Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

T he silence that followed Emily's words lasted for several unpleasant minutes. When Cedric stood up from the table, she was relieved for the opportunity to think of something other than her current situation.

"The sun is out. Fair weather for riding." Cedric sidestepped around a pair of footmen removing plates from the breakfast table. "Mind if I borrow a horse? Mine was favoring his left foreleg last night."

Emily stood as Ashton and Lucien took their leave. Charles vanished, but only after casting her a particularly wicked grin.

"The stables are always open to you, Cedric."

Emily rose excitedly at the prospect of riding. "May I go with him, Your Grace? It has been ages since I've been riding." The memory of her last ride was still bittersweet. Uncle Albert had sold her horse to pay off a debt her first week at his house. She still remembered the well-oiled leather saddle and the rough hair of her gelding's mane. She missed riding, missed her old life.

Godric's green eyes narrowed. Emily did her best not to show defiance. He had to suspect she would try and escape. She'd said as much only a moment ago.

"My temper may improve if I felt less like a prisoner and had some fresh air," she added.

"Is that an apology for your outburst?" asked Godric.

"It is the closest you will receive if I am kept confined to this house."

"I suppose you can go riding, but I am coming as well." Godric put a firm hand on her shoulder.

Emily hid her disappointment. It would be next to impossible to escape with even one of them around, but with two? Still, opportunities only arose if one sought them out.

"May I have a moment to change my clothes?"

Godric assented and escorted her back to her chamber, waiting outside. Emily dug through the armoire, and decided on a lovely light blue Glengarry riding habit. Lace, braids and embroidered frogs trimmed the jacket. She draped the train over one arm and rejoined Godric in the hall. His gaze swept over her approvingly. Though she didn't want his approval, she raised her chin a little with pride.

As Godric offered his arm, Emily took note of the beauty of the house. Statues of men and women in Grecian garb adorned the alcoves along the hall, like silent watchers.

Emily gazed up at the face of a beautiful marble woman. I wonder what you've seen . The statue clutched at the edge of a robe ready to slip off her breast. The seductive shyness in its eyes entranced her.

Godric's Hessian boots echoed against the marble floors, and his laughter joined in. It laced his tone as he tugged her along. "What are you looking at?"

Emily pointed at the statue. "Her."

Godric glanced over his shoulder at the statue and grinned. "I used to look at her and dream of women when I was a boy. This was before I realized that the flesh and blood variety were infinitely better." His eyes swept down her face, lingered on her breasts. A prickle of indignation tingled along her skin. She wasn't naturally violent, but everything Godric did made her want to slap him.

At least a dozen horses dwelled in the Essex stable, all fine beasts, glossy-coated and eager. She'd grown up on horseback, but did not mention this. If Godric knew of her accomplished skill, he might refuse her. She'd have to be careful.

The roan gelding was a beautiful beast, with slender ankles and strong muscles that twitched beneath his skin. This wasn't the horse Godric rode the night before. That had been a black monolith against the waning moonlight, like a fierce charger from the Middle Ages. The gelding in front of her possessed the springing, playful steps of youth. It bent forward, stretched its back, tossed its head to and fro, as it might in the fields beneath the sun's warmth. Godric had fine taste in horseflesh, she could give him that.

Emily feigned shyness as she reached out to stroke the horse. He was a curious creature, but like all thoroughbreds, the gelding showed his arrogance. His dark, cinnamon eyes fixed on her reproachfully, yet he couldn't resist bumping his nose against her palm. She jumped back theatrically when he jerked his head up and huffed.

Godric stood so close that she collided with his hard chest. His hands wound around her waist in an instant. Emily gulped as she realized how small she was in comparison to the man behind her. His grip tightened when she wriggled. Her bottom brushed against him. Startled, she jumped, but his grip kept her prisoner.

His fingertips slid up her ribcage towards her breasts. They swelled, and her nipples pebbled then rasped against the fabric of her gown. They were sensitive and aching and she didn't understand the cause of the sensation. I hate this man. He's ruined me . Why then was her breath quickening? Godric's fingers rubbed the underside of her breasts, exciting her further. His touch drew her in, the lure of his passion was a flame but when she drew too close it burned her back to awareness. They had an audience. He was attempting to seduce her here in the stables, in front of his friend. She trembled in anger, but also to a foreign, unfamiliar sensation, not unlike excitement.

