Chapter Sixteen

S tartled, Emmie jumped away from Broderick. He swung around in the direction of the other man's voice, keeping his dignity—which was something she couldn't do. A man, dressed as if he had come from the party, stood not far behind them, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Even his face had lost color.

Embarrassment washed over her and scorched her cheeks. She wanted to dig a hole and crawl inside, or at least pull the hat over her face so that nobody could see her discomfort. Unfortunately, the hat wasn't large enough to cover her whole head.

Broderick chuckled, shaking his head. "No, Phillip. You have it all wrong." He glanced back at Emmie and took her hand to bring her forward. "My good friend, look closer." Broderick removed her hat and lifted her chin toward the sliver of moonlight pouring between the branches of the tree. "These delicate features don't belong to a boy, but a woman."

Phillip gasped again and stepped closer, his eyes now narrowed in scrutiny. "Indeed, she is a woman." He laughed. "Oh, thank the good Lord, Broderick. You had me worried there for a moment."

"Phillip, this is my friend, Miss Emiline Snow. Emmie, this is my friend, Phillip Daughtery—someone I, um, I have not seen for a while."

Emmie curtsied as well as she could wearing men's breeches, and Phillip bowed like a true gentleman.

"It's a pleasure to meet one of Broderick's, uh… friends," he said.

Another blush spread over her face. Was this man hinting that Broderick had more than one friend like her? "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"So, Phillip, what are you doing here?" Broderick asked.

"I am friends with Mr. Goodfellow."

"What a coincidence. So is my uncle." Broderick chuckled. "But how did you know I would be out here?"

"I spoke to your uncle inside, and he hinted at your whereabouts."

Broderick's jaw tightened and he lost his smile. "Did anyone else hear him?"

"No, just me."

Broderick nodded and then looked down at Emmie. "I need to speak to Phillip for a few minutes in private. Will you be all right while I'm gone?"

She hiccupped a laugh. "Of course. I plan to continue watching the party through the hedges."

"Splendid. I shall return momentarily."

And I shall count the moments until your return so I can be back in your arms. She sighed. "All right."

Once Broderick and Phillip walked out of her sight, she turned back to the hedges. Making a space between the small branches, she peeked through. People still clustered together inside one of the rooms sipping their drinks. Apparently, dinner hadn't started yet. A few new people had joined the group, but the women had their backs to Emmie, and she couldn't tell if any were her mother or not.

Softly, she growled. If only she was closer, then maybe she could see more clearly.

Hastily, she surveyed the yard and spotted a large tree near the window. Her heart lifted. If she could climb the tree, she would be able to get a better look at the guests inside.

Without another thought, she sprinted across the yard, ducking behind bushes and keeping within the shadows for fear someone would see her. Within minutes, she scaled the tree as fast as her legs would push her. Although she hadn't done this for a few years, she had climbed so many trees in her life that this one was easy. She tried not to rustle any leaves or break any branches, but unfortunately, that was impossible. Soon she found a branch that could hold her weight and perched herself on it. Just as she'd expected, looking inside the window was now much easier.

Right away she noticed Mr. and Mrs. Crampton visiting with a couple of ladies, but the women had their back toward Emmie, so she couldn't see their faces. She studied each one, but none resembled the memories she had of her mother, or even the miniature Georgia had shown her.

From below came the thudding of footsteps mere seconds before someone called out, "Pardon me—you, up in the tree."

Fear sliced through her, and she froze. Closing her eyes, she wished the man would go away.

"I know you are up there, so you might as well answer me."

She sighed heavily in defeat. "I can hear you."

"Splendid. Now, will you come down and talk to me like a civilized person instead of thinking you are a monkey?"

She would have cried if she wasn't so upset. How dare this person refer to her as a monkey? And why had she been discovered so early in the evening before she could see her mother?

Slowly, she made her way down the tree until she could jump to the ground, landing right in front of the young man.

