Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

A shton woke the next morning with a horrible crick in his neck. He had fallen asleep in a chair outside Godric's door. He yawned and rubbed the tight muscles on the back of his neck. What a night.

Ashton dared to peek into Godric's room and found his friend cuddled up with Emily as though the two would never part again.

He shut the door and returned to his chair. Godric, you will marry her. There's no other way to keep her safe and yourself sane.

No one had woken him to change the guard as scheduled. Rather than let anger rise up in him, he merely smiled.

How strange it all was that an act of abduction born of Godric's wounded pride would end up like this? With Godric hopelessly smitten by a singularly unique young lady every bit his equal.

Simkins came up the stairs carrying a tea tray, which meant he must have wanted to have a private word with Ashton without the other servants overhearing.

"Would you care for a cup of tea, Lord Lennox?" Simkins asked.

"Yes, thank you." He took the offered cup of steaming tea. "What hour is it, Simkins?"

"It is a little past nine in the morning."

Ashton ran a hand along his chin where pale two day stubble already shadowed his jaw. "Nine, you say? Lord… We've slept too long." He took a sip of tea. "Is anyone else awake?"

Simkins smiled. "No, my lord, you are the first. The entire house is quite exhausted from the previous day's events. I let the staff sleep in until eight-thirty this morning. I hope His Grace won't mind."

Ashton flicked his head towards the closed bedroom door. "I'm sure he won't. He has other things to concern himself with at the moment."

The butler grew serious. "May I speak with you, my lord? I have a favor to ask."

"Name it," Ashton said, without hesitation.

"Much has occurred these past few days. His Grace has endured many things." Simkins kept his voice low. "Stability is needed in his life."

"Stability?" Ashton took another sip. The hot liquid felt good on his throat. "I suppose you have a suggestion?"

"I hope—that is to say, I wish—for you to suggest to His Grace that he should do the right thing by Miss Parr and marry her. It wouldn't do for me to make such a suggestion. "

"Because you had to give notice over the matter of the pistol."

"Oh no, my lord. His Grace forbade me from leaving his employment until I had paid for the hideous vase I broke. Then proceeded to drink so much he forgot I had ever offered my resignation in the first place. No, though I did what I could to tend to His Grace's needs growing up, I'm afraid when it comes to matters of the heart my instruction was quite lacking. You are the better choice."

He put his cup down. "Let me ask you something, Simkins. Why do you think he should marry her?"

Simkins stood erect and regal, still holding the tray. "I have never seen His Grace so concerned about another soul in his entire life, except perhaps for you and your friends. But that is a love he knows and understands. Comradery, if you will. With Miss Parr, he may not recognize that his passions are fueled by a deeper yearning. Perhaps you can help him see that."

The butler's words, the weight of importance he'd placed on his duties to Godric and the St. Laurent family, moved Ashton deeply.

"Rest easy, Simkins. I quite agree with you. I'll speak to the others and we will raise the matter with him."

"Thank you, my lord. It comforts me to know he has chosen well in his friends." Simkins bowed his head and retreated down the stairs with his tea tray.

Ashton finished his tea in the quiet silence of the empty hallway, contemplating their other problem. The threat of Blankenship had never left his mind. It was unwise to remain at Godric's estate while Blankenship plotted Emily's capture .

The man was more foolhardy than Ashton could believe. Had he actually hired thugs to attack the duke's estate? It had to be a bluff, but Blankenship was capable of almost anything. He had destroyed more than one rival in a completely legal manner through financial disasters. Yet those had been over issues of money. With a woman involved, Ashton couldn't help but fear Blankenship would resort to more violent measures. Well, if that was the case, Ashton would not underestimate him.

Perhaps the best solution was to play a game of thimblerig with Emily in London. They could move her from residence to residence, since the League members owned several. It would be impossible for Blankenship to find her.

In the meantime they needed to convince Godric that he ought to marry Emily. If he did, Blankenship would have no claim to her. Emily would be infinitely safer and a scandalous kidnapping would become a romantic elopement in the eyes of society. A door opened down the hall and a bleary-eyed Cedric came out, shirt and breeches wrinkled as though he'd slept in them. He yawned and then caught sight of Ashton.

"How go the sentinel duties?"

Ashton chuckled. "Intolerably dull. I had expected much more entertainment, but the love birds haven't moved an inch. Godric is finally getting some rest, though."

Cedric heaved a sigh. "Thank God for that."

