by Aileen Fish
Emily had yanked the door closed behind her, the sound terribly loud in the silent hall, and turned away from Veronica to the servants’ stairs at the back of the house. She’d marched down the steps, her tall boots rapping against the old wood, her blood pumping and her hands fisted.
“Nasty Baggage,” she’d muttered. “She’ll not be getting her way. I’ll tear her limb from limb before I allow her to ruin my life with her schemes.”
She’d flown across the stable yard, her legs eating up the distance, her coat flying out behind her in the cold wind.
“Morning, Miss,” Randall, the head groom, had greeted her as she’d entered the murky stables. “Will you be wanting me to saddle Danny Boy?”
Not quite trusting her voice, Emily had waved him off and continued to the stallion’s stall. With precise movements and barely restrained control she’d saddled the horse and leapt upon his back.
She’d reached the first rise to the north of the manner house, slowed Danny Boy to a gentle walk, and looked out over the valley below bathed in golden light and purple shadows. She’d felt her anger drain away, replaced with the sheer joy of being alive, being happy and in love.
Whatever plan Veronica had hatched would come to nothing. No one else had seen her exit Nicholas’ bed chamber. And even if there had been other witnesses, Emily knew there’d been no intimacy between them. Nicholas loved her, he wanted to marry her, to spend the rest of his life with her and only her.
With a light heart and a sudden craving for warm scones Emily had turned Danny Boy toward the village.
Now, hours later, the sun was high overhead, and Nicholas and Margaret had yet to return from their needless search for her. She still didn’t understand why Margaret had taken her carriage, but she’d learned that sometimes her aunt just got an idea in her head, no matter how far-fetched, and nothing would dissuade her.
She turned Danny Boy back toward the house and relaxed her hands on the reins. The horse sprang forward, taking full advantage of the sudden freedom, and shot across the gently sloping field. The wind tugged at her hair, whipping it out behind her, her old wool coat, a hand-me-down from her brother, billowed out behind her as she leaned forward, urging the stallion on.
A stone wall lay ahead and horse and rider cleared it effortlessly, Danny Boy with a soft grunt and Emily with an exultant laugh. Over the sound of her own happiness, Emily heard a distant echo.
“Emily.” Her name carried on the wind behind her, little more than a whisper, a hum of vibration. “Emily, love.”
Emily looked back over her shoulder to find Nicholas and his horse charging across the same field she’s galloped over minutes before.
She threw her head back and erupted into joyous laughter, the sound lifting into the crisp air, resonating across the open fields and rolling hills.
It was just like her dream. There he was, the golden giant riding toward her, calling out to her. But now she knew his eyes were blue. As blue as the sky above her and filled with love.
She tightened her hands on the reins, slowing Danny Boy to bring him around in a wide circle. Then horse and rider were pounding across the ground, gracefully flying over the gray stone wall, rushing head long toward the man who called to her.
They met atop a small knoll, their horses’ momentum forcing them past one another. As she flew past Nicholas, Emily reached out her hand and their fingers met for the merest moment, just a fleeting brush of skin to skin. She saw the smile upon his handsome face, and the laughter in his eyes and she knew he saw the same happiness on her face.
They circled around one another, close enough to lock eyes, too far apart to touch, once, twice, slower and slower, until their horses finally came to rest side by side with their riders reaching out toward one another.
Emily let out a huff of lingering laughter as Nicholas hauled her off Danny Boy’s back and across his thighs, his strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her against his massive chest.
His lips were on hers before she could draw her next breath. She knew he could feel the smile upon her lips as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, her fingers tangling with the soft curls at his nape.
“Emily, mine,” he whispered against her lips.
“Nicholas,” she murmured around a giggle that she could not suppress even had she tried.
Nicholas leaned his forehead against hers, their noses bumping gently as his horse shifted.
“Where have you been, love?” His breath drifted over her lips.
“I’ve been searching for you.”
Nicholas chuckled as he pulled back to meet her eyes. “And I’ve been searching for you. My whole life I’ve been searching for you.”
“I had a dream, months ago, on the journey to England,” she told him. “I was riding across the green fields of Emerald Isle when a golden Adonis with chocolate eyes on a giant black horse came after me calling to me.”
“My horse is brown,” he said with that mischievous smile she loved so well tilting his lips.
“And your eyes are blue.”
“My eyes? That’s why you asked me why my eyes were blue.”
“I did?” Emily asked in confusion.
“At the theater, just after you informed me that you possessed seventeen whiffles.”
“To be sure you must have thought I was the silliest woman on God’s green earth,” she drawled. She was suddenly uncomfortable with the reminder of her time in London, with the terrible weakness that had led her to fall into a pretty blue bottle.
“Emily?” Nicholas must have seen something of her shame written upon her face.
“I’ve something I must tell you,” she said quietly.
“Now?” he asked with a tender smile.
“Right now, this very instant.”
