Wicked Designs

by Lauren Smith

  “I thought I ought to wake you. I desire my good morning kiss.”

  “Your kiss? My darling, we are far beyond kisses now.” His husky tone lit a tingling fire between her legs.

  He didn’t wait for an invitation but slid her upwards and rolled her beneath him. Catching her mouth in a tender, sinful embrace, his left arm reached for the small drawer on his bedside table.

  “What are you doing?” she asked between kisses.

  His hand returned to their bodies under the covers. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m protecting you, that is all.”

  The heat of the next kiss stole away all rational thought.

  Some time later, she and Godric panted in each other’s arms as pleasure flooded their limbs. Godric’s body trembled and Emily cradled his head to her breasts, stroking his hair. She couldn’t help but admire the deep shades of brown caught by the morning light in his thick mane.

  “Why do you tremble?”

  “Making love to you…” Godric’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Yes?” She kissed his dark hair, inhaling his masculine scent.

  “I feel like a boy again.”

  Emily was not sure what to make of this. “Is that…a good thing?”

  “It is a wonderful thing, Emily. Every sensation, every kiss… It feels new. I never thought I could feel that way again.” Godric raised himself onto his elbows as he lay on her, still deep inside, the connection intense between them. His long lashes fanned out over his cheeks as he shut his eyes. The confession seemed to open him, make him vulnerable. She knew that tortured and hesitant look too well.

  “Emily, there is something I would like to discuss with you.” He gently withdrew, and sat up close to her.

  “What is it?” Suspicion clouded the sunny warmth in her heart.

  “Because of this new development—” he waved a hand over the rumpled bed sheets “—returning you to your uncle is out of the question. I won’t hear of it. But you must decide what you wish to do now.”

  Emily sat up, bringing the sheet up to cover herself. “You wish to send me away now?” Grief settled over her like a thick wool blanket, smothering her.

  “What?” His brows drew together. “Send you away? Are you mad? I want you to stay here, stay with me. You need never concern yourself with your uncle again.” His thumbs stroked her cheeks. The gesture calmed her, but her chest still twinged, anticipating the death blow she knew he’d someday deliver to her heart.

  “You want me to stay here with you? For how long?” She had to have some answers, even if they were painful ones.

  “Yes.” The first question he answered without hesitation, but the second question he lingered over. “You will stay as long as you like once this business with your uncle is over.”

  Emily tried to banish the burn of tears. He was not offering marriage or love, but time. If this was all she could have of him, she would take it, for now.

  I will think about the consequences tomorrow.

  “Then I will stay.” Her agreement brought him back down on her again with eager kisses.

  The grandfather clock outside chimed nine times. The morning hours slipped away as they lay amid the destruction of pillows and sheets.

  “What about breakfast?” she asked in a sated daze.

  “Breakfast?” Godric’s hand traced designs on her collarbone. She lay back against his chest. One arm lay wrapped around her upper body while fingers danced across her skin. She watched as one formed a decisive pattern over and over again.

  “What are you doing?”

  His lips curved into a smile against her cheek.

  “Writing my name on you.”

  “If you’re claiming me, then I deserve fair turnabout.” Emily caught his hand and turned his palm up until it faced her. She held his hand still and used her right index finger to draw her own name in an invisible signature, then she brought his palm to her lips and sealed her name with a kiss. Godric covered her hand with his and nestled their paired hands on her waist. The soft silence between them was warm and secretive. Beyond Godric and their bed nothing else existed.

  Was there ever a moment better than this? Nestled in his strong arms, she felt strong herself. She couldn’t help but imagine what life could be with the handsome, brooding Duke of Essex, who broke into smiles just for her and made her laugh and cry out with pleasure. Each breath, each kiss shared between them, tied her heart with strings and connected her to him. She’d always feel that cosmic pull towards him and fall into the gravity of his being. Whatever else happened, this moment, this perfect single instance, would always exist. A sunny memory bathed in love and bottled in her heart. It would never be enough, but she would take whatever came her way until it ended.

  The rumble of Emily’s stomach broke the silence.

  “Right! Breakfast! You must be famished!” Godric flew from the bed in a flurry to dress. Emily gathered her torn garments, heading to her room.

  When they finally made it to the dining room the others were finishing their meals. Emily read at once their knowing gazes, and she flushed, eyes falling to the floor as she remembered her cries of pleasure. The entire manor must have heard her and Godric last night…and this morning.

  Godric greeted them without a hint of embarrassment. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” Lucien had his usual paper, but he folded it down over his fingers to glance at her and Godric before flipping the paper shield back up. Emily decided Lucien was less interested in his paper than in hiding his expression. She had glimpsed a smirk before the newspaper blocked him from view.

  Charles stifled a yawn, running a hand through tousled blond hair. He was such an odd man. His clothes always neat, trim and finely cared for, but Charles himself was always sleepy-eyed and rumpled, as though he’d just emerged from bed.

  Cedric kept busy by feeding Penelope crumbs of his leftover toast. A servant must have come up and fetched the pup before she and Godric woke.