His rakehell ways are already corrupting me. She summoned her nerve to defy him and his touch as she slipped from his grip.

Frustrated, Godric stared at Emily. Did his touch have no effect on her? He caught Cedric watching him out of the corner of his eye; no doubt he'd seen it all. They exchanged silent looks and Cedric shrugged as though to commiserate with him. True, it had been six months since his last mistress. When the bloom of that particular relationship had worn off, it had cured him of the fairer sex for a time. Evangeline had been wild in bed, but out of it her personality had been abrasive. She'd treated their relationship like a game, which was fair enough, but she had also treated the staff with contempt, which was not. She'd acted cruelly towards Simkins, whom she believed was far too familiar with Godric for someone of his station. That was unforgiveable. Simkins was like a favorite uncle, and anyone who treated him harshly suffered Godric's wrath.

Emily was nothing like Evangeline. She wasn't spoiled, which shouldn't have surprised him. He recalled too well the irritation Parr expressed at being stuck with his niece and the way Parr racked up debts, it seemed unlikely he would see to Emily's care and comfort first. Godric bristled at the thought that Parr had deprived Emily of anything.

I must be careful. She'll catch me in her enchanting web, and I'll never be free.

It was true. Godric had never felt the slightest inclination to care for a woman aside from his mother, and definitely not in the way he wanted to care for Emily. No . Buying pretty jewels and gowns for his mistress secured physical favors, not comfort and care for the lady. But with Emily, he already acted differently, being harsh with her was not proper behavior if he desired her complacency .

He wanted to make sure her chocolate was the right temperature. He wanted her to wear the finest silk gowns, sleep in the softest bed. He wanted her safe, warm, content.

Perhaps if she were happy, she'd come to him, let him introduce her to the passion she buried deep inside herself. He wanted to know her, possess her. All that fire flashing in her eyes when she thought he didn't see, needed to be unleashed.

I'm a bloody fool. I don't deserve such sweetness.

The black thought oozed inside his chest, pooling deep somewhere in the bottom of his heart. He hadn't realized he could feel pain there, but he felt it now.

"May I ride her?" Emily pointed to the gelding.

Godric fought off a smile. "You may ride him."

Emily blushed and hid her face in her hands. Cedric merely shook his head with silent mirth.

Women…they know so little.

The grooms pulled out the roan gelding for Emily. Godric and Cedric each saddled their own horses. He liked being self-sufficient, at least in a few ways. He had never asked for the pampered life of a duke and his grooms knew to let him see to the saddling of his own horse unless he requested otherwise.

Godric demonstrated saddling the gelding, and Emily watched with rapt attention.

"Watch closely, Miss Parr. The saddle faces this way. You must make sure that this girth, the belt of the saddle, is tight. Give it a good hearty tug, and don't worry about hurting the horse. You won't." His lower body jerked at the sight of her nibbling her lush bottom lip.

"How do I mount him?" The moment the words left her mouth, Godric saw himself mount Emily in bed… No! He mustn't let himself get carried away, but God, she made it so easy to lose his head.

"Here," he said, gruffly. He caught her by the waist and lifted her onto the saddle. "You must put one leg on each side, since I do not have a sidesaddle."

"Oh, yes, how silly of me." She straddled the horse, which required lifting her skirt out of the way as she settled into the saddle, revealing her bare legs. Rational thought plummeted from his brain to that annoyingly persistent spot below his waist. All he could wonder about was how she'd gotten sun on her legs. What could a young woman do so often that would require the lifting of her skirts? Godric bit back a groan.

"Um…Miss Parr, forgive my impertinence, but you lack certain undergarments." His eyes were on that smooth skin so close to his hands. Perhaps if he accidentally brushed against her leg, she wouldn't notice. Humor glinted in Emily's violet eyes, but then it was gone, masked behind that wide-eyed expression.

"Oh, I do apologize. My stockings were ruined last night."

Cedric laughed as he rode up beside them, openly admiring her legs to Godric's annoyance. "Never apologize to two bachelors for daring to show a fine pair of bare legs."

