Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

G odric returned to the drawing room, where he found all four of his friends overly interested in their billiards game. They glanced at him, then all looked quickly away, and for a long minute no one said a word.

Charles tossed his cue carelessly on the table, ruining the game as it knocked balls out of place. "Bloody hell, if no one is going to ask, then I will. How was it?"

"How was what?" Godric pretended innocence.

"We all know that you and Emily…" For a man who never failed for words, Charles certainly came up short now. "Well, you know… Oh, for God's sake, we have ears, man!"

Cedric hissed, "Good God, do you want to get us shot?"

Godric wasn't the least bit upset. In fact, he found it rather amusing, the image of his friends scrambling like school boys in the hallway just for a glimpse through a keyhole… How could he not laugh?

"There will be no shooting of anyone, unless any man here dares to try seducing her now. Remember Rule Four. She has chosen me. Is that understood?"

Curt nods followed all around.

"You didn't hurt her?" Ashton asked after a moment, his face a little red.

Cedric mirrored Ashton's concern as he leaned back against the billiard table.

"She is fine now. I was not as gentle as I should have been… But I know how to distract a woman from pain and replace it with pleasure. She was brave, my Emily." He'd only slept with two virgins in his long life of conquests. They'd both cried the whole time and he'd sworn off innocents since then. No man liked to spend the entire night cajoling a woman back into some semblance of acceptance.

But Emily had met him with surprising passion, one that rivaled his own.

Ashton fixed him with a look. "She loves you, Godric. A woman in love can endure more pain and suffering than the strongest man. Their hearts are unique things, sturdy and loyal, but susceptible to one great weakness."

The sudden warmth in Godric's chest surprised him. Emily loved him. He liked knowing that she loved him. He struggled to retain his composure. "And what weakness is that?"

Ashton frowned. "It is easily broken if she is not loved in return. You must find it in your heart to love her, Godric, or you will have done her a great injustice."

Godric sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You may be right, Ash. I've ruined her, at any rate and she deserves to be cared for. We certainly can't return her to her uncle."

Lucien's face darkened. "That would be as good as handing her to Blankenship."

"It is settled, then. At the end of the week I will return to London to tell Parr that Emily is no longer his. Her remaining here with me will be the settlement of his debt to me, and all contact will be severed between us."

"And what about Emily?" Cedric asked.

"I'll keep her here."

"Is that wise?" Lucien asked.

"She'll be bound by her honor. Besides, I doubt she'll try to leave, not after what happened tonight." Godric tried to stop himself, but his lips curved up regardless.

"That good, eh?" Charles chuckled.

Godric shook his head. "As if I'd tell you." What she lacked in experience she made up for with confidence and enthusiasm, and if Ashton was right, love.

He wondered if that emotion, one so elusive in his own heart, had filled the moments with fire and tenderness. He'd lived a life of pleasure, and in that life, love had no part. His lovers enjoyed him as he in turn enjoyed them, but there was nothing more to it than that.

Emily… That had been something else entirely.

"Godric, you will take care next time, won't you?" Ashton said after a minute. "I would hate to see Emily burdened with a babe so young,"

Godric winced. He hadn't even thought about that. Christ! She could be with child now this very minute because he hadn't controlled himself.

"I will take the necessary precautions." There were a few ways, but the best was a French letter, an old favorite of his. He would be prepared next time. Of course, the next month would be a nerve-wracking one as he prayed to God that the first time with Emily didn't result in disaster.

Even as he thought it, he knew a child born from that singular moment of wondrously tender pleasure would be a beautiful one. With his dark hair, and its mother's expressive violet eyes. Her ticklishness. His boldness. What a child that would be. The image of this enchanting nonexistent child shocked him. A child? Eventually he would need an heir.

He needed to clear his thoughts of Emily and that imaginary child. "Shall we start a new game?" The other men joined him at the billiard table.

When Godric finally returned to his bedchamber, he carried a sleeping Penelope under one arm and her basket in the other. He set the basket down near his bedside table and fluffed the blankets for the puppy before setting her down. Penelope licked his hand with a sigh of contentment.

