Jane looked up. "Wordsworth? You were reading it yesterday, on your morning stroll, were you not? Perhaps you left it in your bedchambers."
"Well, I did have it yesterday, but somehow I misplaced it." Emily gazed out the window, her brows furrowing into a stern "V." For there was Nigel romping about the grounds with her book in his mouth. The knave!
"What do you see?" Jane asked, rising from her place beside the hearth, starting to move toward the window.
"Oh, nothing," Emily said, waving her hand and laughing. "So silly of me. I just remembered I must have left it on my nightstand after all."
She hated to lie to Jane, but her pride was about all she had left at the moment, especially since Nigel had just disappeared from view like the thief that he was.
"Are you certain?" Jane asked, taking her seat. "Perhaps if you asked one of the servants to check for you."
"No, no, no. It must be there. I'm just a silly widgeon this morning, Jane. You know how I am when I miss my morning walk."
Jane lifted a delicate brow in Emily's direction. "Dearest, you must not exert yourself after yesterday."
"Ah, there you are girls." Agatha's voice bounced off the walls as she strode into the room, her parasol close to her side. "La, this is to be a grand day. There's a fair in the village, and we are all going to join in the festivities. What say you to that?"
Jane smiled, dropping her needlepoint. "A fair?"
"Yes, and we are all going to make a day of it. There will be jugglers, musicians, flame throwers. Bakers and their wares. And, oh, those meat pies are simply my favorite!"
Agatha paused and turned a concerned gaze upon Emily. "If you are still feeling under the weather, my dear, I certainly would understand. Indeed, I thought you would still be abed. You missed breakfast. And just the thought of you lost in that nasty maze makes me cringe." Tears filled the older woman's eyes. "I declare, I should have done away with it years ago. Forgive me, child."
"Oh, no," Emily said. "It was an enlightening experience, Agatha. I am quite fine."
The older lady squeezed Emily's shoulders in an affectionate hug. "I am so grateful that dear Nigel was here to find you. He is the most magnificent of God's creatures, is he not?"
"Magnificent." Emily forced a smile on her lips. Magnificent fraud!
At that moment Nigel peeked into the room, then disappeared into the hall. Drat that dog!
"Emily," Jane said, twirling around. "A fair! Goodness, I have not attended one since I was ten."
Emily smiled, but her thoughts were on her book. She decided that staying home would be best.
"I heard my nephew was a bit harsh yesterday," Agatha said, "and I apologize. He was not always that way."
"But he has much to do with his tenants, Aunt Agatha," Jane said lovingly. "He is quite busy with his new earldom, you know."
Emily was saved from making a reply when Agatha answered. "And he will be busy escorting us to the fair later this afternoon as well."
Escorting them? Emily was suddenly anxious to avoid the earl at all costs. "Perhaps I should stay home. I fear yesterday did take a toll on me, and I would not want to ruin your day if I came along."
Jane frowned, her blue eyes shadowed with sympathy. "Then you must rest, dearest, if you need to, but we won't enjoy the fair knowing you will be at home."
Agatha sighed. "Indeed, we will not. No, we will stay home with you, Emily."
"Yes," Jane said. "We will stay here."
Emily cringed at the sacrifice they were making for her, and she could not let Jane miss out on something that would give her friend such happiness. "Perhaps the fresh air will do me some good after all," she said, smiling.
But she promised herself that before she departed for the village, she would retrieve that book from Nigel and put it in a safe place before it fell into Jared's hands.
Jane's blue eyes sparkled like that of a child's on Christmas morning. "Are you quite certain?"
Emily nodded, knowing that there was no way of avoiding the earl while she resided at Hemmingly, but she could make an effort to distance herself from him. It was only the carriage ride that might cause her undue embarrassment, being so close to the man, but she was determined to show him that he meant nothing to her anymore. Nothing at all.
Agatha took a seat on the sofa. "There, that is settled, and Jared will escort us to the fair."
"I will do what?"