Godric shot his friend a scowl. One more comment like that, and Cedric would be in trouble.

The September sun was warm and the sky cloudless. The insects chirped, and the sound eased away the silence. It was a fine day for riding, for living. Away from the stuffy drawing rooms and evening engagements, Emily breathed again. She belonged here in the country with its green sloping hills and endless blue skies.

A light breeze tumbled along her skin and riding habit as the trio trotted along the edge of Godric's lands. Emily looked back and saw just how far they'd ridden. The manor was a stone dot in the distance. Godric caught her admiring the view, and she smiled.

"Your lands are extensive, my lord." She sighed at the enchanting sight of the English countryside.

"That's not the only thing that's extens—" Cedric began.

Godric smacked the butt of his riding crop on Cedric's horse's flank. The beast shot off at a mad gallop with Cedric shouting curses, leaving Emily wondering what he had been about to say.

Fifty feet ahead of them, Cedric slowed down and glowered childishly in their direction. He stayed a good ways ahead, leaving Emily and Godric alone.

"How long have you lived with your uncle, Miss Parr?"

"I…I don't think I would mind so much if you called me Emily, Your Grace. I dislike being called Miss Parr." It was improper, of course but with everything between them, propriety was the least of her worries .

"If you wish, Emily, but then I must insist you stop ‘Your Gracing' me." The sun paled against the bright shine of his eyes and Emily's heartbeat fluttered in response.

"I moved in with Uncle Albert a year ago, after my parents died."

"I heard they were deceased. May I ask how?" Godric guided his black gelding closer to her. Her mount playfully nipped at his horse's front flank.

"They were lost at sea. My father was headed to New York to see his shipping company there. My mother insisted on accompanying him." The pain of her parents' loss was deep, one she'd buried only a short time ago. "I had been staying with family friends when I received word. The next day my uncle came to collect me."

"What were their names?"

Emily's throat constricted. "Clara and Robert."

"And you have no other siblings?"

She shook her head. "None. My mother miscarried twice after me. They stopped trying after that. Too much pain." Why she was sharing such intimate details with a man she barely knew was beyond her.

Godric looked away from her. "My mother died in childbirth when I was a boy. The babe died with her."

There were no words that could ease the hurt of losing a loved one, especially a parent. One felt lost, with no chance of salvation. Nothing could replace the sheltering warmth and security of a parent. To be robbed of that was akin to losing one's innocence.

Godric spoke again. "You have not really grieved, have you? "

It was less a question and more an observation. How odd that talking to Godric about her tragedy should be so easy. He was a stranger, yet already few barriers stood between them.

"No, I haven't." They stopped their horses. She let her reins loosen in her fingers as her horse ducked his head to steal a bite of grass.

"I think that a part of me will never really accept that they're gone. It is as though I expect them to roll up in a carriage at Uncle Albert's any day now to take me home." Emily's voice wavered a little.

Godric's eyes darkened. Emily noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes. Out here, beneath the sun, without the pace of the day, he looked bone weary. "You must have loved your mother very much."

"I loved her the way I've never loved anyone else." He spoke so softly, it passed as more of a shared thought.

A desire flipped in Emily's heart. Before, she'd wanted to hurt him the way she'd been hurt by his cold, calculated kidnapping. But now…now she saw a man who life had wounded deeply and she wanted to erase the worries that creased his brow. It reminded her of an injured badger she and her father had found in the garden a few years before. It had broken its leg and when they'd tried to help it, it had bitten him, drawing blood. Godric was very much like that animal. Hurt and blindly striking out in his own defense.

"I imagine she loved you just as much."

"Thank you, Emily. I'm sure wherever they are, your family must be missing you just the same. "

He meant it. His sincerity manifested in the glimmer of his eyes and the lift of his lips into a grim smile. A man weighed down by countless sins, believed in heaven and an afterlife. For the briefest second she couldn't help but wonder perhaps if rogues could be redeemed?

Godric reached over the small space between them and slipped his hand around hers. Neither had bothered to wear riding gloves. His bare hand enveloped hers. The warmth of his hand, so much larger than her own, offered a comfort she didn't expect—a state of peace she recalled from evenings with her parents before the fire, settled on the floor as they laughed at the humor columns in the paper. Godric's thumb stroked the sensitive plane of her palm, yet the seemingly innocent contact teased her body with a desire for something she did not understand. With that simple truth, all thoughts of her uncle and her parents evaporated. His touch made her want to follow him to the ends of the earth to see where it might lead.