  Ashton regarded Emily with the same intense scrutiny she had given the others. “You look very lovely this morning, Emily.”

  The compliment startled and pleased her. “Thank you.”

  Ashton smiled then turned to Godric and—damn the man!—spoke in Italian. Whatever Godric replied seemed to ease Ashton, and amuse the others, except Cedric. He looked more than once in her direction with a mingled look of pity and concern. Emily’s stomach knotted. She ate her breakfast, but chewing became a task. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Godric talk and eat with his friends.

  After nothing else distressing occurred, she relaxed.

  Cedric eased back into his chair. “I say, Godric, how is the fishing in that lake of yours? Anything worth catching this time of year?”

  “It’s been months since I’ve been there with the intent to fish. Be my guest, and feel free to take the others with you.” Godric put his hand on Emily’s knee under the table. Did he want her to go as well?

  Emily bit her lip a moment, debating what his touch meant before speaking. “May I go too? I used to love fishing as a child.”

  Cedric and Charles exchanged amused looks. Godric’s hand tightened on her leg.

  “May I, Godric?”

  “You want to spend the day fishing?” Displeasure darkened his eyes.

  “Well, if you’d rather that I didn’t…” She wished she understood men better. They were such secretive, guarded creatures, and entirely unpredictable in what they wanted. They were frustrating.

  “Let her come, Godric. Fresh air is good for a woman like Emily,” Cedric said.

  “You truly desire to sit about in a boat for several hours in the sun?” Godric’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

  “You’d be there with me, wouldn’t you?” Emily’s hand underneath the table settled lightly on top of his hand. “And if you fall in and pretend to drown, I can pretend to rescue you again.”

  Godric sighed in defeat and shot a rather mutinous glare at Cedric. “Fishing it is then. Give me o
ne hour in my study. I’ve a few things to attend to.” Godric got up from the table and left Emily alone with the other four lords.

  Emily finished her hot chocolate before jumping up to follow Godric.

  Charles half rose, ready to follow her but Ashton put a hand on his forearm.

  “Rest easy, Charles. She is not going anywhere.”

  “How can you be sure? The little sprite has run us ragged over the past few days! How do you know she’s not giving it another go?”

  “It is obvious you’ve never been in love before. Emily doesn’t want to let Godric out of her sight. She’s attached to him now more than ever.”

  Charles sat back down. “You’re saying that she won’t run because she’s infatuated with him?”

  “Some people spend their entire lives falling in love again and again, over and over. Others fall in love that first time, and it is a true spark of love rather than a passing fancy. What Emily has shown towards Godric is not infatuation.” Ashton sighed and took a long sip of his coffee. “And that’s what worries me.”

  He prayed to God that Godric knew what he was doing. If Emily was harmed physically or emotionally it would hurt them all.

  To think that the infamous League of Rogues hung on the happiness of one young woman.

  Emily paused at the open doorway to Godric’s study. He was seated at his desk, pouring over ledgers and letters. She took the opportunity to memorize his features, paint them on the canvas of her mind, and burn them into her heart—the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, the strong hands that gripped the pages, the lean muscled legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

  With a tentative step she crossed study’s threshold. The wooden floor creaked. Godric glanced up at her, smiled and resumed his work. Perhaps another woman would have been upset that she hadn’t been addressed. But Godric’s polite acceptance of her trespass had a wholly different meaning. It represented trust. She didn’t wish to ruin the moment by being bothersome and distracting. She selected a book from the shelves, a botanical discussion of plants native to Kent, and settled herself on the couch near him.

  After a quarter of an hour she looked up to find Godric glaring down at a ledger before him, his teeth gritted in a silent snarl. Emily set her book down and got up from the couch, coming behind Godric and studying what had upset him. It was a messy book of accounts, very ill-kept and confusing. But Emily’s keen eye located instantly where the numbers were incorrectly calculated.

  She put a hand on his left shoulder, her fingers curled into his shirt. “Oh dear. May I help?”

  He turned his head in surprise as though not even aware of her presence.

  “What?”

  She gestured to the books. “Is this how you keep all your books?”

  “It’s how I was taught.”

  “But it’s so confusing the way you’ve set up your columns of numbers.”

  Godric grinned. “It’s how business is done, darling.”

  This time she arched a brow. “Yes, I know, I’ve seen it before. In businesses that have failed. Your structure is wrong. It’s a wonder I can even follow the entries.”

  “You know about accounting?”

  “Yes, in fact, I do. Would you like me to fix the errors for you? I can tidy it up in a new book if you have a spare one—”

  He gaped at her. “You’re serious?”

  “I helped my father with his.” Emily shooed him out of his chair and sat, pulling the ledger closer and taking an empty book when he fetched it for her. She turned the old book back to the first page and started his accounts over. “Numbers are far less confusing when you arrange them correctly,” she said. “Let the sums add themselves, as it were.”