"Good girl." He stroked her sleek head and scratched behind her ears. Her eyes drifted shut and Godric quickly undressed, dropping his clothes in an untidy pile at the foot of the bed, before he slipped under the covers. His body warmed instantly as it came into contact with Emily's.

"Godric…" Emily murmured as she rolled over to face him.

"I'm here, darling." He slid his arms around her waist, tugging her against him. She sighed, rather like Penelope, not really awake. He took advantage and kissed her lips. In the darkness, with their bodies entwined, with no witness but the moonlight, he almost thought himself capable of loving her. Emily almost read his thoughts as he freed her lips and nuzzled her neck.

"I love you," she whispered, speaking to a dark prince in her dreams. She didn't seem to expect a reply.

"I know," he whispered as she fell asleep in his arms. Godric followed her into the land of dreams not long after, into a place surrounded by fields of exquisite butterflies. He could not catch a single one…

Emily woke to a new world.

Her body was languid and loose, flush with a new understanding of herself. No longer did a barrier exist between her and the elusive state of womanhood.

The man who changed everything lay next to her, his skin warm against hers. Before now she'd only ever felt embarrassed and shy about her body, but Godric had seen and tasted every part of her. He too had shared himself. She'd felt the passion in the tenderness of his kiss and the vulnerable glimmer in his eyes.

Emily pulled her hair into a loose coil at the back of her neck as she shifted closer to Godric. His chest rose and fell in a slow pattern of sleep, and she couldn't resist him, as exposed as he was at that moment.

She kissed his chin and trailed her lips down his chest until she reached his left nipple, her mouth teasing it. Godric moaned groggily as his sleeping body responded.

Emily had one leg wedged between his, and his manhood stirred against her thigh.

She sucked harder before moving down over his abdomen.

A hand clasped her head, holding her mouth to his body. He was definitely awake now. "What are you up to, little vixen?"

"I thought I ought to wake you. I desire my good morning kiss."

"Your kiss? My darling, we are far beyond kisses now." His husky tone lit a tingling fire between her legs.

He didn't wait for an invitation but slid her upwards and rolled her beneath him. Catching her mouth in a tender, sinful embrace, his left arm reached for the small drawer on his bedside table.

"What are you doing?" she asked between kisses.

His hand returned to their bodies under the covers. "Don't worry, darling. I'm protecting you, that is all."

The heat of the next kiss stole away all rational thought.

Some time later, she and Godric panted in each other's arms as pleasure flooded their limbs. Godric's body trembled and Emily cradled his head to her breasts, stroking his hair. She couldn't help but admire the deep shades of brown caught by the morning light in his thick mane.

"Why do you tremble?"

"Making love to you…" Godric's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes?" She kissed his dark hair, inhaling his masculine scent.

"I feel like a boy again."

Emily was not sure what to make of this. "Is that…a good thing?"

"It is a wonderful thing, Emily. Every sensation, every kiss… It feels new. I never thought I could feel that way again." Godric raised himself onto his elbows as he lay on her, still deep inside, the connection intense between them. His long lashes fanned out over his cheeks as he shut his eyes. The confession seemed to open him, make him vulnerable. She knew that tortured and hesitant look too well.

"Emily, there is something I would like to discuss with you." He gently withdrew, and sat up close to her.

"What is it?" Suspicion clouded the sunny warmth in her heart.

"Because of this new development—" he waved a hand over the rumpled bed sheets "—returning you to your uncle is out of the question. I won't hear of it. But you must decide what you wish to do now."

Emily sat up, bringing the sheet up to cover herself. "You wish to send me away now?" Grief settled over her like a thick wool blanket, smothering her.

"What?" His brows drew together. "Send you away? Are you mad? I want you to stay here, stay with me. You need never concern yourself with your uncle again." His thumbs stroked her cheeks. The gesture calmed her, but her chest still twinged, anticipating the death blow she knew he'd someday deliver to her heart.

"You want me to stay here with you? For how long?" She had to have some answers, even if they were painful ones.

"Yes." The first question he answered without hesitation, but the second question he lingered over. "You will stay as long as you like once this business with your uncle is over."