"Cedric, are your sisters at your house in London? "

"Yes, they've been there for two weeks." Cedric eyed Ashton. "Why?"

"Would you mind if we brought Emily to London and hid her in your house? If your sisters are present they might make for a confusing scene if Blankenship's men end up looking there."

Cedric's brown eyes narrowed. "Are you asking me to use my sisters as bait?"

Ashton held up his hands. "No! But I think that Blankenship won't expect us to take Emily to London. She might escape notice there. Meanwhile, we will spread ourselves out into the other residences about London and scatter Blankenship's men until—" Ashton paused here, hesitant to reveal his plans fully.

"Until?"

"Until we can convince Godric to marry Emily."

Cedric was quiet for a long moment. "You think he will?"

"I think he must. He cares about her to the point of self-destruction. She loves him. There can be no other answer."

Cedric frowned. "He's the one who always insisted that matrimony was folly. What if he doesn't agree?"

Ashton raised his chin. "Then he is a fool. But Emily must be protected. If Godric won't marry her, then I shall. She'll be free to live and love as she chooses, as will I. It is not an uncommon arrangement, so long as both parties use discretion. But she needs the protection of marriage." He couldn't forget the greed in Blankenship's eyes, the monstrous coldness that overtook his nature when he'd searched room by room for the girl. "Otherwise, Blankenship will hound her steps until the day she dies."

"You can throw my name onto the list of marriage options. We can let her choose between us, should Godric refuse."

This surprised Ashton. He thought he would be the only one willing to endure matrimony for Emily, but it appeared he'd been mistaken. "And what of Anne Chessley? If Emily chooses you, you could never make Anne a mistress, not when you've married her friend."

Cedric's face transformed into such a state of despair that Ashton set his cup aside and rose from his chair in concern.

"Perhaps not, but I would give Anne up, if Emily chose me. For my sins in this affair, I owe her. I'd do everything in my power to protect her."

"Let us hope that Emily won't need to choose anyone besides Godric."

Godric heard every word from behind the door. He'd been content to let Emily stay nestled up against him, but at the sound of Simkins's voice, he'd forced himself up. He paused at the door and absorbed the conversation between his butler and later his friends, moved by their views and touched by the sincerity of their wishes.

However their offers hadn't been necessary. Godric had decided last night he'd marry Emily. As soon as they reached London, he'd start immediately on wedding plans. But, to maintain Emily's safety, the ceremony would have to be hasty.

With an excited smile, he splashed his face at the washbasin before he changed for breakfast.

He adjusted his cravat in the mirror when Emily stirred. He moved to the bed, leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Stay in bed awhile, darling. I'm just going down to breakfast."

She sighed, shifted under the covers and drifted back to sleep.

For a long moment, he simply enjoyed the sight of her. Soon they'd have a lifetime to share, and for the first time in Godric's life, he looked forward to the idea of one woman till death did he part.

And, to think, if Albert Parr hadn't been of such low moral fiber, Godric would never have met Emily, never known her the way he did now.

On an irresistible impulse he bent down to kiss Emily's lips. Her mouth opened sleepily beneath his and he savored the sweetness. An eternity would not be enough time. He would always yearn for her, all of her, body and soul.

The League of Rogues convened in the dining room that morning to discuss the upcoming London trip while Emily slept.

Godric sipped his coffee. "Once we reach London…" he paused, enjoying the strained looks of his companions. "I have decided that Emily and I shall be married. "

The dining room was silent for several long seconds before Ashton and Cedric exhaled in obvious relief.

"I was worried I would have to twist your arm to convince you to marry. I will be happy to procure a marriage license for you."

Godric nodded. "Yes. See to it we have everything necessary to arrange a quick ceremony." He turned to the marquess. "Lucien, it's up to you to lead Blankenship down a false trail, lest he try to interfere."

Lucien grinned.

Charles scooted forward in his seat. "And me?"

"You'll be with Cedric, as part of Emily's protection. Never let her out of your sight, unless one of us is with her."

Charles had always viewed himself as a protective knight, and now he would play the part.

Cedric tossed a piece of crust to Penelope, who sat at his heels, tail swishing back and forth. "You know, Godric, you could just whisk Emily away to Gretna Green. It would save you the trouble of having to confront Parr. For all we know he might warn Blankenship of your plans."

Godric frowned. That was not the wedding she deserved. He didn't want his future duchess marked by further scandal. No. He would meet and speak with Parr, and get the wretched man to accompany him to the church for the marriage ceremony. Bound and gagged if need be.