But she couldn't let him win this game by wooing her into submission with tender words and caresses. Emily couldn't afford to fall for this man. They were worlds apart. He was unlikely to marry for love and she wanted someone who could love as strongly as she did. She couldn't stay, couldn't take the risk of falling for him. Her parents would've wanted her to survive, and that required escaping the duke and finding someone to marry.

Emily studied the surrounding lands. A low stone wall, about five feet in height, rose from the ground a few hundred yards off .

"What is beyond that wall?" she asked casually.

"A pond and a meadow or two, beyond that the village of Blackbriar."

A village? The fool might as well have drawn her a map to escape.

Godric kept his attention on Cedric, who raced his horse back and forth in the field, stretching the horse's stride into a beautiful gallop.

Emily's hand was still locked firmly in Godric's grasp, complicating matters. Carefully, she extricated her hand from his, and he turned to see the reason she tugged free. Emily leaned forward to pat her horse's neck.

"He's a lovely creature." She threaded her fingers through the thick mane of her gelding. She didn't even have to look up to know that Godric smiled at her.

"Are you finding that you like horses?"

"Oh, yes. They are a bit frightening, but this one is ever so sweet." She resisted the urge to laugh. She'd never been scared of horses in her life—the occasional goat, maybe, when the awful things nipped at the hems of her skirts—but never horses. Godric was in for quite a surprise.

She raised her head as though to follow Cedric's progress across the field. She waited for the moment at which Cedric swung to the right, back toward the house.

She painted a look of shock and alarm on her face and pointed frantically in Cedric's direction.

"Godric, look out! Highwaymen!"

Godric tensed, bracing for trouble and reared his horse around.

Emily dug her heels into her horse's flanks and took off at a breakneck speed, straight for the wall, praying her horse could clear it. Blackbriar lay beyond the wall. She would seek help or hide until she found her way to London.

It took Godric several seconds to realize what had happened. Highwaymen, indeed.

Emily flew across the golden field, a warrior maiden at the apex of battle. Her lowered posture and natural control over the horse were evident. The girl was cleverer than he'd thought and he had been a fool by telling her about Blackbriar.

"Emily!" he roared.

She headed right for the wall and if she didn't stop, the horse would throw her. She'd land in the lake on the other side, break her neck or drown.

He dug his boots into his horse's sides, forcing it into action.

Moments later Godric was close on her heels, only twenty feet behind, his black gelding the fastest in the stables. He nearly shut his eyes as her horse reached the wall.

In one graceful arc, she cleared it, and a few seconds later, so did he.

Emily controlled her horse better than he expected, which had landed in perfect balance. She'd jerked her mount to the side, narrowly escaping a messy end in the shallows of the lake.

Godric was not so lucky. His horse panicked as its hooves landed in the soft muddy grass of the lake's edge, and it balked, sending him head first into the water.

Emily slowed her horse when she heard another shout, this time one of fear. She turned just in time to see Godric clear the fence but get thrown from his horse. His body hit the surface of the lake in a loud splash and sank out of sight. She held her breath, waiting for to him break the surface. Any moment he'd come up sputtering and humiliated.

Only he didn't.

A thread of fear moved through her, whispering with guilt for letting a man like him die. He couldn't die because of her reckless plan, he couldn't. She was beginning, just a little, to understand him and she didn't want his death on her conscience.

Emily cast a panicked look in the direction of Blackbriar, cursed under her breath and headed back to the lake. She refused to consider why—she owed Godric nothing.

She flung herself out of the saddle and plunged into the water nearest his entry. The lake was shallow near the edge but murky. She barely pinpointed the contours of Godric's white shirt. She wrapped her arms about his chest and kicked hard, propelling them to the surface. He sagged heavily against her, unconscious, but she kept kicking, never more thankful that she was a strong swimmer. When she reached the shore, she was sucking in air as she clawed her way up the muddy embankment with Godric in tow. Her riding habit weighted her down as though she were dragging a boulder in addition to Godric's body back to shore.