Emily tried to banish the burn of tears. He was not offering marriage or love, but time. If this was all she could have of him, she would take it, for now.

I will think about the consequences tomorrow.

"Then I will stay." Her agreement brought him back down on her again with eager kisses.

The grandfather clock outside chimed nine times. The morning hours slipped away as they lay amid the destruction of pillows and sheets.

"What about breakfast?" she asked in a sated daze.

"Breakfast?" Godric's hand traced designs on her collarbone. She lay back against his chest. One arm lay wrapped around her upper body while fingers danced across her skin. She watched as one formed a decisive pattern over and over again.

"What are you doing?"

His lips curved into a smile against her cheek.

"Writing my name on you."

"If you're claiming me, then I deserve fair turnabout." Emily caught his hand and turned his palm up until it faced her. She held his hand still and used her right index finger to draw her own name in an invisible signature, then she brought his palm to her lips and sealed her name with a kiss. Godric covered her hand with his and nestled their paired hands on her waist. The soft silence between them was warm and secretive. Beyond Godric and their bed nothing else existed.

Was there ever a moment better than this? Nestled in his strong arms, she felt strong herself. She couldn't help but imagine what life could be with the handsome, brooding Duke of Essex, who broke into smiles just for her and made her laugh and cry out with pleasure. Each breath, each kiss shared between them, tied her heart with strings and connected her to him. She'd always feel that cosmic pull towards him and fall into the gravity of his being. Whatever else happened, this moment, this perfect single instance, would always exist. A sunny memory bathed in love and bottled in her heart. It would never be enough, but she would take whatever came her way until it ended.

The rumble of Emily's stomach broke the silence.

"Right! Breakfast! You must be famished!" Godric flew from the bed in a flurry to dress. Emily gathered her torn garments, heading to her room.

When they finally made it to the dining room the others were finishing their meals. Emily read at once their knowing gazes, and she flushed, eyes falling to the floor as she remembered her cries of pleasure. The entire manor must have heard her and Godric last night…and this morning .

Godric greeted them without a hint of embarrassment. "Morning."

"Morning." Lucien had his usual paper, but he folded it down over his fingers to glance at her and Godric before flipping the paper shield back up. Emily decided Lucien was less interested in his paper than in hiding his expression. She had glimpsed a smirk before the newspaper blocked him from view.

Charles stifled a yawn, running a hand through tousled blond hair. He was such an odd man. His clothes always neat, trim and finely cared for, but Charles himself was always sleepy-eyed and rumpled, as though he'd just emerged from bed.

Cedric kept busy by feeding Penelope crumbs of his leftover toast. A servant must have come up and fetched the pup before she and Godric woke.

Ashton regarded Emily with the same intense scrutiny she had given the others. "You look very lovely this morning, Emily."

The compliment startled and pleased her. "Thank you."

Ashton smiled then turned to Godric and—damn the man!—spoke in Italian. Whatever Godric replied seemed to ease Ashton, and amuse the others, except Cedric. He looked more than once in her direction with a mingled look of pity and concern. Emily's stomach knotted. She ate her breakfast, but chewing became a task. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Godric talk and eat with his friends.

After nothing else distressing occurred, she relaxed.

Cedric eased back into his chair. "I say, Godric, how is the fishing in that lake of yours? Anything worth catching this time of year?"

"It's been months since I've been there with the intent to fish. Be my guest, and feel free to take the others with you." Godric put his hand on Emily's knee under the table. Did he want her to go as well?

Emily bit her lip a moment, debating what his touch meant before speaking. "May I go too? I used to love fishing as a child."

Cedric and Charles exchanged amused looks. Godric's hand tightened on her leg.

"May I, Godric?"

"You want to spend the day fishing?" Displeasure darkened his eyes.

"Well, if you'd rather that I didn't…" She wished she understood men better. They were such secretive, guarded creatures, and entirely unpredictable in what they wanted. They were frustrating.

"Let her come, Godric. Fresh air is good for a woman like Emily," Cedric said.

"You truly desire to sit about in a boat for several hours in the sun?" Godric's eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

"You'd be there with me, wouldn't you?" Emily's hand underneath the table settled lightly on top of his hand. "And if you fall in and pretend to drown, I can pretend to rescue you again."

