Chapter 2

David was surrounded by several laughing ladies and gentlemen, and far more babies than he'd anticipated would be at a small garden party at Nicholas Fairbanks's impressive country manor in Chatham. Though David was peering down into the adorable face of one of the Duke of Ravenswood's twin baby girls, David was acutely aware that Miss Emma Fairbanks stared at him, a beautiful blush on her face. She tried to be circumspect as she stood in discussion with one of her sisters, but it seemed as if she could not help herself. David damn well understood, for she commanded every sense within his body in a similar fashion. He had been correct in guessing which of the triplets had stumbled upon his rendezvous with the lovely Lady Susanna Matthews, the widowed baroness who had been his infrequent lover for the last few months.

When he'd glanced up and saw the lady watching, his damned heart had nearly ripped itself from his chest. That had been his first warning of which Fairbanks it was that watched him with those wide, shocked eyes. For his heart had only ever moved for Emma Fairbanks. The why of it some fool would call love or the beginning of some tendre. Since seeing her and having the reaction for the first time more than a year ago, David merely thought of it as a rather boring anomaly and certainly tried to give it no further thought or attention. Excusing himself from those gathered around to adore the babies, he went under the shade of a large oak.

"Some rumors are going about that you'll be making an offer for Lady Matthews," his friend, Nicholas Fairbanks, drawled coming over to him, his blue eyes twinkling with good humor and curiosity. "Never thought I'd live to see you taking the plunge into matrimony."

David took a sip of the iced lemonade, hiding his derisive smirk in the glass. "They are merely rumors, and enough to let me know it is time to end our…"

He was not sure how to define their infrequent bouts of coupling. They certainly had no relationship where they lingered in bed after a tupping to laugh and chat before slumbering in each other's arms. They used each other, and he was quite contented with that arrangement, and so was the lady. David frowned, wondering how he had not sensed that Susanna might have wanted more. Her husband had been gone for five years, and the lady had not seemed to want a permanent attachment. For that reason, he had taken her as his lover when she had boldly flirted with him last season. There was simply no pressure or expectations for more. The fact that there were rumors suggested she had mentioned their attachment to someone, for David was very discreet.

The memory of their quick, frantic tupping in Hyde Park rose in his thoughts. Not very discreet of him that time, certainly not after…

His heart lurched again, rattling inside his chest like a thing not a part of his body. A quick scan revealed that Emma Fairbanks was now standing next to her sister-in-law, smiling down at her nephew, who gurgled and kicked his legs.

"You have the most remarkable penchant for staring at my sister at odd moments," Nicholas said coolly, a warning in his tone and stare.

David allowed his mouth to curve in a lazy, unconcerned smile. "I merely admire her beauty. I do not covet her." Only at odd times in my dreams do I kiss her…

Nicholas snorted, overprotective suspicion darkening his eyes. "Emma is not the sort to blush. She can be a right little hellion, but by God, she has blushed at least a dozen damn times since the start of the picnic. And every time it is when you are near to her. What the hell is happening, Barlow? Why are you both trading those looks?"

Annoyance darted through him. "Her reaction is her own. Damn well question her about it yourself."

Nicholas growled low in his throat, and David chuckled. "She saw me a few days ago at Hyde Park in a secluded area, my lover seated on my cock. I can only imagine that Miss Emma recalls it whenever I am close. I am certain she had not anticipated that you would invite me to this family gathering or she would have possibly tried to plan what her reaction might be."

Nicholas choked on his drink. "I beg your pardon?"

David's smile felt cold. "You heard me, Fairbanks. Surely you do not wish for more explicit details?"

Nicholas scrubbed a hand over his face, a rueful twist to his mouth. "What the hell was she doing at Hyde Park in the damn night?"

"It was closer to dawn."

A black scowl set on his face. "Does that distinction matter?"

"Do you truly mean to ask me to explain why one of the supposed ‘bad Fairbanks' was out of her bed and roaming alone, hmm? Am I to inform you of what your sister is feeling and thinking?"

Nicholas sighed before walking away and muttered, "Ensure you stay away from my sister, Barlow."