She rolled him onto his back and pressed her head against his chest. He wasn't breathing.

"Oh, God, please don't be dead." Blood roared in her ears. She could barely think as panic swept through her. She had to focus.

There was one thing she could try. She'd seen a servant do it once, to a boy who fell in a pond.

Lifting Godric's chin, she pinched his nose with one hand and cupped his chin with the other. Her mouth covered his as she breathed into him, praying it would revive him. She pulled back, waited a second, then tried again and again. The fourth time he stirred, and she nearly wept with relief. He was alive.

A hand caught her wet hair, and held her, keeping their lips locked together. Godric's other arm snagged her waist and dragged her on top of him. He kissed her deeply before he rolled over to pin her beneath him.

Emily balled her fists and beat at his chest as his firm but soft lips explored hers. The taste of him blacked out all awareness beyond the satin of his lips. It was heated, but tempered with a seductiveness she hadn't expected.

A moment of lucidity shocked her into awareness. She tried to kick out and free her legs and Godric pulled back a breathless moment.

"Easy, darling. I only wish to thank my rescuer." Godric abandoned words and kissed her ruthlessly. She couldn't let him do this. He couldn't…couldn't… Emily gasped against his mouth when his hand took hold of the underside of her right knee and caressed the bare skin of her thigh while he pushed his hips deeper into the cradle of hers. Shots of pleasurable pain danced up her legs. They needed to stop, yet she found herself wanting to experience the sensations his lips and hands were creating.

Waves of heat crested through her body, the power of it terrifying. Her body quaked as confusion warred with desire. She may not like the man, but his kisses, his caresses were starting to have an entirely wanton affect on her. The realization drew a tiny whimper from her and an answering growl of desire from the man on top.

The world winked out of existence, except for the rush of blood in her ears and their panting breaths. In. Out. In. Out. The symphony of sighs and gasps that danced between each breath in an endless waltz terrified her. The temptation to let go, to abandon herself and follow Eve's footsteps. One taste, a mighty fall, and she would be lost forever.

Godric's chest shook with silent laughter as he drank in her sweet taste—innocence like fine brandy, addictive and intoxicating. Joy heated his blood and warmed his heart. She'd come back for him, rescued him.

Her hands clenched his biceps, fingers digging into him the more he kissed her. By the time he'd lifted his head to gaze down at her, she was panting, and her hips rubbed instinctively against his own .

He was transfixed by the delicate blush of her cheeks, and the slightly upturned nose that created an impish charm.

Yet he sensed she feared him a little.

Emily had never been with a man, never been kissed until he'd captured her. A more practiced woman would have known what to do. He enjoyed the little instruction he'd given her. The temptation she presented was too much to resist. He moved one hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. Raw desire churned in the violet pools of her eyes, a hint of frustration added a shimmer that made him smile. She didn't like that she enjoyed kissing him.

He found her reaction to him fascinating. Other women would gaze at him with slumberous eyes, and leisurely return his kisses, or in Evangeline's case, bite him back. Emily's eyes were bright and full of wonder tinged with anger. There was an eagerness in her lips, a searching in her hands as she stroked his shoulders. It was as though she was determined to enjoy herself, even if she didn't like him. He liked the rebellious spirit in her. She was taking what she wanted from him. If she demanded he stop he would, even if it killed him. But until then he'd steal as many kisses as he could.

Godric wanted to spend days with her, explore her soft curves and find new ticklish spots. He wanted to bow down and worship at the altar of her sensual innocence. She was every bit the wanton, wild creature for which he'd spent years searching. He'd finally found her, and he would have her beneath him, atop him, against the wall, bent over the bed… Oh, the possibilities .

He hadn't known a woman could taste like this, feel like this. He felt like a damned villain, having faked his drowning, but he'd wanted to see if she would return. His friends could have found her in Blackbriar easily enough, none of the shopkeepers would keep her presence a secret from him had he been searching for her.

But she had come back. The second she'd dragged him from the lake, he'd wanted to kiss her more than he'd ever wanted to kiss any woman. Right on the muddy bank, soaking and cold. He would warm her with his passion and his gratitude. The wet skin of her thigh was smooth. The muscles there stretched against him as she tightened her leg. She had the legs of a rider. Lord, how he wanted those legs wrapped around him the same way.