Godric sighed in defeat and shot a rather mutinous glare at Cedric. "Fishing it is then. Give me one hour in my study. I've a few things to attend to." Godric got up from the table and left Emily alone with the other four lords.

Emily finished her hot chocolate before jumping up to follow Godric.

Charles half rose, ready to follow her but Ashton put a hand on his forearm.

"Rest easy, Charles. She is not going anywhere."

"How can you be sure? The little sprite has run us ragged over the past few days! How do you know she's not giving it another go?"

"It is obvious you've never been in love before. Emily doesn't want to let Godric out of her sight. She's attached to him now more than ever."

Charles sat back down. "You're saying that she won't run because she's infatuated with him?"

"Some people spend their entire lives falling in love again and again, over and over. Others fall in love that first time, and it is a true spark of love rather than a passing fancy. What Emily has shown towards Godric is not infatuation." Ashton sighed and took a long sip of his coffee. "And that's what worries me."

He prayed to God that Godric knew what he was doing. If Emily was harmed physically or emotionally it would hurt them all.

To think that the infamous League of Rogues hung on the happiness of one young woman.

Emily paused at the open doorway to Godric's study. He was seated at his desk, poring over ledgers and letters. She took the opportunity to memorize his features, paint them on the canvas of her mind, and burn them into her heart—the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, the strong hands that gripped the pages, the lean muscled legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

With a tentative step she crossed the study's threshold. The wooden floor creaked. Godric glanced up at her, smiled and resumed his work. Perhaps another woman would have been upset that she hadn't been addressed. But Godric's polite acceptance of her trespass had a wholly different meaning. It represented trust. She didn't wish to ruin the moment by being bothersome and distracting. She selected a book from the shelves, a botanical discussion of plants native to Kent, and settled herself on the couch near him.

After a quarter of an hour she looked up to find Godric glaring down at a ledger before him, his teeth gritted in a silent snarl. Emily set her book down and got up from the couch, coming behind Godric and studying what had upset him. It was a messy book of accounts, very ill-kept and confusing. But Emily's keen eye located instantly where the numbers were incorrectly calculated.

She put a hand on his left shoulder, her fingers curled into his shirt. "Oh dear. May I help?"

He turned his head in surprise as though not even aware of her presence.

"What?"

She gestured to the books. "Is this how you keep all your books? "

"It's how I was taught."

"But it's so confusing the way you've set up your columns of numbers."

Godric grinned. "It's how business is done, darling."

This time she arched a brow. "Yes, I know, I've seen it before. In businesses that have failed . Your structure is wrong. It's a wonder I can even follow the entries."

"You know about accounting?"

"Yes, in fact, I do. Would you like me to fix the errors for you? I can tidy it up in a new book if you have a spare one—"

He gaped at her. "You're serious?"

"I helped my father with his." Emily shooed him out of his chair and sat, pulling the ledger closer and taking an empty book when he fetched it for her. She turned the old book back to the first page and started his accounts over. "Numbers are far less confusing when you arrange them correctly," she said. "Let the sums add themselves, as it were."

In less than an hour she'd corrected all of the miscalculations as well as highlighted the weaker investments he'd made, her uncle's mine scheme included. Godric leaned back against the desk next to her.

"Just when I have myself convinced that I've learned everything about you, you surprise me." He twined a lock of her hair about his fingers, eyes warm on her face.

Emily preened. "Then you're pleased with me?" She wanted to be sure she had not injured his male pride. Men were such fragile creatures.

"What do you think?" Godric pulled her up and into his embrace. He laid a languid kiss on her, fingers digging into her lower back as he pushed her closer to his body.

"I suspect that is a yes."

Godric kept his arms about her waist, nuzzling her neck, the embrace sweet rather than sensual.

"Do you really wish to go fishing, darling? We could empty the house of the others and have it all to ourselves." He flicked his tongue inside her ear.

Desire sparked through her like a lightning strike. As much as she wanted to be right back in bed, uniting herself with him, she worried he might tire of her. She needed him to spend time with her outside the bedroom.