He was probably a few years younger than herself and swept his gaze over her length as his top lip curled in disdain. He rubbed his chin, which held a small patch of facial hair. Although she suspected he was slightly younger, he was a couple of inches taller and had wide shoulders. His hair was as brown as hers, and she couldn't tell his eye color because he was standing in the shadows.

"Who are you and why are you spying on this party?" he inquired. "You obviously don't belong here."

"I'm actually the footman for somebody who is attending this function," she answered softly.

His eyes widened. "Oh, the Peeping Tom is actually a Peeping Miss instead."

"Yes, I'm a woman." She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin in defiance.

"Pray tell, why would anyone want their footman to be a girl?"

"If you must know, I'm actually in disguise. I'm here looking for the mother I thought died fifteen years ago. Just recently I discovered she is still alive. I also think she might be at this party."

He rolled his eyes. "That story is utterly ridiculous. Can you not come up with something better? Tell me, what is your name so that I can report you to Mr. Goodfellow?"

"Sir, my name is none of your business," she snapped, having had quite enough of his rudeness.

"If you will not give me your name, then give me the name of the person you are here with."

She couldn't possibly tell him. Mr. Crampton didn't need to know what she was doing, especially since he knew her mother. "Once again, that information is none of your business."

Glaring at her, he reached out and grasped her wrist. "Well, if you are not going to tell me what I want to know, then perhaps you will tell our host."

She panicked and tried to yank her arm away, but she could not prevail. "Unhand me this instant!"

"Not until you tell me your name or the name of your employer."

"She is with me."

Relief spread over her at Broderick's deep voice. She wanted to sigh aloud but didn't dare. Not until after this rude man had left.

Broderick stepped from the shadows and into the light. A small gasp escaped her throat—not from seeing him, but because of what he wore. Instead of wearing the hat and coat of the Cramptons' driver, Broderick wore a more elegant jacket and a different waistcoat, giving the appearance that he was attending the party. Where could he have possibly gotten those clothes so quickly? Unless… Wasn't his friend Mr. Daughtery wearing that color of coat?

The young man arched a haughty eyebrow at Broderick and released Emmie.

"And who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Broderick Worthington, Marquess of Wilshire."

Emmie nearly swallowed her tongue. Why was he using the title his aunt had mentioned he didn't want? Her heartbeat quickened. Perhaps this meant Broderick was now seriously considering the title.

The other man snickered. "A marquess? Do you think I will believe that rubbish?"

"I'm visiting my aunt and uncle—Mr. and Mrs. Crampton." Broderick stepped closer. "And this woman is with me and my relatives."

"But why—"

"It does not matter why ." Broderick folded his arms and aimed his glare at the younger man. "Now why don't you go back into the party instead of sticking your nose into everyone's business?"

The other man's mouth opened and closed a few times before he nodded. "As you wish, my lord," he snapped before marching into the house.

"Oh, Broderick," she sighed as she walked into his arms. "You arrived just in time."

He slid his hands up and down her back. "Let us leave before others come outside and start asking questions." Nodding, she took hold of his hand as he led them back to the carriage. "Do you want to tell me how you got so close to the house when you told me you were going to stand behind the hedges?"

She looked up at him and grinned. "Do you want to tell me why you are using a marquess's name and where you got that overcoat and waistcoat?"

He chuckled. "Fine, we shall play it your way for now and hide behind our secrets." Once they were on top of the carriage, Broderick grabbed the reins and got the vehicle into motion.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you back home before anyone else sees you."

She frowned. "But what about your aunt and uncle?"

"I shall return for them later."

"What about finding my mother?"

"My friend, Phillip, told me he knows where Mrs. Estelle Winterbourne lives. We can call upon her tomorrow."

Excitement rushed through Emiline, as did a mixture of emotions—happiness for the time she would see her mother again, yet worry for when she would have to confess the truth to Broderick. "Oh, Broderick." She clutched his arm and pressed her cheek against it. "You are so wonderful."

"I promised I would help you, and I will not stop until I have you standing in front of her." He kissed the top of her head.

"Indeed, you are an extraordinary man."