Emily stiffened when Lord Stonebridge stepped into the room. His brown riding coat and fawn-colored breeches molded to his athletic frame, making her all too aware of his commanding presence—a presence that would not be easy to ignore.
Dark amber eyes took a swift accounting of her person, and Emily's face tingled with heat. Her vulnerability to this man vexed her to no end.
Agatha raised her parasol, obviously missing the encounter. "Jared, you are a delightfully obedient boy coming so soon after I called for you." She took in his riding boots and gloves and shook her head. "You won't have much time to ride, but do as you wish, only I believe I have changed my mind, we will be leaving for the fair in one hour. And pray, do not keep us waiting."
One wretched hour!
It was not enough time. After Emily changed her clothes for the fair, she realized she had barely ten minutes at most to retrieve her book before Jared returned from riding, and she knew exactly where that book was, too. In Jared's bedchamber—with the devious Nigel. The hateful creature had padded past her only a minute ago, easing his way past Jared's open door, which had obviously been left ajar after the morning cleaning.
Taking a deep breath, Emily scurried into the hall like a thief in the night, her pale yellow gown flapping against her legs. She bit her lips and gave a swift glance up and down the corridor. The scent of fresh lemon wove through the air as she rapped her knuckles lightly against Jared's bedchamber door. Her heart thudded against her chest.
No answer. Thank heaven.
She slid into the room and carefully closed the door behind her. Pressing her back against the wall, she held her breath, her gaze traveling to the small fire that burned in the hearth. After a few wary seconds, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Now, where was that wretched beast?
Jared sat on the window seat at the far end of his bedchambers, half-hidden behind folds of the light blue curtains that draped across the panes of glass behind him. He rubbed a hand across Nigel's back while the dog curled up in a lump beside him.
With one boot raised against a footstool, Jared balanced the little black book of Wordsworth's poems Nigel had been slopping in his mouth but a minute ago. Jared intended to return the book to Emily, but found himself thumbing over the well-worn pages, recalling his blissful days in Hyde Park and his dances at Almack's with the raven-haired beauty by his side.
But that innocent girl he had loved so long ago had changed into a stubborn, independent woman who could lure any man into her web of desire with a mere flash of those violet-blue eyes. This Lady Emily who veiled herself with a will as strong as iron and a tongue as sharp as a knife was even more tempting than the one he had known before. Still, he could have wrung her slender white neck for trekking into that maze without a guide, especially in such inclement weather.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool windowpane. He wanted Emily more than he had ever wanted a woman in his life, and yet he could never have her. Now they were two totally different people with a past too painful to forget. Their love had died an agonizing death three years ago and so had their future.
"Blast it, Nigel, what the devil am I going to do?"
The next moment there was a scratch upon his door. Before Jared could respond, the door creaked open. Nigel lifted his head and wagged his tail.
Must be the maid, Jared thought, resting back against the window, wondering how long it would take Roderick to find a decent husband for Emily. The notion of another man touching her made his blood run cold. But he had no right to her now. Honor demanded he guard her, a
nd she hated him anyway. Too much time had passed. Too much had happened. Love was not for him. There was no going back. Besides, he was close to announcing his engagement. He could not hurt Emily again.
Soft footsteps treaded lightly across the floor, and Jared flinched when Nigel jumped from the ledge, obviously curious about the maid.
"Oh, Nigel, it's you. I wondered where you had gone, you silly dog."
Jared blinked in awe. What the blazes was Emily doing in his bedchambers?
"Now, Nigel, dearest, you must be very quiet for Emily. Can you do that, sweeting?"
Sweeting? No one ever called his dog sweeting and lived to tell about it, and why the blazes was Nigel not barking at the intruder, though lovely she may be?
"I need to look through a few things here, Nigel. Of course, if you could possibly see to helping me, I would consider it a wondrous favor. And don't look at me like some angel from heaven, you know exactly what I'm talking about."
Jared froze, afraid to breathe. Why his dog would allow some simpering miss to rummage through his chambers like a French spy was beyond him. The very idea of Nigel turning traitor rattled his senses.