“Shall we walk, love?”
Nicholas and Emily left their horses grazing in the grass and walked to the rim of the hill hand and hand. Below Emily could see the manor house off in the distance, smoke rising from several chimneys to drift across the cloudless sky.
She tugged Nicholas’ hand and together they sat in the springy golden grass, their hands still joined between them.
“I’m afraid I am not the lady you believe me to be.”
Nick listened silently as Emily told him much the same tale Margaret had shared with him in the carriage. She did not cry or offer excuses for her downfall. Staring down at the manor house below, she calmly and quietly told the tale of a young lady confused and afraid in a foreign land who had sought solace in a seemingly magic potion.
She spoke of her loneliness, of her feelings of standing apart from those around her, of the anxiety for her future that had been her constant companion, and of her fear that she would soon be tethered for life to a man she did not know, a man she did not trust to remain faithful. She spoke of the blessed oblivion she had found in that first dose of laudanum.
She shared her foggy perceptions of her time in London, of how she’d recognized the man from her dream in him as he stood above her in the theater.
Her tale of the time she’d spent in an opium bubble after Margaret has whisked her away to the country differed from her aunt’s in the details, her memories of those months clouded by the very poison that had nearly killed her. She told him of her machinations to obtain the laudanum, threatening Tilly until the girl stole away to the village, and riding to Colbert in the dark of night. She did not share the horrors she had endured when the drug was suddenly withheld from her.
Nicholas did not tell her that he already knew the tale, that Margaret had shared her deepest, darkest secret. He did not want to ruin the bond, both achingly fragile and infinitely strong, that existed between aunt and niece. He imagined that bond had been built upon the nightmare they’d endured and the courage and love they’d discovered in one another when they’d finally come through it.
And Nick knew with crystal clarity that Emily needed to tell the tale, to say the words, to know that he knew her secret shame a
nd loved her still.
“I honestly thought I might die from want of the poison, from the need that clawed at me,” she whispered brokenly. “I had truly become a ghost, wandering the halls day and night in an effort not to think, not to face the mess I’d made of my life, of my dreams for the future.”
“Oh, Em,” Nick murmured, squeezing her hand.
“And then I nearly did die,” she continued softly, her head falling forward, her hair fanning around her, hiding her sorrow and shame. “I remember little of that night beyond walking down the hall to Aunt Margaret’s room to…to beg her…”
“For just a bit, just a sip,” he finished quietly for her when she fell silent.
Emily’s head snapped up and she blinked at him, her eyes awash in unshed tears.
“To hold me,” she whispered. “I just wanted her to hold me. I felt so alone.”
Nick reached for her then, pulled her into his arms and into his lap. Emily burrowed against him, her arms winding around his shoulders, her face buried in his neck. He rocked her gently while he caressed her back, sifted through her silken hair.
“I haven’t taken a drop of laudanum since Maggie locked the stable doors,” she said with a sigh and Nick thought her story was finished.
He was wrong.
Emily leaned back in his arms and met his gaze, her eyes clear and bright, a frown pulling at her lips.
“I’ve had no laudanum, and God willing I never shall,” she said. “But, Nicholas, that does not mean I no longer crave it.”
“It’s been months,” Nick protested.
“It is still with me.” Her words were quiet and her eyes solemn. “I don’t know if I have the words to explain it, to make you understand.”
“Try, Emily,” he begged.
“Sometimes, especially when I am overwrought, when my emotions are in upheaval, it comes upon me. Nicholas, it’s like a snake that burrows into the base of my spine and slithers its way up until it just lingers at the nape of my neck.”
“Jesus, Em,” he murmured, horrified by the image her words evoked, by the thought of what she must endure.
“The cravings grow dimmer and dimmer with each passing day. I have not felt them truly take hold of me since the night after my encounter with the wild dogs.”
“You made me promise not to allow them to give you laudanum,” he replied in confusion.
“I did not crave it for the pain, Nicholas,” she explained, her hands falling to her lap, her fingers clenching. “It was never about the pain in my body. It was ever about the pain in my head and in my heart, about wanting to disappear, wanting to bury myself in nothingness where my thoughts and worries dissolved and my feelings went numb. Blessed oblivion.”
“Then why did you crave it that night? Was it the shock or fear?” he asked.
Emily looked away, back to Morris Hall, a small wry smile lifting one corner of her lips. “Da saw my tattered undergarments.”
“He thought I’d compromised you in the woods while you lay unconscious?” he demanded.
“He thought there was the appearance of impropriety,” she hurried to explain. “And Maggie was just egging him on.”
“They tried to force you to marry me.”
She nodded, the same wry smile still on her lips.
“And the thought of being tied to me for life had you seeking oblivion?”
“To be sure, I was not thinking clearly,” she replied with a grin. “Now the oblivion I find in your arms has me seeking to tie myself to you for life.”