Soon. He promised himself he would take her a thousand times, in every way, ride her until she couldn't walk, yet leave her begging for more.

Her touch, her taste, was all-consuming. The rhythm of her breaths and the feel of her curves cushioned him and then, through the haze of his desire, he heard Cedric's distant shout of concern.

It took every ounce of willpower to release Emily. She gazed up at him with dewy-eyed desire, surely stunned by the assault on her senses. She blinked slowly, as though still lost in the wake of a fading dream. Her lashes were long, and they curved up slightly at the ends, perfectly framing the most expressive eyes he'd ever seen.

For years now he'd only ever looked at a woman's eyes to see if they invited him to her bed and to tell if he was pleasing her. But this woman beneath him was different. Her eyes held a different invitation: to enter her heart and stay.

Like a boxer's uppercut, Godric flinched at the painful truth. Men like him didn't settle down, didn't care for women beyond the pleasures of the bed.

He was doing wrong by this young woman, ruining her body and her future. She'd expect him to marry her after, but he couldn't. Marriage was for fools who believed in love. He had even saved his friends from the folly of matrimony and now they were all enjoying bachelordom. Those in society married for political or financial gain, it was expected. But he refused to tie himself to a woman forever unless he cared about her. He was a hardened, jaded fool who avoided love. He knew how weak it made him.

Emily's bravery and quick wit were admirable, but she deserved a man who would be a worthy husband. He couldn't give her anything else but his body.

The strangest urge to justify his behavior had him stumbling for an excuse. "As I said, you saved my life, Emily. I simply wanted to show my thanks," he said, rather apologetically, as he lifted her to her feet.

She swayed slightly, and Godric threw an arm out to catch her around the waist. He tried not to look down at the lush breasts that jutted out against the thin wet fabric, or her hips, amply displayed by the wet riding habit molded to her body. Cedric rode up to the wall, staring at them both with a shocked expression.

"What happened, Godric? I heard shouting and then saw you go over." His friend's eyes drifted to Emily's body and heated in an expression Godric recognized all too well.

"Cedric, could you lend Emily your coat?" Godric's tone broke Cedric's improper attentions. The man tore off his coat and flung it over the wall where Godric caught it and wrapped it about Emily's shoulders.

"Wait here. I'll take our horses and jump them back over," Godric ordered. He knew by her wide-eyed look that she would obey.

Cedric trotted down the length of the wall to assist Godric, and when the two stood alone, he demanded to know what had happened.

"She distracted me and bolted for the wall. I didn't think she would clear it but she did—by God, she did—and better than I did. Bloody horse threw me right in the water."

"Are you all right? I lost sight of you both."

"I was fine. Poor Emily. She thought I'd drowned and was trying to bring me back to life with those sweet lips of hers." Godric laughed softly.

"You aren't going to tell her you are an excellent swimmer?"

"The water was shallow, she thought I'd been knocked senseless. Besides, I'd rather have her believe that she saved me. Otherwise, what I did to her afterwards will get me slapped."

"Oh, Godric, you didn't! That poor girl. She'll never save your worthless hide again. Tell me you didn't take it too far."

"A few harmless kisses… Maybe a few not-so-harmless caresses," he admitted. But he had no regrets. He co uld never regret each kiss, each second that Emily's touch reawakened the ghost of the man he used to be.

He used to treasure kisses, count them like a young man, waiting breathlessly to see again the woman who'd inspired such romantic notions in him. His first love, a miller's daughter from Blackbriar, Annabelle, had taught him how to savor kisses. She'd seduced him, introduced him to the world of sensual delights, but she'd done it slowly, the chase and challenge perfect. Since then, anything rushed hadn't been worth it.

He wanted that with Emily, the patient chase, the steady pursuit. Each kiss he'd take from her willing lips would be a sweet victory. Love seemed but a thin veil away from him now, instead of locked away inside himself as he'd always believed.

Emily leaned against the stone wall, shivering as the light breeze chilled her wet skin.

She shivered for other reasons too. When Godric had put his hands on her, his mouth on hers, his body on hers, she had lost herself. For a brief few moments she'd forgotten how angry she was and how worried she was about rescuing her crumbling life.