She had to keep him wanting her because, the moment he stopped, her heart would shatter and she'd have to take Penelope and leave. She'd never want or love another man as she did Godric. He hadn't just drawn his name on her body, he'd carved it into her heart.

"I do want to fish." She toyed with the folds of his cravat. He caught her hands, lifting them up to his mouth for a kiss.

"I could certainly make you change your mind." The rich timbre of his voice warmed her.

"I know you could, but we mustn't neglect your friends. They are so kind to keep you company while you hold me captive. You ought to repay them with your presence at least during the day."

"You still see yourself as a prisoner?" asked Godric.

She considered this. She still felt caged by the situation, but in the last day, she had felt distinctly less a captive and something far more.

"No. But we do need to be more social. I cannot lie in bed with you all day." No matter how enjoyable that might be.

Godric smiled and tucked her arm in his. "You, my dear, have a resolve made of stone, and a silver tongue." He sighed as they left to rejoin the others.

Cedric and Lucien held the fishing poles and Charles a box of lures. Penelope sat patiently at Ashton's feet, her little black nose upturned as she looked from man to man, waiting and watching, knowing something was afoot.

"Ready?" Cedric made no attempt to conceal his boyish excitement as he brushed his chestnut hair back from his forehead. His brown eyes glowed with the fervent expectation of their future fishing expedition.

"Yes, we are." Emily left Godric's side as she caught up with Cedric and Lucien.

"Did Emily join you in your study after breakfast?" Ashton asked Godric, as they watched Emily and the others.

"Yes, and wouldn't you know it, she helped me sort out my investment ledger. You know how dreadful I am at it. She's an excellent mathematician. She got me well sorted out."

"It seems she is still keeping secrets from us. Emily told me she had no head for business. "

"Indeed." Godric nodded. "But your choice of Italian this morning was smart. She caught none of what we said, I am sure. She would have certainly blushed."

"I meant what I said. You have to be careful with her. She's too young to be a mother."

"Ash, not today, please. I've heard enough of your scolding. Can't I just enjoy Emily? She is happy, I am happy, you ought to be happy."

When Ashton's gaze did not subside Godric continued. "No matter if Emily was to have a dozen babies pulling at her apron, she would never lose that innocence. It is something not even time in bed can cure, and I am glad for that. It makes each moment precious." It was the first time he'd admitted such emotion aloud, but Ashton only smiled.

"As long as you see the value of it for what it is, that Emily is indeed precious, there is still hope for you." Ashton's blue eyes were grayer today, and filled with contemplation and concern.

Godric patted his friend's shoulder. "I'll not do wrong by her, Ash. You have my word on that."

"I am glad to hear it. So long as you treat her kindly you will both be happy."

"Perhaps." Godric knew Emily more and more each day, and while she was gentle to a fault, her rebellious streak was not so much a streak as an impossibly deep river, a river that would never dry up, and never turn its course.

The truth was, he could not do without her. Being with her was like winning the right to breathe. He had to have her, all of her, for as long as he could.

The outing had been an enjoyable one. Cedric was delighted at their catch of perch and wanted to stay out longer, but when the skies above the manor darkened, the group decided to return to shore.

Lucien studied the clouds. "Nasty turn in the weather."

Emily glanced at the marquess. "Do you think it will storm tonight?"

"We could certainly use the rain, but it will make the roads dreadful for any sort of travel."

A low rumble of thunder rippled across the meadow as they walked back to the manor. The sinister crash from the skies churned Godric's stomach. Deep in his bones he sensed something was amiss.

Simkins met them in the hallway, his face strained. "Your Grace, you have a visitor."

"A visitor?" Godric nodded to Cedric and Lucien to take Emily to the drawing room. "I'll only be a minute."

Simkins struggled to maintain his composure. "Yes, Your Grace. She is in the parlor."

"She?"

"It is Miss Mirabeau to see you."

Godric cursed. What the devil was she doing here? He made it clear she was never to darken his doorway again.

Godric patted Simkins's shoulder. "Thank you, Simkins. I'll see her now."

