came down with a stomach ailment, so we left—"

Henry waved his hand through the air as he looked at his wife. "It doesn't matter now." He aimed his focus on Broderick again. "You should not have been alone with her. I'm sure you are aware that you probably ruined her reputation."

The hilarity of the comment made Broderick laugh. "Reputation as what? A lady's companion? A servant of Lady Sarah's?"

Henry scowled. "Well, just see that it doesn't happen again, and for heaven's sake, let us know if you take her away in the future."

Broderick finished his drink and set the glass down on the liquor tray. Why did his uncle suddenly want to step into the role of his guardian? Broderick didn't need to tell Henry everything he had to do, especially with Emiline. "I promise I will inform you when I deem it necessary, Uncle. Rest assured you shall be the first to know." He turned to walk away, but his uncle grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Broderick? You didn't… um, compromise her, did you?"

Broderick didn't know whether to laugh or get upset. His uncle acted as if Broderick had been with a real lady for two days—and one very magical night. He chose to chuckle instead of being angered. "Are you asking if I seduced her? Did I take her to bed? Ravished her, perhaps?" He laughed harder. "No, Uncle. I was the perfect gentleman." Well, maybe not completely.

Henry shifted his feet as his wife blushed. "Fine." He swiped his fingers through his graying hair. "Now that we got that out of the way, we need to find out who those men were that came while we were gone, and why they want Lady Sarah."

Martha moved next to her husband and touched his arm as her eyes locked with Broderick's. "We think they may return, and next time we may not be as fortunate."