There was more to his embrace and kiss than the tender affection she'd witnessed between her parents. No, this was a bonfire, a blaze that drew her in to burn her to ashes. When he kissed her, they were man and woman, not lord and lady.

This dangerous game of escape and chase had awakened her most primal instincts of survival. If Cedric hadn't shown up, Godric might have taken her, there on the grassy embankment. The thought made her blush.

The men returned with the horses, and she masked her emotions with the expression of innocence she'd mastered during life with her uncle.

The thought stopped her cold.

What had her uncle done upon discovering her missing? Had he thanked the heavens, or run to Bow Street in panic? Emily couldn't picture either option.

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to admit how much she'd suffered the past year, but she had, as life with a disinterested uncle hurt terribly. No one deserved to live with family who didn't love or care about them.

Emily rushed to rid herself of her tears as the men drew up on the opposite side of the wall. Godric stretched out both hands to her, and she clasped them, surprised at the ease with which he pulled her up over the wall and onto his lap.

"Here, let me get over to my—" She reached for her horse, but Godric's grip tightened around her waist.

"If you think I'm letting you back on any horse by yourself after your little adventure, you're mistaken."

"But…"

Godric's iron grip kept her firmly on his lap as he urged his horse onward.

"I think it's time we set some ground rules for your future escape attempts. Everything you try and fail will be removed as a privilege, ergo no more horseback riding and no escapes after dark. Too dangerous for you." His condescending tone made her feel like a misbehaving child. Why didn't I just let him drown?

"Godric." She squirmed irritably against his chest as they headed for the manor. "I will walk if I must, thank you. There is no need for this." The hand that held her waist slid lower to sharply pinch her bottom. She froze, her eyes lit with fire.

"Ow!"

"You nearly got my bloody neck broken, and I almost drowned."

" You didn't have to chase me," Emily shot back.

"If I want to spank you clear until next Sunday, I'll do it and not a man here will raise a hand to spare you," Godric growled.

Emily surrendered to silence after that. She'd never been prone to pout or sulk, but today was as good a day as any to start.

She continued to pout in royal fashion until the horses reached the front steps of the manor. Godric seemed oblivious to the dark scowl she aimed his way. He merely reached up to drag her off the horse and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He stifled a laugh at her squeak of surprise.

The remainder of Godric's barbaric treatment she took with a queenly silence, even when the laughter and jeers of the others threatened to shame her a hundredfold over.

"What the deuce happened, Godric? You're both wet!" Lucien's voice rang out.

"Emily made another attempt to flee. "

Lucien scowled and fished out a sovereign from his pocket, handing it to Charles.

"Well played, Miss Parr, you're easier to bet on than the races." Charles bowed as he pocketed the coin. "If you could arrange for another escape after supper, I'd be most grateful."

Emily opened her mouth to respond but Godric patted her bottom twice, his hand lingering too long. She kicked out, but it didn't dislodge that offending hand.

"She's not going to oblige you, not after she nearly drowned me."

"Ooh, let me guess—she tried to swim to France?" Smug speculation peppered Charles's voice.

"Don't give her any ideas, Charles." Godric kept walking. The others' steps joined his.

Emily was tired of watching the parade of boots upside down. She put her hands on Godric's back and tried to push up a little. Ashton and Charles strutted directly behind her, both smirking. Charles's eyes lingered on the wet clothes around her breasts.

Charles laughed at the fiery glare she sent him. "Tell us, Emily. What was your plan this time?"

The sudden urge to sock the golden-haired earl on the jaw flamed inside her. So she did—a loose swing of her fist, an easy duck by Charles, followed by more laughter at her expense.

"Don't rile her. The dear girl was brave enough to jump the bloody wall." Cedric spoke from ahead of Godric.

"You're joking! The last time I tried that jump, I fell into the lake." Charles's tone softened with admiration. Emily refused to let that sway her. She'd get her revenge on the earl for his leering.

"That's exactly what happened to me, but not our dear Emily. Oh no, she only bothered to come back and save me when I fell in and nearly drowned."

"But you're a go—" Charles began before someone stomped down on his foot and he cried out in pain.