They had once been lovers, but she hadn't understood him and the way he approached his servants. He'd suffered her bad attitude towards his household. Having been born to a family of exiled French aristocrats, she had different expectations of relationships between the classes. Godric viewed a few of his servants like extended family and Evangeline had most vehemently objected to such closeness. The memory of their final fight over her treatment of Simkins left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Evangeline sat primly on the couch near the fireplace, but her demure expression did not fool him one bit. She loved to play at being a lady, but during their time together, Godric hadn't wanted a lady.

"Miss Mirabeau, good evening." She stood up, offering her hand to him. He ignored it and bowed stiffly.

"Why, Godric, we are friends. You mustn't be so formal." She laughed as though amused at his cold reception. Her French accent was softer when she spoke with him. He used to love hearing her breathe his name in the heat of passion.

"I'll be happy to drop formalities. In fact, let us be brief. You're not welcome in my house. What are you doing here?" He wanted her gone, now. She'd no right to come here and disturb his life. Godric especially didn't want Emily to find out about her.

Evangeline turned away from him as she retrieved her fan, swaying her shapely hips. Her dampened salmon-colored gown revealed too much of her body but the sight did not move him.

She dug a letter out of her reticule and handed it over to him. Her eyes ran up and down him as he read .

He placed the letter back into her hands. "I never sent this."

She looked confused, and reached out, putting a hand on his forearm, "But…but mon amour , this is your hand. After all of those letters you've written to me, how could I not recognize it? Do you remember…? How you used to tell me all of the wicked things you wished to do to me?" She pushed her chest forward, though it was hardly necessary.

The thought of bedding this woman no longer held any appeal. "Those days are long past and I wrote no letter asking you to come here. I will instruct your coach to come around." It must be some new scheme of hers. Likely she'd forged it herself in attempt to create a reason to come out here and rekindle their relationship.

" Mon dieu . I didn't bring mine. I came on a hired coach. It only just left before the storm started. I could not possibly leave."

Godric opened his mouth, closed it. What the devil was she playing at?

"Besides, I've sent my servants away for a few days. It would be impossible to find suitable replacements before they return."

He pulled away from her. She was a black stain on his life that he wanted desperately to erase. "You may stay the night and dine in your room. I expect you to leave no later than tomorrow at noon. Do not trouble me or my guests."

She fluttered her lashes. "Trouble? Moi ? Godric, since when have I ever been troublesome?"

He clasped his hands behind his back to resist the temptation to strangle the damn woman. "When? There was the time you spilled tea on my entire collection of cravats when I wouldn't buy you that emerald necklace you wanted."

"An accident, as I told you then."

"Or perhaps the time when you demanded to have your own carriage made with my family crest on it."

" Oui . I admit that was a petite bit presumptuous."

"And let us not forget the reason I made you leave. You demanded I put Simkins to pasture."

Her lips formed a moue . She had nothing to say to that.

"Shall I be staying in my old room?" Her hopeful tone made his skin crawl. Something wasn't right about her here, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

"No. I have friends visiting, as you must have guessed."

"Indeed. I met with Lord Lennox and Lord Lonsdale earlier when they returned from qu'est-ce que c'est …fishing trip?" She seemed to be resisting the urge to laugh at him for enjoying his lands in such a rustic fashion. That was nothing new. "Don't tell me you are forcing a lord to sleep in my lovely little room?"

"A guest."

Evangeline raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "A guest?"

"Yes. A friend of mine from London. She's staying here a while before continuing on to Scotland."

"Very well. If you won't tell me, and you clearly do not wish to entertain me. I suppose I should retire." She was smiling as he showed her out of the parlor. Godric gave Mrs. Downing instructions to settle her and her things in the room at the end of the upstairs hall. The farthest room from his and Emily's.

With Evangeline gone, Godric headed for the drawing room and found Lucien, Cedric, and Charles around a rosewood table playing Whist. Emily was cuddled up next to Ashton on a couch, listening to him read. She put a fist in her mouth stifling a yawn, and stroked Penelope. Jealousy shot through Godric. He wanted to be the one she cuddled against, his shoulder offering her a resting place. Emily glanced up as Godric took a step into the room.