Nick attempted a smile at her words, he truly did, but he knew he hadn’t pulled it off when her smile wavered before disappearing from her face altogether to be replaced by a look of dawning horror.
“Oh my God!” She scrambled from his lap to land hard on her bottom. Her bare hands clawed at the grass and the heels of her boots dug into the ground as she attempted to rise while putting space between them. She crab-walked that way until with a desperate moan she lunged to her feet. It was the most graceless retreat he’d ever witnessed and for a moment surprise kept him frozen in place.
“You’ve no intention of marrying me now,” she exclaimed, all the color draining from her face but for two blotchy spots of flaming pink on her cheeks. “You promised to love me no matter what secrets I revealed!”
Nick jumped to his feet.
“You lowdown, lying…” she sputtered, clearly unable to think of a word horrible enough to fit.
Nick advanced on her, the humor he’d been unable to find moments before now rolling over him until it was all he could do not to laugh in her face.
“Fortune hunter,” she shouted, batting at the hands he held out to her.
“Emily.” Laughter laced the word.
“Tis funny, is it?” Emily demanded, her hands going to her hips. “To promise one thing and hold to another when things get a might jiggy?”
“Jiggy?” He thrust his hands onto his hips in imitation of her warrior stance. Lord, she was a sight, her hair blowing around her in a fiery cloud, her emerald eyes shooting daggers, and her breasts downright jiggy as she sucked air into her lungs.
“To be sure I never wanted to marry you anyway!”
On a giant whoop of laughter Nick crossed the distance that separated them and wrapped his arms around her. Emily jumped at the sudden move, stumbled and would have fallen had he not tightened his grasp. One hand in the middle of her back, the other firm on the swell of her bottom, he bent her backward, until he loomed over her, his laughing breath setting the curls on her forehead to dancing. “Oh, you’ll marry me. Make no mistake, Emily Ann Calvert. You’ll marry me.”
“Maybe I will and maybe I won’t,” she drawled with a soft smile, all of her earlier anger and temper falling away.
“About this morning,” he began, wanting no more secrets between them, no doubt to linger in her mind.
“I saw Veronica in the hall outside your chamber.” Emily’s fingers skimmed along his jaw. “She was crying.”
“Crying?” he repeated in surprise.
“I know you did not make love to her, Nicholas.” The quiet conviction, the absolute faith he heard in her words both stunned and warmed him.
“Emily,” he whispered before leaning down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss filled with all the love, all the devotion he felt for her.
“I love you, Nicholas Avery,” she whispered against his lips
Nick lifted his head, met her bright eyes. “I haven’t words to tell you how I love you, Emily. I will always love you. You and only you.”
“And you still wish to marry me?”
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life,” he pledged quietly.
“Even knowing all that I bring with me?” she persisted softly. “The cravings, the temper?”
Nick nodded emphatically before grinning down at her. “I want it all, the cravings, the temper, the fiery red hair and bright green eyes, and the passion and bossiness that go with them. And let’s not forget your treasure trove of useless knowledge.”
“Oh, Nicholas,” she replied on a wobbly laugh.
“You’ll marry me.” He kissed her softly, gently, reverently and whispered against her lips. “And when…if the cravings for your pretty poison ever come upon you, you’ll come to me and I’ll give you the blessed oblivion you seek.”
“Always,” she promised, her lips drifting over his.
“Always.”
About Lynne Barron
Lynne Barron always wanted to be a writer, if only she could decide what to write. Everyone told her write about what you know. It wasn’t until she married her wonderfully romantic husband that she was able to follow that advice. Lynne lives in Florida with her husband, son and a menagerie of rescued pets.
Lynne enjoys hearing from her readers. Please feel free to contact her at [email protected] or on her website http://www.lynnebarron.com.
Books by Lynne Barron
Idyllwild Series
Portrait of Pass
ion
Widow’s Wicked Wish
Unraveling the Earl
Pretty Poison
My Darling Gunslinger
Taming Beauty (Once Upon a Regency Box Set)
Scandalous Redemption
Book Three, Ladies and Scoundrels
Amanda Mariel
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2016 Amanda Mariel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Amanda Mariel
Dedication
To all of the fans of my Ladies and Scoundrels series, I hope you fall in love with Henry and Claudia.
Acknowledgment
As always, I could not do this without my amazing team of beta readers, cover artists, plotting partners, formatter, and my editor. You all know who you are, and each of you is amazing! Big hugs!!
TITLES BY AMANDA MARIEL
Ladies and Scoundrels Series
Scandalous Endeavors
Scandalous Intentions
Scandalous Redemption
Coming soon to the Ladies and Scoundrels Series
Scandalous Wallflower
Kathryn Le Veque’s Kindle World of De Wolfe Pack
Love’s Legacy
Box sets and Anthologies
Once Upon A Regency
Romantic Favorites
Love’s Prelude
Free multi author excerpt books
Timeless Kisses
