Theo placed a hand on his arm. She must have sensed his unease. “There is nothing to worry about. Emma is well guarded and protected here tonight.”
Her comment further rattled his nerves. Once they were abroad with only a small contingent of Network members, who would assist him in ensuring Emma’s safety? The New World was reputed to be wild and dangerous. Damnation. Unlike Landon, he often hastily agreed to matters. But this wasn’t a matter of haste; he wanted Emma, and he was confident she was the woman for him.
Christopher rolled slightly onto the balls of his feet to gain a few more inches over the sea of coiffeurs. “Still, I won’t be sure until I have her within sight at the very least.”
“Go find her…you are worse than Landon.” Theo turned him by the arm and gave him a slight shove in the direction of the gardens.
Emma wouldn’t have risked leaving the crowd without an escort. Except the glimpse of a red gown out on the terrace proved Theo was right. The woman disappeared down the stairs that led to the darkened gardens. Emma had mentioned something about assisting Hereford.
Marching towards the exit, Christopher halted mid-stride when Hereford appeared at his side.
Eyebrows furrowed, Hereford asked, “Have you seen Emma or Arabelle?” The man was impeccably dressed, but his whole countenance radiated agitation.
“No. I’ve not seen either of them.” Christopher grasped Hereford’s upper arm, attempting to sidestep, but they both moved in the same direction.
“Grr. Those two are going to be the death of me.” Hereford looked over Christopher’s shoulder and searched the crowd. “They wandered off together. Lord knows what the pair are up to.”
Facing the terrace doors, Christopher said, “I’ll search the gardens. You continue the search indoors.”
Hereford nodded and headed, grumbling, into the throng of guests.
Slipping through the doors into the brisk night air, Christopher made his way to the set of stairs the woman in red had taken. At the bottom, he followed his instincts and searched the hedges. A sliver of shimmering mint-green silk caught his attention. Moving as stealthily as he could along the pebbled path, Christopher held his breath.
A small hand reached out, and fingers dug into his upper arm. His assailant tugged him into the prickly shrubbery. He wrapped his fingers about the cold, gloved hand that covered his mouth.
“Ow.”
He released his fiancée and swiveled to face her. “Emma! What the devil?”
“Shh!” Emma's eyes slid to a couple a few feet away.
A woman in a daring ruby silk gown smiled down at a gentleman on one knee. Their features were too shadowed to identify.
Christopher reached for Emma’s hand and pressed his lips against her wrist. Damn the material that created a barrier between them. Emma withdrew her hand and frowned up at him. Momentarily distracted by the blaze within his beautiful fiancée’s eyes, Christopher brushed his mouth over her lips. Emma opened for him and returned his kisses. He tried to draw her closer, but she pushed against his chest. “Ye stop that, or we’ll not be returning to the ball.”
He turned Emma by the shoulders to face the couple. “Is that Arabelle and Markinson?”
“Aye. And ye need not interfere.” She looked over her shoulder and added, “Markinson jus’ needed time and for everyone to stop pokin’ about his business. Men can be contrary, ye know. The more ye push them one way, the more likely they’ll run the other. Now, shh. Let’s see how Arabelle handles him.”
“With care, I hope.”
Emma giggled. “He’s no pansy. He’ll do fine.”
Markinson pulled his hand from his pocket, extending a rather large diamond that glittered in the moonlight. Except Arabelle had both hands firmly clasped behind her back and shook her head. The droop of the man’s shoulders meant only one thing. Arabelle had refused. What game was Arabelle playing? This is what she had wished for, for over a year. Christopher’s hands left Emma’s shoulders, and he shifted forward.
Emma hauled him back before he revealed them both. In a harsh whisper, Emma asked, “Wot are ye doin’?”
“I’m going to put an end to this nonsense.”
She tilted her head, exposing her tantalizing neck. Christopher froze. Emma said, “Weren’t ye the one goin’ on about how everyone should have the ability to choose their own future?”
“I was referring to the members of the Network…not the rake about to ruin a family member.”