The look in her eyes melted him. He relished that simple joyous expression and tucked it away in the most sacred part of his heart.

She immediately put Penelope down and slid off the couch, going to him.

"You've attended to your visitor?" Ashton rose and came to stand behind Emily. She looked at the two men curiously. Godric knew it must be killing her to not ask for details.

He glanced at Ashton. "She'll dine alone. She knows she must be gone by tomorrow at noon."

A growing sense of unease clenched his insides. Emily raised an eyebrow, and he sighed.

"Miss Evangeline Mirabeau, a former acquaintance of mine. She mistakenly thought I'd invited her here."

Emily blinked rapidly. Her violet eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion. "Evangeline? Your lover is here?" Emily's voice came out a little louder and sharper than she would have liked .

Godric flinched. "How did you know she was my lover?"

The other three men turned around to stare at her.

Emily hesitated, then said, "Look at the company I'm keeping. It was hardly a gamble."

He cupped her chin, tilting her head up. "Former lover," he admitted. "She is no longer welcome here."

Emily wrapped her arms around Godric's arm, searching his face for the faintest hint of deception.

He kissed her forehead. "Trust me, sweetheart. She's nothing to me. There's only you." To his astonishment, he meant it. For him there was only Emily. Only her laugh, her smile, her sunny daydreams and her fierce passion. Everything beyond her was inconsequential, irrelevant.

Emily didn't relax. She was innocent, but she was not without her natural feminine instincts to defend and protect what was hers. Godric, at least for now, was most certainly hers. If Miss Mirabeau decided to declare war over him, Emily would prove herself to be a dangerous foe. The grim determination in her face warmed him. He held her more tightly against him.

Ashton's brows drew together. "You said she thought you'd invited her?"

"Yes. She showed me a letter she'd received. It certainly looked like my handwriting. She claimed someone must have played a prank on her."

Ashton's frown deepened. "Perhaps. But the timing could not be more suspicious. We'd best be on guard for mischief. "

Charles nodded. "I agree. Evangeline is an ungrateful little—"

Lucien stamped on Charles's foot to silence him.

"When is dinner?" Emily asked Godric, still leaning into him.

"In a few hours, I imagine. Why?"

"Might I have a bath? I didn't have a chance this morning." She squeezed his arm.

Godric's lips twitched in a smile.

"Of course, I'm sorry I forgot. Come with me." He walked her out of the drawing room, leaving behind four men who knew far more about her personal life than was proper. But nothing about the League was proper, and that was the way it should be.

Emily had calmed down after the scare of Evangeline's unexpected arrival before they reached the stairs, but her relief was short-lived. A door at the far end of the hall opened. Godric's arm tightened beneath her grasp.

"Ah bonsoir , Godric!" The most attractive woman Emily had ever seen walked down the hall. She was radiant with her salmon-toned gown, large breasts and wide hips. Blonde ringlets danced down her back in perfect proportions.

Emily's chest tightened. She expected Godric to have taken a gorgeous woman as his lover, but to see this Aphrodite in the flesh was too much to bear. By comparison, she was young and inexperienced. She could never match Evangeline in looks or mimic that lusty gaze or sway of hips. To Emily's mortification, she realized she was no competition. If Godric wanted a real woman he could take Evangeline back without question.

Godric frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the required introduction. "Return to your room at once." The sharp tone in his voice made both women flinch.

"But, Godric…" Evangeline began in a breathy lilting French accent.

Emily was thankful she didn't have to exchange pleasantries with this woman. She wanted to toss her out the nearest window, preferably one overlooking a prickly rose bush. That would mar her perfect complexion nicely.

Evangeline put a well manicured hand on his arm. "I was about to seek some entertainment. Godric, are you sure you will not join me?"

Godric slid his other arm around Emily. "I have matters to attend to. My other guests are in the drawing room. I suggest you seek their company." There was a command rippling out of those words. A command Evangeline ignored.

"You would not throw me to those wolves you call friends?"

Emily almost growled. "Wolves? Those four men downstairs are some of the most generous and charitable men in all of England. Don't dare insult them." Emily delivered her speech with such venom she hoped Evangeline would wither on the spot. Instead, she laughed.