As if he needed any warning regarding certain ladies of quality. In David's experience, ladies like Miss Emma Fairbanks's days were filled with thoughts of love and romantic claptrap. Marriage seemed to be the desired dream because that state was touted by many of the ton as being a magical thing. In his very limited experience with the damn thing, supposed love was selfish and indifferent. Some like his damn foolish friend who now ambled over to his wife, kissing her mouth without any shame or regard that they were in the presence of more than twenty guests. Even though, to be fair, those guests were all family and close friends. Still, the pretentious decorum that seemed stamped on most people in society was missing here, which was one reason he liked the Fairbanks family. They felt real and vibrant, and David felt less cold whenever he was in their presence. He scoffed at his nonsensical whimsy and tightened his fingers on his glass.

Lady Cressida's face glowed with whatever emotion had her peering up at Nicholas with such sweet tenderness, and with another scoff at their silliness, David turned away. It was time for him to retreat back to town. The ride back to London was only an hour from his friend's estate in Chatham, and the brisk exercise would clear his head.

He rounded a corner on the pathway and crashed into a soft body. The figure stumbled, and he snagged her around the waist, righting her so she did not crumble to the ground. The gasp whispered through him like an arrow pierced with warmth and desire. Sensations rippled over his skin, and he knew it to be Miss Emma Fairbanks. His clasp was intimate…he could feel the curves of her body against his and smell the fresh scent of honeysuckle. David glanced down when delicate nails sank into his arm, and he swore he felt the lurch of her heartbeat through their clothes against his chest.

Have I ever been this close to you, he silently wondered as their gazes clashed and held.

"My lord?"

"I was not looking where I walked," he murmured roughly, viscerally aware he still held her flush against his body.

Something not quite readable flashed through her eyes, and her throat worked on a swallow. The fingers clenched on his arms went a little deeper, and the pulse at the soft of her throat fluttered wildly. He wanted to take her mouth with a hunger that whipped through him like a damn storm. He wanted to kiss those lips until they glistened red and sweet and bruised.

"Hell," he hissed beneath his breath, shocked to feel his cock stirring to life with want.

Her gaze widened and a becoming blush lit along her cheekbones. David swallowed and jerked his hand from around her waist, stepping back to preserve some modesty. Somehow, she had gleaned his uncensored desire. She blinked, her eyes hazy with desire and shattering awareness.

"Good day, Miss Fairbanks," he clipped, side-stepping and walking around her only to slam into a servant carrying a tray filled with glasses of lemonade.

Bloody hell!

He was not the sort of man to be so distracted he was damn well tripping over ladies. The glasses shattered at their feet. The maid gasped, stooping, and thoughtlessly reaching for the mess. She recoiled, crying out as blood gushed from her palm.

"Be careful," he said gruffly, reaching for her hand and into his pocket for his handkerchief.

The girl, who could be no more than eighteen, flushed, and her eyes widened. She jerked to her feet and, in her haste, stumbled. David caught her and swung her into his arms, so she did not fall into the mess of broken glass and hurt herself further.

The young servant looked fit to faint. "Milord! I…"

"Good heavens! Her hand is bleeding quite heavily," Miss Fairbanks gasped behind him.

David swallowed tightly when she came into view, a worried frown on her face.

"Oh, Mary, I am so sorry! Come with me, Lord Barlow. We must tend to this right away," she said, hurrying forward.

Mary blanched, and her eyes welled with tears when she saw the blood-soaked handkerchief. He was rather impressed she'd not descended into hysterics. Holding her carefully in his arms, David followed Miss Fairbanks into the manor, their steps clipped on the parquet floor as they hastened to the drawing room. She ordered the local physician to be summoned, for footmen to attend to the mess outside immediately, and called for warm water, a washcloth, and rags.

"Oh, Miss Emma," a portly lady who appeared to be the housekeeper cried. "It's a ghastly cut, it is! Should I summon Mrs. Fairbanks?"

"Do not disturb my brother or Lady Cressida," she said firmly. "They are having a lovely time with their son, and I am perfectly capable of tending to this matter. Pray do not be alarmed, Mrs. Bell. The physician has been summoned, and he should be here soon. The cut is rather deep, and I might do prettier stitches, but I think our dear Mary might need something for the pain before any suturing is done."

Mary paled even further, and Miss Fairbanks smiled at her reassuringly while she gently tended to her as best as possible. "You are very brave, Mary; most would have swooned."

"The fault is mine," David said. "I was distracted and did not react in time to the collision."