"I am the Duke of Essex and I will not run off with my tail between my legs. We will avoid Blankenship if possible, and if we cannot, he will be dealt with. "

There were nods all around the table.

"Ashton, can you arrange for the ceremony to be at St. George's in Hanover Square?" That was all the rage in London now. It was a lovely church, well known for its impressive front portico supported by six tall Corinthian columns and a tower just behind the portico, near enough to the League's various residences that the trip would not prove risky.

Ashton grinned. "I suppose. I do have some pull with the bishop. He owes me a favor ever since that incident last year, during Michaelmas, you know." The other men laughed with him, knowing what trouble the bishop had gotten himself into.

"When are you planning on telling Emily?" Lucien asked.

"Not until after we have all our plans settled and her tucked away in Cedric's townhouse. I want her to be at ease and feel safe when I propose. She has endured too much these last few days and a rushed proposal will not make her happy."

Suddenly the dining room door opened and Jonathan entered. An awkward hesitancy marred his steps. He'd never dared to intrude on Godric or the others before.

Godric watched him silently, curious to see what he would do.

Jonathan cleared his throat, "I know you and I have not spoken of our new situation…as…brothers, Your Grace, but—"

"If you are my brother, then you can stop addressing me as Your Grace. Now what do you want? "

"I wish to go to London with you and help with Emily."

The newly discovered brothers stared at each other for a moment before Godric said, "Very well. She is to be your sister-in-law soon enough. You ought to have some say in all of this. You shall accompany Cedric and Charles. Three is better than two for Emily's protection."

Godric didn't smile, but his tone was calm and accepting. If Emily could forgive him, then he could certainly forgive his brother.

Jonathan visibly relaxed. Clearly he'd expected a fight.

"Sit down and eat." Godric gestured to the fine breakfast on the sideboard.

Jonathan flushed, but bravely filled a plate and chose a seat next to Ashton, who smiled and gave a warm nod.

"You any good with a pistol, Jonathan?" Charles asked.

"More so with a flintlock rifle, but yes." Jonathan swallowed a bite of jam-covered toast.

"Excellent. We'll make a fine team, the three of us," Cedric said.

"What time are we to leave?" Jonathan asked.

"By noon, we hope. Emily needs as much rest as we can manage to give her. The carriage ride will be unpleasant enough, as ill as she's been."

"Well, I suppose the rest of us should be packed and ready." Ashton rose from his chair with the soft but firm suggestion in his tone that the others follow suit.

They left Godric and Jonathan alone. This was why he loved his friends. They followed his judgment and accepted Jonathan. They had always treated him nicely before—a man's valet was sacred, after all—but now he was one of them.

"Have you had enough to eat?" Godric asked after a few minutes. Jonathan flicked a glance to his empty plate and nodded. "Good. Join me in my study?"

Godric's study was still a bit untidy after his self-imposed exile. But Simkins had removed the trays of untouched food and the broken glass, and put back all the books Godric had ripped from the shelves in his rage. Godric sat down and motioned for Jonathan to do the same. Jonathan eased back into one of the chairs facing Godric's desk.

"There are some matters to settle between us." Godric leaned forward a few inches. "I want you to move your things out of your current quarters once this business with Emily is settled."

Jonathan's eyes dropped to the floor. "I understand, Your Grace. I lost my temper with you, and I put Miss Parr in danger. I should like to make my apologies with the young lady before I go, however."

It struck Godric how blinded he'd been, never suspecting for a moment they shared a father. It made him wonder what else he'd missed by simply not looking.

"Jonathan, I'm not forcing you to leave the manor. I only meant for you to choose a room on the upper floor, a room more suitable to your new status in this household."

"My new status?"

"Yes. We're brothers, by blood and by law. If you think I'll toss you to the wayside, you're mistaken. Unless of course you wish to leave. I wouldn't insist that you stay. But I'd like it if you would."

Jonathan's face flushed. "You really would not mind my staying on here, Your Grace?"

"I've always despised being an only child. We are brothers, and that is all that matters to me. Even in my anger I doubt I could have killed you once Simkins told me. I might have throttled you a bit."

"Your Grace." Jonathan cast his eyes down again. "I don't mean to make things more uncomfortable between us, Your…Godric. But how do we go on from here? I've been your valet for nearly six years and a servant since I was born. What happens now?"