"I cannot seem to find it anywhere, Nigel. Aha. Did you put it under the bed?"
What was she about now?
Jared dared to glimpse from behind the curtain, swallowing the amusement that bubbled up in his throat when he saw two dainty slippers peeking beneath his Tudor-style bed. What was she doing under there? Even Nigel had joined the lady in the precarious position.
Jared smiled as Nigel's tail wagged against Lady Emily's gown. The rustling of yellow muslin and dog fur sent the bed frame shaking as if it were a ship sailing on the high seas.
"Oh, I beg you, Nigel, do have a care. I have but a few minutes to find it. Where is that dratted book? Come now, sweeting, show Emily where it is."
Realization finally dawned. So, the little spitfire came back for her book, did she? Smiling devilishly, Jared settled the book on the window seat and narrowed his gaze on two slender legs wiggling up and down like a scissors beneath his bed.
How long Jared sat there watching the maddening scene was anyone's guess, but what he did know was the way his blood surged through his veins. His head pounded like thunder. His hands clenched at his sides. All five senses went into alert mode. Emily was too comely by far to be caught beneath his bed. And confound the woman, he wanted her! If Roderick could pick his brain now, the duke would kill him.
Nigel snarled and padded his paws against the lady's gown.
Jared's lips parted in amusement at Emily's tenacity to continue to battle with his dog while she was still trapped beneath the bed.
"Nigel, please!"
At that moment Jared envied Nigel. Lucky chap.
Jared's eyes trailed up a well-turned calf, and a shudder passed through him. Devil take it! He needed Emily out of there before he went mad or did something he would regret.
Without another thought, he bounded off his seat, threw the book onto his bed, grabbed hold of two tiny feet, and pulled.
"Whatever could be keeping Emily and Jared?" Agatha asked, turning to Jane. "Filmore mentioned that Jared returned from his ride a half hour ago."
Jane, dressed in a smart peach gown, grabbed her matching reticule from the sofa. "Strange, and Emily is always on time. For both of them to be late . . ." Her lips puckered.
"Both of them late, indeed." The older lady pulled on her white gloves and poked her head outside the drawing room doors, glancing up the stairs.
Jane's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Mercy. Do you dare think—"
"Fustian, child!" Agatha shook her head and grabbed her parasol as she walked briskly toward the stairs. "How could you even think such a thing, my dear. And when the duchess comes to visit, you must keep thoughts like that to yourself."
"Emily's mother is coming here?"
"Yes, I received a letter from her the same day Emily arrived. She wishes to surprise the girl. I imagine she will show herself in a few days. So, mind your tongue."
Jane picked up her skirts and followed, her delicate brows raised in an impish grin. "I only thought that Emily and Cousin Jared . . . well, goodness knows, anything's possible."
"At this point, the duchess does not need to hear something like that, Jane. Put those thoughts right out of your mind. Besides, our distinguished Lord Stonebridge is practically engaged to a Miss Susan Wimble, and that is that."
Jane stopped in the hallway. "Gracious, not that woman?"
Agatha nodded sadly. "Unfortunate to be sure. I am not happy about it either. But that is neither here nor there. The lady is your guardian's business, and I am sorry for mentioning it. You are not to say a thing. Do you hear?"
Jane's lips compressed into a grim line. "Yes, but I do not have to like it."
"No, you do not," Agatha said, continuing her march up the stairs, her parasol tapping each step.
"But drat, Agatha, how can he marry such a woman?"
"To tell you the truth, Jane, it is beyond my comprehension entirely."
Nigel's playful bark drifted down the stairs.
"Sounds like trouble." Jane's lips curved into a smile as they hastened up the steps. "Whatever do you think is going on up there?"
Agatha stopped and turned toward her niece. "Do not let your imagination get away with you, Jane. It may lead to dire consequences someday."
Jane's entire face broke into a mischievous smile. "I can honestly say, Aunt, that it is not my imagination I am worried about."
Emily let out a gasp of shock when she was jerked from beneath the bed, turned on her back like a pig on a spit, and thrown face-up, the rug brushing up beneath her.