Emma placed a chaste kiss upon his cheek. “I love ye for being protective over me niece, but if ye go bargin’ through the gardens, Markinson will have no choice. And Arabelle will forever believe he married her only to prevent a scandal or some such nonsense.” With a sigh, Emma continued, “We need to give them the time and space to sort it all out. Now, keep a lookout for one of these nosy matrons of the ton I hear about.”
Her kiss subdued his anger. Christopher listened to the wisdom of his soon-to-be wife and settled his hands about her waist. While Emma focused on the couple who stood entranced with each other, ignorant of the world about them, Christopher’s attention was drawn to the delightful heart-shaped décolleté of Emma’s gown.
He leaned down to nibble on his sweet fiancée’s delectable little earlobe, but her pointy elbow hit him against the ribs. “Ouch.” He straightened and rubbed the spot that Emma had injured.
The moon illuminated Arabelle, who was presently engulfed in Markinson’s arms. The couple appeared to be guaranteeing their engagement with an energetic kiss.
“Wot are ye waiting for?” Emma asked, glaring up at him.
“You said not to meddle.”
“Don’t be daft. Ye can’t let him muss up her hair.” She turned and stepped closer, placing her hand flat over his heart. “Bring her back here, so I can escort her back to her brother and we can leave.”
She slid her hand up and threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. He bent slightly, and the minx darted her tongue out to trace his bottom lip. Heat radiated through him. She boldly kissed him and mussed up his hair. Heart pounding in his ears, he released her lips but held her close. She grounded him. Emma winked, spun him around, and with a slight shove, she sent him spiraling towards Markinson.
He naturally detested being ordered about, but he didn’t mind the idea of Emma bossing him about so long as he was granted boons like that last kiss. Walking with purpose, Christopher approached the couple, ready to be done with the evening. The sooner he had Emma alone, the better.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two weeks after the ball, Emma was more frustrated than satisfied with her engagement to Christopher. Sneaking about and arranging clandestine meetings wore on Emma’s patience, yet it brought to light how exhilarating her future would be with Christopher. Leaning back against the solid wood door of his chambers, Emma waited for the pounding of her heart to slow.
Each night, her skills in going about undetected were challenged. She suspected the Network was aware of their nightly escapades. The change of guard times had altered at least twice a week for the past fortnight. She wasn’t sure if the variation in times had been due to her unsanctioned activities with Christopher or the shifting of personnel. Christopher had quickly and meticulously gained the consent of every Network member on the list, allowing Landon and the Network elders to work together to reestablish a new sense of order. Her mum had shared that others had heard of Christopher’s offers and were intrigued at the prospect of a new life abroad. Many had approached the council seeking approval to join the ranks of those to make the six-week journey across the sea. When members had been asked why they wished to relocate, all had stated they wished to give their support to Christopher, who would officially become a PORF tomorrow. A burst of pride invaded her heart—she couldn’t wait to wed the man who was destined to be a great PORF. Her stomach cramped. She needed to discuss the details of what was to occur after their wedding ceremony tomorrow.
Squinting towards the bed, Emma whis
pered, “Christopher.” Where was her bloomin’ husband-to-be? With no moonlight, the room was darker than a cave. The door pushed against her, sending her stumbling forward.
“Sorry, love.” Christopher, still on the other side of the door, whispered, “I brought us a late-night snack. I heard you skipped supper again.”
She opened the door wider to allow Christopher in. “Ye didn’t hear any such nonsense.”
“Have you eaten?” The clatter of silverware against wood told Emma he was next to her.
“Nay. But no one told ye I hadn’t, ye’re jus’ guessin’.” She planted her hands on her hips, hoping she wouldn’t topple over the tray that was most likely piled high with breads and sweets.
His warm breath brushed her check. “Come along before I get distracted.”
She followed his soft footsteps and froze when he stopped. Waiting for Christopher to deposit the tray upon the bed, Emma counted out the four steps to the right that should place her in front of the window to draw back the thick double-layered curtain that kept the cold out. The dim rays of moonlight filtered through the gap and Emma turned to see the extravagant spread of food upon the bed.