"Enjoy yourself. You've studied nearly as much as I have. You know the proper manners, it's merely time to employ them. All you must do is raise your head, not look down at the floor and wear different clothes, and learn how to dance, of course. I'm considering settling one of Father's unentailed estates upon you. I'll put it in trust. It will be an easy competence. Whenever you are ready to settle down and marry I will turn it over to you."

Jonathan blinked, eyes round as saucers. "My own estate?"

"As the second son it would be your due. I daresay you've worked hard enough for it."

Jonathan's eyes began to glisten, which made Godric uncomfortable.

"Damn it, Jon, smile for heaven's sake. No need to turn into a watering pot," he said, hoping to raise his brother's spirits.

Jonathan scraped the heel of his hand over his eyes, blinked rapidly and nodded.

"When I was a child I used to envy you, Godric. But Simkins told me what life was like for you. I was kept safe in my mother's care, but Simkins never let me forget what you endured. I thought he did it to prevent jealousy."

Godric's eyes darkened as they fixed on a spot on the wall. He could still hear his father say, "I need a reason to beat a servant, but not to beat my own son." There was only one bastard in their family, and it certainly wasn't Jonathan.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is, I wish I could have shared the sting. I hate knowing you suffered that alone."

Godric leaned back into his chair and started to smile, really smile.

"Would you have any interest in joining me and the other lords once a month at our club, Berkley's, in London?"

"They wouldn't mind the intrusion?" Jonathan had been there many times as his valet, but not a member.

"They've always liked you, and blood is blood. I want you to join our League. What do you say?"

"Absolutely."

Emily clung to Godric's side, nervous as they entered Cedric's townhouse. His sisters, Miss Sheridan and Miss Audrey, were inside. It was strange, but she wanted to make a good impression.

Cedric caught sight of his sisters. "There you are! Come over here and meet Emily."

The elder, Horatia, was taller, with more classical features, a long neck and sharp cheekbones that reminded Emily of a swan. Though shorter, Audrey was just as pretty, her face rounder and more childlike, but not in a way that hid the intelligence in her eyes.

"Emily, this is my sister, Horatia. Horatia, this is Miss Emily Parr. And this is Audrey." Cedric chucked his littlest sister under her chin.

Horatia gave a warm smile. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Parr."

Emily released her grip on Godric's arm and smiled back. "Please call me Emily."

"Then you must call me Horatia."

"You have a lovely home, Horatia." Emily looked about the expansive marbled floors and gilded furnishings of the hall.

"Oh, Horatia, allow me to introduce you to my half-brother, Jonathan St. Laurent." Godric prodded Jonathan forward to bow for his introduction.

"Surely you jest, we both know your valet, Mr. Helprin. Shame on you for such a weak attempt at a joke, Your Grace." Horatia shifted nervously.

"It is a long and sordid tale, Miss Sheridan, but I assure you it is true. He is my brother."

"It's a pleasure, Miss Sheridan." Jonathan bowed over Horatia's extended hand and brushed his lips over her fingers. She blushed.

Next to Jonathan, Lucien narrowed his eyes. Emily looked back and forth between Lucien and Horatia. Was that the glitter of jealousy?

Cedric suggested they proceed to the parlor, but Horatia fixed her brother with a black look. "Cedric, you and the other gentleman will freshen up first. Half of you smell like horses."

"You've never minded the smell before," said Cedric.

Horatia raised a brow. "You've never brought so many guests before. It's like a stable in here. Emily may stay, she clearly rode in a carriage."

Emily enjoyed watching the sparks fly between brother and sister, but at last Ashton interceded. "She's right, Cedric. We've ridden too long today to subject these ladies to the aromas of the country."

"As if London smells any better," grumbled Cedric, and lead the others upstairs. The women headed to the parlor, free of the men for a short while.

Audrey and Horatia surrounded Emily on the couch and assailed her with questions. It did not take long to coerce the full truth of Emily's abduction. They even knew the intimate goings on between her and Godric.

A rosy blush blossomed in Audrey's cheeks as she shyly asked, "Is it true Godric…compromised you?" It seemed the reach of their gossip exceeded those of the Lady Society column, but they vowed to keep silent.

Audrey took a deep breath. "What was it like?"

Horatia pinched her sister's arm. "Audrey!"

Audrey scrunched her nose. "It's a valid question. Cedric never tells us anything. We have to learn from someone."

Emily's face reddened, but she decided to be open with them. "It is hard to describe. It is terrifying at first, like you are about to die, but you don't. I doubt I could have been with any other man than Godric. You must trust the man you are with. Otherwise, I don't think you can feel safe enough for…" Emily trailed off.