"I speak in jest." The gleam in her eyes belied her words. She turned to Godric again. "Wherever did you find such a charmingly na?ve creature, Godric? Children can be so sweet when they misunderstand things."

Child? Resentment tore through Emily's insides. Had Godric not been standing there, she might have done something truly childish…such as pull the woman's hair out, ringlet by blasted ringlet.

Godric rescued Emily from any further embarrassment. "You must excuse us." As rescues went it felt more like a cowardly retreat.

Alone in the safety of her room, Emily pulled away from him.

"Why didn't you defend me? Why didn't you…do something?" Emily fought off the urge to shout at him. His lack of action felt like a betrayal.

Godric sat at the edge of her bed while she paced. "I wanted more than anything to take you in my arms and kiss you senseless, prove you were my woman."

Emily's blood heated at the thought. "Then why didn't you?"

Godric seemed bemused. "Because she can be jealous and when she is people get hurt, my dear."

"Are you saying you want to protect me?" This was amusing coming from the man who'd destroyed her reputation.

Godric's lips twitched but he continued. "I don't want her to go to the magistrate and tell him I've been secretly keeping you. Not before I visit your uncle once more. It could bring Blankenship back down on our heads."

"Surely she doesn't know why I'm here. "

"At the moment, no, but she is clever and might guess. It would be best for you to avoid her."

She knew it was risky bringing up the truth of her feelings, but she did so anyway. "Godric, I no longer care about my reputation. I care about you."

Godric's arms curled around her waist. Emily surrendered, leaning back against him. He kissed her neck lightly, teasingly.

"You really mean that?" His breath stirred her hair.

"Yes. I don't care what she thinks about me."

He spun her around in his arms and leaned his head down, touching his forehead to hers. "No, little vixen—I meant, did you mean that you care about me?"

"Of course I care for you." Emily's cheeks heated. She'd admitted it once, when half asleep, but now was different. She wasn't blinded by passion. This was her heart, exposed and aching for him to return her love.

Godric's hands settled on her lower back, pushing her tighter to him. He kissed the corner of her mouth, and then the tip of her nose, then her chin.

"Do you love me, Emily?" He clenched her harder, the pleasure of his touch making her lightheaded with desire.

"I…"

"Answer my question." It was a sensual rumble, not a command.

Emily shivered. "Yes. Yes, I love you!"

Sweet amusement shone in Godric's emerald eyes. He was a sorcerer, casting love spells over her heart, stealing her soul with honeyed kisses and whispered dreams .

He lifted her chin and fixed his eyes on her. "Then rest easy. So long as you love me, you need not worry about any other woman. Do you understand?"

"I understand." But she didn't. He hadn't said he loved her, but he'd promised to be faithful so long as she loved him… What on earth did that mean? Could she trust the word of a rake?

Godric released her and started towards the door. "I'll send Libba up to prepare your bath."

"Godric…" Emily shouldn't have spoken. She'd set herself up for disappointment. He paused, hand resting on the door handle. He looked back at her.

"Do you love me?" God, she sounded pitiful.

The sweet, pleased expression which had rested so comfortably on his face withered. "Emily…" Her name escaped his lips in a heartrending sigh. "For me, it is not an easy question."

I must not cry… I will not cry . She tried to remind herself that this was the man who had abducted her and seduced her. She focused on these darker memories, or else the pain in her heart would surely strangle the very breath from her body.

"You demand an answer from me, but cannot answer in kind?" When he didn't reply, she threw herself against him, kissing him. Emily curled her fingers into his cravat, pulling him down so she could better reach his mouth.

Pinning him against the door, she plundered his startled mouth. It hurt that he didn't love her, but she couldn't help loving him. Come what may, she truly, deeply loved Godric St. Laurent .

Emily broke the kiss and turned away, putting distance between them. The floorboards creaked as he took a step towards her, but came no further. Emily's head fell, her eyes fixed on a spot on the floor, and she waited for him to say or do something.

"I…I care for you, very much." And then he was gone, taking her heart with him. She knew with painful certainty she could never get it back.