“Did ye bring up the whole larder?”
Christopher chuckled. “I like to be prepared.” He patted the space next to him.
She raised a knee to crawl up onto the luxurious bed that she had quickly become accustomed to sleeping in. Although she hardly slept. Most nights, by the time they finished detailing their long days combined with Christopher’s love making, they had only a few hours until sunrise. Carefully balancing her weight so as not to topple any of the food about, she settled upon the mattress. Instead of sitting opposite her, Christopher slid in behind her and began his nightly ritual of kneading away the knots in her shoulders.
All the stress of creeping about was worth the bliss of Christopher’s magical touch. His clever fingers and clever banter made her relax even when they discussed Network matters. Each night she’d wanted to broach the topic of the possibility of them never seeing family again. But fear of the answer kept her silent.
“Pet. Are you ready to tell me what has you in knots each eve?” His thumb grazed down her neck. “I work tirelessly each night to ease them, but if you do not share with me the cause, how am I to help prevent them?”
On a strangled breath she finally asked, “Will we see our families again?”
“That is my hope.” His voice was filled with as much worry and pain as she felt having asked the question.
“I shall miss Sunday dinner with the Cadbys and Wednesday dinners with me own family.” She twisted to face him and blinked back tears. “Today yer mama paid me a visit. She asked me to call her Mama…” The request had pierced her heart, since from the day they met, Aunt Henri had been like a second mum. Emma paused to swallow the large lump that choked her words. “I understand the need to support Lord Burke but…” She turned away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
He pressed a soft kiss upon her shoulder. “Not only Lord Burke, but also you and I as we too will be PORFs after tomorrow. Some, not all, of the Network contingent have expressed specifically that they wish to serve us. If we return, they too will return. Likewise, if we decide to stay, they will too.”
Emma leaned back against Christopher’s solid chest as he wrapped his arms securely about her waist. She let her weary head fall back to rest. “Me brain is ready to become a PORF, but me heart…”
“I share your worries, my love.” He didn’t try to distract her with kisses but gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve always had the wise counsel of my mama and Landon. I fear I shall fail without them. To oversee such a large number of Network members who have chosen to place their lives, trust their futures—”
Emma interrupted, “To you. They believe in ye like I do. Ye’re strong, intelligent, and ye rule with a fair hand. A man worthy of following.”
“I love you, Emma Lennox, for saying so, but I’m certain they have pledged their loyalty to us due to their faith in you.” Cheek to cheek with Emma, he continued, “It’s my hope to strengthen existing bonds and forge new ones. And as for family…well, there is the possibility we have already begun to increase the size of our own family.” He rubbed her tummy. “And if we haven’t, I’m willing to…”
As his words comforted her and eased some of her worry, she wanted to express how much she loved and needed him. She shifted to straddle him so she could speak face-to-face. “Luv, it would be an honor to carry yer babe.” She plastered herself to him, kissing him until he rolled back and they were tangled amongst the covers. Her back bumped the tray. It was likely he hadn’t eaten supper either. She extracted herself from his arms. Scooting back, she placed the tray between them. “I need to eat if I’m to keep up with ye tonight.”
* * *
Christopher eyed the elderberry tart. Ever since his papa had advised the raw berries were potentially lethal, he never dared risk eating the fruit even when cooked. But they were Emma’s favorite and he trusted Cook wouldn’t dare poison her. Still, he was wary as she raised the treat to her mouth. Forcing himself not to knock it from her hands, he busied himself placing a slice of cheese upon some bread.
The tip of Emma’s tongue ran over her bottom lip, sweeping small crumbs into her mouth. He cleared his throat and said, “Do you have any concerns regarding our upcoming nuptials?”
She popped the rest of the tart in her mouth and moved to place the tray on the floor. Standing before him, she grinned and turned. He worked on releasing the row of buttons and untying the ribbons of her stays. The minx wiggled and let her dress drop to the floor. Naked, she slowly turned about and crawled back onto the bed, but instead of in front of him like before, she seated herself behind him. Her warm hands at his waist pulled his shirt loose and then over his head. The white material flew over his head and the garment landed on the edge of the bed. Emma began to rub the knots from his shoulders, but while her touch was intended to soothe, it only provoked his muscles to tense in anticipation of having her.