Mary's brown eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed. "No, milord!" Her mobcap trembled at the vigor with which she shook her head. "The fault was mine, Sir. I—"

"Hush, Mary," Miss Fairbanks said, squeezing the warm water over her hand. "No one is at fault. It was merely an accident, and I am terribly sorry you were hurt."

The maid worried her bottom lip, her gaze glistening with tears. "I am worried, Miss Emma. I cannot be off from work, as me mother and sister are depending—"

Miss Fairbanks shook her head. "You'll take the time to recover well. I am certain you will need stitches, Mary, and the hand must stay away from water and dirt to avoid infection."

David stepped closer. "I will pay you a fair compensation of five hundred pounds for your injuries. I'll have my man of affairs see to it as soon as I return to town."

Miss Fairbanks snapped her gaze to his face, and Mary's eyes widened in comical shock. The housekeeper stared at him as if he were a mythical creature. David bowed and removed himself from the room, feeling inexplicably unnerved. And it was not the sight of blood or anything but the closeness of Emma Fairbanks. He went outside and called for his horse to be saddled and brought around. He would convey his regrets to Nicholas another time, but he would not be able to stay for a few days as promised. David would likely do something foolish, like take Miss Emma somewhere secluded and kiss her until she was wet and desperate enough for him to ravish her.

She looked too sweet, refreshing, and so damn lovely and tempting his teeth ached. He cursed under his breath, vaulted himself into the saddle and was about to ride away when Miss Fairbanks rushed from the manor, her steps faltering when she saw him.

"You are leaving, Lord Barlow?"

"It was my intention, Miss Fairbanks. I have business in town."

"Without a farewell to everyone?"

He lifted a brow. "Everyone is busy playing blind man bluff and admiring little Oscar. I am certain none will give it a moment's consideration that I have departed. It was already a privilege to be invited to this family gathering."

A kindness his friend Nicholas did, for he knew David to be alone. No parents or siblings to call his own or any extended family. That old emptiness loomed, and he shoved it forcefully down inside, to a place where it could not disturb him.

They stared at each other, and he wondered if it had always been this awkward between them, and he'd simply not noticed it before. Or had everything changed when they collided earlier?

Her eyes were curious when she said, "Mary is still swooning from your generosity. You offered her a fortune. At least five years' wages, my lord."

"It is nothing," he said dismissively, tightening his hand on the reins. David did not like the warm admiration in her eyes. It twisted him up inside, and he disliked that even more. "The fault was mine."

"Because you were distracted," she said softly, gripping the edges of her gown.

Something in her tone urged him to stare at her more intensely than was proper. How unspeakably lovely she looked, garbed in a rose-colored gown that flattered her lush curves and made him react to her mouth-watering carnality. Her upswept hair revealed the graceful lines of her swan-like throat, and those cobalt blue eyes peered at him as if she was trying to unveil his damn soul.

"I should apologize for intruding upon your private moment in the park," she said abruptly. "It was an accident and not a deliberate intrusion."

David tipped his head in a slight bow. "No apology needed. Good day, Miss Fairbanks." He nudged his horse into a canter, only to tug the reins and turn his faithful stallion around before he thought better of it. "Why were you there at that hour? Alone and unprotected?"

Her eyes widened. "I had my dagger."

"Do you know how to wield it?"

"Yes."

"Why were you there?"

She stared at him as if she thought his questions were so unusual. "When I cannot sleep…I find the need to ride."

"Why are you unable to sleep?"

"I…" she tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, a frown touching her forehead. "I cannot explain it, my lord."

David stared at her, seeing the flash of loneliness in her eyes. What was there to be lonely about surrounded by her large, boisterous family who seemed as if they loved and laughed fiercely and joyously? He was intimately acquainted with being alone, having lost his parents when he was only ten years old. His father had died of a fever and his mother who claimed she loved him with her entire soul grieved his death and followed within weeks, uncaring she left a child alone in the cold world. His aunt, who had done her best to raise him, died only a few years later, and since then…loneliness had been his constant companion. It echoed inside of him again, and he mentally brushed it aside. One did not need others to live well. His life had taught him that, and it was a lesson he now appreciated. It was singularly foolish to allow others to be the source of one's happiness.

Still, for some inexplicable reason, he did not like that she endured that feeling of emptiness. David frowned, tipped his hat in her direction, wheeled around, and rode away from things that should not concern him, especially regarding Miss Emma Fairbanks.