What? Curiosity broke through Emily's mood. If she had to hazard a guess it seemed like Charles had been about to say Godric was a good swimmer. If that was true… She balled a fist and struck Godric's bottom. He rewarded her with a flinch and then he smacked her own bottom in response. Emily wanted to crack each and every one of their heads together. Her wounded pride almost crippled her ability to manage and hide her emotions. She didn't like the others to laugh at her, not when she fought for her freedom.

Ashton smiled at her. "Emily, I commend you on your courage. Were it not for my loyalty to Godric, I would wish you luck on your future escape attempts. May they be as cunning as your previous ones."

No hint of mockery reflected in his tone—rather, a soft-hearted kindness exuded his words. It doesn't matter. He's one of them. None of them can be trusted .

"And for the sake of my purse, perhaps it could be before supper rather than after," Lucien added, as if proving her point.

Godric proceeded into one of the many rooms on the ground level and slid her off his shoulder into a large armchair. She clung to Cedric's overcoat to shield her damp body from so many male gazes. It intimidated her to have them all ring around her chair, staring down from their formidable heights. She slunk down an inch or two, then tucked her knees up under her chin and turned her face away. Her wet clothes left her clammy and uncomfortable.

"Don't sulk, Emily." Ashton stroked her damp hair back from her face. "You are far too pretty for that."

Humiliation clawed through her, tearing her confidence to shreds. What did she think escaping would have accomplished? Returning to London now would not have fixed anything. Only the desperation to do something, anything to regain control of her situation, drove her to it.

She flattened against the back of the chair, eyeing Godric. He'd promised she would be safe. But trusting him was hard when he merely stood there, watching her with hooded eyes that seemed to transform into a different shade of green each time his mood changed. Reluctantly, she admitted that little fact about him intrigued her.

"We did warn you that these escapes were futile. Don't be angry at us for being proved right." Godric rotated her chair so that it faced the fireplace. The others left him alone with her as they took seats at a table on the opposite side of the room.

"I had escaped. You tricked me into returning." Emily glowered at him.

"There. Now, warm yourself up. I will notify Mrs. Downing you'll need a fresh change of clothes laid out." He reached over the back of her chair and rubbed her arms up and down, warming her up a little. This touch was different from the others he'd given. It entailed no heady rush of desire, nor did it infuriate or frighten her. He was simply offering her warmth and security in a single unobtrusive touch.

It was the sort of act a good husband would do, give of himself until his wife was well cared for. Emily shut her eyes, unable to fight the daydream of marriage to Godric. Yet as she reached for that kaleidoscope of light that manifested in her mind, reality shattered it. Marriage to him would be a disaster. He was so hot one minute and cold the next, his mood swings gave her a headache and he was far too arrogant. She couldn't marry a man who thought of himself so highly, it was not an irritation easily borne.

Emily relaxed and sank deeper into the chair, trying to control her shivers. Glass tinkling, and the splash of liquid, caught her attention. Godric had his back to her as he prepared a drink. Exhausted, Emily put up little resistance when he returned to her and held the glass to her lips.

"Drink this."

"What is it?" she mumbled around the rim of the glass.

"Just a bit of brandy. It will warm your insides."

Emily looked up at him through her dark lashes, seeking any sign that he meant her harm. But she could not navigate the fathomless depths of his eyes.

"Come on, darling. Drink it for me," he encouraged as he bent low over her chair. His knuckles stroked her cheek, pushing back a wet wayward strand of hair .

Emily drank, sputtered in shock at the sudden burning in her throat, and downed the rest of the glass with a gasp. Godric patted her back lightly as she choked down a cough.

"Good heavens, is this what brandy tastes like?" She'd never tried it before and found it far too bitter. She gagged and wrinkled her nose as she thought, groggily that it had an all too familiar aftertaste.

"There's a good girl." He bent and brushed his lips on her forehead.

Emily sighed heavily. Lethargy crept along her limbs as Godric joined the other men at the table. Lucien spoke about their various friends back in London. The warmth of the fire and Cedric's coat around her made her relax. Her eyelids wavered then fell. She hoped she wouldn't dream of Godric, but she knew she would when soft lips brushed her forehead again and sleep claimed her.