"Dying?" Horatia asked breathlessly.

"Yes. Well, I really shouldn't talk about it. I sound like some lightskirt."

Audrey steered the conversation to a safer harbor. "So you will stay with us here?"

"I believe so. Those blasted men have all been tightlipped about their plans, even Jonathan. They barely said a word on the carriage ride over, and they made me leave Penelope behind."

"The foxhound Cedric bought you?"

Emily's smile wilted. "Yes, poor thing. She barked and bit Jonathan when they took her away. I hope I can return to her soon. Simkins must be having a dreadful time keeping the carpets clean."

Horatia leaned forward and laid a slender, elegant hand on Emily's. "Well, not to worry. There are plenty of animals running about here. We have two old cats hiding somewhere upstairs." She giggled. "Mittens and Muff."

"Mittens and Muff?"

Horatia's lips twitched. "That's what Audrey named them. She was only ten years old, and got them for Christmas as a pair. She received new mittens and a muff from Cedric, so naturally she just named the cats the same thing."

Audrey tilted her chin up. "I was a child, Horatia! You make me sound so insipid!"

Emily patted Audrey's hand. "I think they are darling names."

Horatia grinned. "While you are here, we'll keep you entertained so much that you won't have time to miss Penelope."

Somehow Emily didn't doubt that.

The gentlemen, freshly changed and far more sociable, invaded the parlor soon after the women finished talking. Even Jonathan, though rather shy at being an active part in such a social gathering, seemed to enjoy himself as he and Charles engaged Audrey in conversation.

Only two people seemed out of sorts—Lucien and, oddly, Horatia. Lucien stood in the corner of the room near Cedric and Ashton, but his gaze kept sliding back towards Horatia, who did her best to ignore him.

At first Emily assumed Lucien had an amorous interest in Horatia, but the cold, imperious glances from Lucien received shameful blushes from Horatia. Something had happened between them, and Emily couldn't even begin to guess what. Before she contemplated the matter further, however, Godric stole up on her from behind.

"May I speak to you in private?" he whispered in her ear. He put a guiding hand on her lower back, and the pair slipped out of the room unnoticed. Godric led her to the drawing room a few doors down.

"Emily, we are to be married tomorrow." Godric announced this without so much as a romantic preamble, as though it were a contract that only required her handshake at this point. Emily stared at him. Did he really just expect her to say yes? She loved him, but she wouldn't just agree because he'd declared it. It was that very commanding, dominating attitude she hated, whether it came from her uncle, Blankenship or Godric.

"No."

"Wonderf—wait." Godric gripped her by the shoulders, looming over her, his presence more dominating than ever. "What do you mean, no?"

"No. I won't marry you." It made little sense to her heart, but her head reminded her that she could not simply agree because he'd declared it. She needed to be allowed the choice to say no.

"But you love me, Emily. What more is there for you to want?"

Emily drew a deep breath. "Godric, have you learned nothing about me at all since we met? I need my freedom, the ability to control my own life. I cannot agree to marry you simply because you decree it."

"This isn't about your freedom, it's about your safety."

Emily looked away. "I understand that you think so. But know this, I don't have to marry you. I could find a willing bridegroom who would ignore the scandal you've created and take me to wife. I would rather marry a desperate fortune hunter than you, if it was the only way I could have control in my life." It stung her soul to say it, but she meant it. There was something terrifying about the prospect of marrying a man she loved, knowing he didn't love her back, simply because he was trying to do the noble thing. It would only result in unhappiness for them both. She couldn't have it.

"You really don't wish to marry me?" He jerked back as though her words had struck him like a sword. His grip loosened, and then he dropped his hands, severing the connection between them. The loss of his touch chilled her.

"It is not a matter of wishing. I want to marry you, I do, but I won't, not at the cost of my freedom."

Godric turned away from her, a tic working his jaw.

"And you think some fortune hunter will allow you that freedom?"

"You would have me live by your terms at your whim. Any man I choose will have to agree that he'll let me be and live my life as I choose after we're married. Which would you choose?"

Emily put a hand on his shoulder from behind. He flinched and jerked away, spinning back around to face her.

"Why would you do me this great hurt? Why?" he asked, voice thick with emotion, eyes blazing.

"Because." Emily's throat constricted, burning with the pain of those awful words, but they were true. "Because you will tire of me and I can't bear to think about losing you. If I don't marry you, you will never be mine to lose."