Every muscle in her body stiffened at the sight of Jared’s powerful body hovering over her. He smelled of horses and hay. His dark hair hung over one eye while his arms, clad only in a linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves, straddled each side of her head. She avoided his amber gaze and fixed her eyes on the open neck of his shirt. It was an admirable try, but it did nothing to rid her of her wayward thoughts or her body's treacherous reaction. The man was devilishly handsome.
A hot flush began working its way up her neck. She had seen her brothers run around half-dressed before, but this man was not her brother. He looked magnificent, clad only in his breeches and shirt, but it was more than that. She realized with a start that she still loved this scoundrel.
"Looking for something, sweeting?"
Like the jerk of a carriage coming to an abrupt stop, reality jarred her heart back into place. She lifted her chin with all the dignity she could muster in such a feeble position, glad of the shadows that hid the warmth in her cheeks. Insufferable man. It was obvious he had been watching every minute of her disgrace with his dog beneath that confounded bed.
"Indeed, I am looking for a book I lost," she said sharply.
He lifted his hand, and she flinched.
His mouth dipped into a frown. "The devil, Emily. I am not going to strike you, but heaven knows I should." He stared at her, leaning closer, his eyes intent on her lips. Tension sparked between them like lightning in a storm.
"Would you perchance be searching for this?" He pushed the book of Wordsworth in her face.
Emily snatched it from his hand.
"Your dog stole it," she said accusingly, her eyes frozen on his sinfully attractive face.
"Nigel?" He laughed, breaking the spell. "Why would my dog want a book of love poems?"
Emily felt as if he had slapped her. Had this man ever loved her? Of course not. How long would it take her to understand the signs of a rogue? Her own brothers took on the same attitude toward women as well.
"Take it, then. I don't need it either." She shoved the book into his face and squirmed from beneath his hold. When her hands pushed against his broad chest, a deep ache began to grow in her heart, pushing its way up her throat, almost stopping her from breathing. He had never loved her.
Dropping the book, Jared grabbed her by the shoulders
and peered into her eyes, keeping her pinned beneath him. The tension mounted between them, making her extremely conscious of the magnetic power coiled beneath his steadfast gaze. She felt the warmth of his hands searing every nerve in her body. He opened his mouth to speak, but answered by lowering his face and crushing his lips to hers. To her surprise, the kiss immediately turned tender, his mouth breathing life back into her scarred heart.
He pulled back, his intense gaze becoming a soft caress.
Emily found herself limp in his arms, too surprised to speak. Did he still love her? The question no sooner popped into her mind than he spoke.
"Will you ever forgive me, Em?"
Emily stiffened. Forgive him? Was his kiss supposed to make everything better? What a fool she had been. An utter fool! She had almost said something stupid, almost fallen into his trap again. When would she learn?
"You want me to forgive you?" she asked with a cynical smile. "For lying to me in that book? Or are you speaking in regard to your little jest of making me look like a fool three years ago. Or is it the kiss you just stole?"
A second passed and he threw his head back and laughed, releasing her.
Dumbfounded at his reaction, Emily sat up, brushing her skirt back into place. "And what exactly do you find so hilarious, sir?"
"You, sweetheart. You."
The endearment crushed her heart. Why was he doing this to her?
He lifted her chin with his finger, the touch blazing a path straight down to her toes. "You are too beautiful and independent to be alone all your life. Too much passion to be wasted, my dear."
He frowned then, dropping his finger as if he had been burned, and in one fluid motion, he pulled her upward and stepped away. She felt as if a sheet of ice had fallen from the ceiling, separating them.
A brittle smile crossed his face. "I hope your brothers find someone worthy of you."
Emily drew back in horror. How had he knowledge of her brothers' plans unless he was involved? The situation finally became all too clear. "Pray then, you are to guard me until Roderick returns, are you not?"
He paled, looking as guilty as Fennington had standing in her bedchambers. "Guard, you? Whatever gave you that absurd notion?"
The Rejected Suitor (The Clearbrooks) Page 7