Emma’s hands stilled. “Where will ye ask Cadby to place the mark?”
“Hmm…I’ve not yet decided. You?”
She wrapped her leg about his waist and lifted her foot. “Me ankle, like yer cousin Theo.”
He grabbed her foot and began to rub the sole. Emma released a moan that had his cock twitching in his breeches. As her hands skimmed over his shoulder, he lifted his hand to trap hers. “Do you have a suggestion or are you simply trying to distract me?”
“I’m sharin’ me worries as ye’ve asked. I’ve heard how much it bloody hurts to receive the mark.” Emma tugged her hand free and began to massage his neck and then rubbed his aching temples. In a short span of a fortnight, the woman had discovered all the spots he stored his stress.
“I can’t believe I’ll be a bloomin’ PORF—me. I know how to aid and protect PORFs, but to be one…well, ye’re gonna have to be patient with me.”
Christopher chuckled. “You have more knowledge than I.” Her breasts pushed up against his back as she stiffened.
“But it’s in yer blood. It’s yer fate as a Hadfield.” Emma guided him to face her. “Have ye spoken with Lady Mary of late?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“She came to pick up an order today. And she was mumbling to another—mind you I couldn’t see anyone else about—stating her belief that one was not solely bound by fate. That we all get to choose our mate in life. Whoever she was talking to disagreed.”
“What do you believe?”
She wrapped her arms around him at the waist. “I’ve always considered Lady Mary an odd duck, but a kind one. But I agree with the lady. I chose you.”
“And I’m exceptionally fortunate that you did.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “However, I distinctly recall the bizarre feeling that struck me, all the way through to my soul, the day you rushed past me on my brother’s stairs. It was as if I’d only been existing and not living. After tha
t moment, I was consumed by thoughts of you. I wanted you like no one else before. I have wondered why I had not met you before. Why now? Regardless, I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m excited for our future.”
Her hand lowered and his body immediately reacted to her touch. Oh, the woman definitely got him excited.
“What are ye most looking forward to?” She released the buttons of his falls and his cock sprang free. With a wicked grin, she wrapped her hand firmly about him and began to slowly stroke him from tip to base, her movements producing a small bead of liquid at the tip.
“Spending every day and eve with you.” He pushed down his breeches until he was free of them. He spun around to face Emma. “Are you ready to marry me, Miss Emma Lennox?”
“Aye, but I might want ye to show me once more how ye plan to occupy me days and nights.”
“As you wish. Lie on your stomach for me.”
Without argument, she lay out flat. He placed his hands on her plump bottom. Oh how he loved the feel of the soft mounds in his hands. Giving each cheek a quick squeeze, he straddled her and settled his manhood to rest at her wet entrance. Leaning forward, he ran his hands over her bottom and then up her back. He trailed his fingertips along her sides until they touched her breasts and slowly kneaded his way back down. Emma released a moan of pleasure. He loved the way her body reacted to his touch. Repeating the motions, he slid forward slightly, his cock pressing closer to her core. He needed to bury himself inside her.
“Love, lift up onto your elbows for me.” He guided her hips up and she rose to her knees. He entered her slowly. Tight from his impatience, he circled his hips, urging her inner muscles to loosen.
Emma’s forehead dropped to the bed, the motion forcing him deeper. He wanted to go slow, but his body and Emma were not cooperating. The woman challenged his every movement. The slower he moved, the faster and more demanding she became. He wanted to wait to find his release, but the sensations mounted with each thrust. Emma’s sighs of pleasure turned into deep moans of ecstasy. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her to him, hard and deep. His release pulsed throughout his body, leaving him lightheaded and winded. He collapsed to the bed. His muscles flexed as her hand skimmed his skin that was covered in a light sheen of sweat.
Tempting a Gentleman Page 18