*

Broderick clutched the reins tightly, mainly so he wouldn't be tempted to take Emiline into his arms. Her mother was only a day away from seeing her daughter again, and Broderick was a step closer to never again seeing the woman who'd touched his heart so deeply. Once Emmie and her mother reunited, she would be out of his life. Forever.

He wasn't prepared for the emptiness that consumed him at the mere thought. He didn't want to let her go, but he knew he must. No other woman would be able to fill that void in his heart once she was gone.

Not another word was spoken until he drove back to the inn and stopped the carriage. He helped her down, and they slowly walked upstairs toward their rooms. His room was closer than the one she shared with Lady Sarah, so before he could change his mind, he grabbed Emiline's hand and pulled her inside his room, shut the door, and turned on the lamp.

"Broderick? What—"

"Shh…" He gathered her in his arms. "I just wanted to hold you before returning you to Lady Sarah."

She wrapped her arms around his waist as she tilted her head to look at him. A soft smile graced her stunning face, her brown eyes sparkling with tenderness.

"Although I want nothing more than to stay in your arms, don't you have to go back to Mr. Goodfellow's party to get your family?"

"In a little while. My aunt and uncle will be there another hour at least." He removed her hat and stroked her silky hair that had been pulled tight in a bun. "For now, all I want to do is hold you."

"But why?"

"Because our time is limited." He carefully pulled out the pins holding her coil together, and her long hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back.

"It is?"

He nodded. "Soon you will be reunited with your mother, and you will want to be with her. You and Lady Sarah will return to Devonshire, and… and I will never see you again."

"Never say never." She frowned.

"But it's true. You will soon forget about me, and eventually, I will forget about you." He cupped her face with both hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "But the way I'm feeling right now, I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget you." He bent his head and captured her lips.

Sighing, she leaned into him. The kiss was tender and thrilled him beyond anything he had ever experienced. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might break some bones in his chest. Yet the longer he kissed her, the more his heart ached with sadness.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and trailed his lips over her cheek. "Oh, Emiline, I don't think I'll be able to let you go. The mere thought of your leaving me is tearing my insides apart, and I cannot stand the pain." He moved his lips up to her eyes and brushed them across her closed lids. "Emiline, my love, I want you in a way I have wanted no other woman. You have somehow crept into my heart, and I cannot seem to get you out."

Her breathing had grown fast and heavy, as had his.

"Broderick? Why do you want to get me out of your heart?"

"Because this is wrong. We are wrong for each other."

"No, Broderick. We are alike in so many ways."

"No… no… You are all wrong for me. These feelings I have for you may just well destroy both of us."

She pulled away just enough for him to stare down into her smiling eyes. "What would you say if I told you I hold the same confused feelings?"

He drew his thumb across her bottom lip, wanting to kiss her again so badly. "I would say we were both in serious trouble, then."

"I don't mind it in the least. As long as we can be in serious trouble together."

Groaning, he pulled her in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around her to hold her as he devoured her mouth. Kissing her was heavenly, yet he knew he would be in hell if he enjoyed it any further. No matter how much he didn't want to be away from her, being with her was impossible. Indeed, his way of life and the way she was raised could never work.

Hesitantly, he broke the kiss and stepped away. Her lips were swollen due to his ardent kisses, yet her eyes were laced with desire. As much as he should remain strong, she would always be able to bring him to his knees.

"Come. Let's return you to Lady Sarah. I need to get back to the party." He pulled at the overcoat and waistcoat. "And I need to return these clothes to Phillip."

"No, Broderick." She grasped his hand, keeping him from going anywhere. "If you think this might be our last time together, then… let's make it memorable." Her beautiful eyes watered and her lips quivered. "I want you in my heart forever."

Helpless to stop the emotions inside of him, he gathered her in his arms again, bringing his mouth over hers. She clung to him, trying to pull him closer. The rogue inside of him desperately wanted Emiline. Now. Yet the gentlemen he knew he should be reminded him that she was too special to use. However, he didn't believe he was using her for his own satisfaction. After all, the feelings in his heart told him that this was, indeed, love.

Tonight, he would make this memorable for them both.