"But you must marry me! You aren't safe if you aren't tied to me by marriage." Mere moments took him from rage, to bargaining.

"Precisely. You only wish to marry me to secure my safety. You are a true gentleman in all the ways that matter, Godric, but I can't let you suffer binding yourself to me when it will make us both unhappy in the future."

"We would be happy—"

"For a time. But it isn't enough. I need to be loved. I could stand to be married to a man who didn't love me if I didn't love him. But I love you and it would break my heart to not be loved back." Emily couldn't believe she was holding up so bravely. That she hadn't collapsed in grief.

"Emily…I love you."

Emily shut her eyes, wishing they could live forever in the past. Losing him now, even though he was never hers, might yet rip the life from her body.

"You think you love me, but you don't. I don't want to live my life under that illusion."

Her words sparked his temper. "My love for you is not an illusion!" His jade eyes flared and the darker side of Godric reared its head.

Emily backed away. Her pulse raced. "I think we should discuss this later, when you aren't so upset."

"Upset? What possible reason could I have for being upset?" Godric's voice rose sharply. "The woman I love doesn't believe me and won't marry me! "

Emily winced, hoping the others wouldn't hear him shout.

"Hear me, Emily. You will be my wife, or you will be someone else's, but you will be married. Cedric and Ashton have both offered to wed you. Is that what you want?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her up against the length of him.

Emily's breath caught in her throat, his face was mere inches from hers.

"You speak as though I'm chattel to be traded about. I won't marry them either. Do you understand?" She tried to pull away from him. As much as she loved him, longed to say yes to him, her heart wouldn't allow it. She might have survived the rest of her life as his lover but not his wife. But she couldn't put him in a position where someday he'd betray their vows or worse, come to an "understanding" as many of the men of his standing did.

Godric captured her chin, forcing her face back towards his and growled low in his throat. "Emily, I have no patience for this—"

She stomped her foot on his boot. "I have no patience for you!"

"I swore to never let you go, and I won't. You belong with me." Godric fisted a hand in her hair, and slanted his mouth down over hers. She fisted her hands against his chest.

"And when you tire of me? When you desire someone else? I will be chained to our cold, empty, marriage bed. Will you punish me then? Will you rip my inheritance from my hands and dispense with it?" She knew she'd gone too far. Godric's eyes glittered with rage, with pain, and a dangerous lust she'd seen only once before.

He slammed his lips down over hers. His kiss was bruising, fiery, hungry and punishing. Its ferocity made Emily buckle and collapse in his embrace. He wound an arm around her waist as he assaulted her senses; his lips stole her breath and robbed her of her sanity. It was just the way every kiss should be, full of fire and light, splintering one's soul and merging the pieces with another's until theirs beat as one, mighty heart.

When he finally released her, she staggered back a step, and he reached to steady her.

"No! Don't touch me. I can't think when you do." Emily tore away from him, running towards the door. She collided with Charles, who had been loitering outside, along with Jonathan and Cedric.

Charles caught Emily's wrists, holding her still despite her frantic struggles. "Everything all right?"

Godric appeared in the doorway. "No, it isn't! Take her upstairs and lock her in a room. She needs time to calm down."

"Me?" Emily shouted back. "You are the one who—"

"Charles, get her upstairs now!"

A crowd gathered as the others vacated the parlor and came out into the hall.

Charles took hold of Emily. She fought back, not caring whether she made a spectacle of herself. Charles huffed in irritation, and then dipped down, and hauled her up over his shoulder. "This seems familiar," he said.

Emily curled her fingers into fists and struck him on the back, but his muscled back seemed impervious to her blows. "Put me down at once. I've had enough of this!"

Horatia stepped forward. "Really, Charles! Put her down this instant! I will not have my guests treated in such a fashion!"

"Sorry, I have my orders," Charles said, curt but not unkind, and headed up the stairs with Cedric and Jonathan following behind.

Horatia scowled and started to chase after them, but an iron hand closed around her wrist, dragging her back from the stairs.

It was Lucien.

"Don't interfere, Horatia. You've done enough of that already." His warning carried an undercurrent of the past, a reminder that she had often interfered where she shouldn't.

Godric growled and stomped down the hall to another room, where he slammed the door shut. He stumbled back out a moment later, a broom toppling to the floor behind him.

"Who moved the closet there?" he thundered, then entered the next room down and once more slammed the door.