  In less than an hour she’d corrected all of the miscalculations as well as highlighted the weaker investments he’d made, her uncle’s mine scheme included. Godric leaned back against the desk next to her.

  “Just when I have myself convinced that I’ve learned everything about you, you surprise me.” He twined a lock of her hair about his fingers, eyes warm on her face.

  Emily preened. “Then you’re pleased with me?” She wanted to be sure she had not injured his male pride. Men were such fragile creatures.

  “What do you think?” Godric pulled her up and into his embrace. He laid a languid kiss on her, fingers digging into her lower back as he pushed her closer to his body.

  “I suspect that is a yes.”

  Godric kept his arms about her waist, nuzzling her neck, the embrace sweet rather than sensual.

  “Do you really wish to go fishing, darling? We could empty the house of the others and have it all to ourselves.” He flicked his tongue inside her ear.

  Desire sparked through her like a lightning strike. As much as she wanted to be right back in bed, uniting herself with him, she worried he might tire of her. She needed him to spend time with her outside the bedroom.

  She had to keep him wanting her because, the moment he stopped, her heart would shatter and she’d have to take Penelope and leave. She’d never want or love another man as she did Godric. He hadn’t just drawn his name on her body, he’d carved it into her heart.

  “I do want to fish.” She toyed with the folds of his cravat. He caught her hands, lifting them up to his mouth for a kiss.

  “I could certainly make you change your mind.” The rich timbre of his voice warmed her.

  “I know you could, but we mustn’t neglect your friends. They are so kind to keep you company while you hold me captive. You ought to repay them with your presence at least during the day.”

  “You still see yourself as a prisoner?” asked Godric.

  She considered this. She still felt caged by the situation, but the in last day, she had felt distinctly less a captive and something far more.

  “No. But, we do need to be more social. I cannot lie in bed with you all day.” No matter how enjoyable that might be.

  Godric smiled and tucked her arm in his. “You, my dear, have a resolve made of stone, and a silver tongue.” He sighed as they got up to rejoin the others.

  Cedric and Lucien held the fishing poles and Charles a box of lures. Penelope sat patiently at Ashton’s feet, her little black nose upturned as she looked from man to man, waiting and watching, knowing something was afoot.

  “Ready?” Cedric made no attempt to conceal is boyish excitement as he brushed his chestnut hair back from his forehead. His brown eyes glowed with the fervent expectation of their future fishing expedition.

  “Yes, we are.” Emily left Godric’s side as she caught up with Cedric and Lucien.

  “Did Emily join you in your study after breakfast?” Ashton asked Godric, as they watched Emily and the others.

  “Yes, and wouldn’t you know it, she helped me sort out my investment ledger. You know how dreadful I am at it. She’s an excellent mathematician. She got me well sorted out.”

  “It seems she is still keeping secrets from us. Emily told me she had no head for business.”

  “Indeed.” Godric nodded. “But your choice of Italian this morning was smart. She caught none of what we said, I am sure. She would have certainly blushed.”

  “I meant what I said. You have to be careful with her. She’s too young to be a mother.”

  “Ash, not today, please. I’ve heard enough of your scolding. Can’t I just enjoy Emily? She is happy, I am happy, you ought to be happy.”

  When Ashton’s gaze did not subside Godric continued. “No matter if Emily was to have a dozen babies pulling at her apron, she would never lose that innocence. It is something not even time in bed can cure, and I am glad for that. It makes each moment precious.” It was the first time he’d admitted such emotion aloud, but Ashton only smiled.

  “As long as you see the value of it for what it is, that Emily is indeed precious, there is still hope for you.” Ashton’s blue eyes were grayer today filled with contemplation and concern.

  Godric patted his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll not do wrong by her,
Ash. You have my word on that.”

  “I am glad to hear it. So long as you treat her kindly you will both be happy.”

  “Perhaps.” Godric knew Emily more and more each day, and while she was gentle to a fault, her rebellious streak was not so much a streak as an impossibly deep river, a river that would never dry up, and never turn its course.

  The truth was, he could not do without her. Being with her was like winning the right to breathe. He had to have her, all of her, for as long as he could.

  The outing had been an enjoyable one. Cedric was delighted at their catch of perch and wanted to stay out longer, but when the skies above the manor darkened, the group decided to return to shore.

  Lucien studied the clouds. “Nasty turn in the weather.”

  Emily glanced at the marquess. “Do you think it will storm tonight?”

  “We could certainly use the rain, but it will make the roads dreadful for any sort of travel”

  A low rumble of thunder rippled across the meadow as they walked back to the manor. The sinister crash from the skies churned Godric’s stomach. Deep in his bones he sensed something was amiss.

  Simkins met them in the hallway, his face strained. “Your Grace, you have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?” Godric nodded to Cedric and Lucien to take Emily to the drawing room. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  Simkins struggled to maintain his composure. “Yes, Your Grace. She is in the parlor.”

  “She?”

  “It is Miss Mirabeau to see you.”

  Godric cursed. What the devil was she doing here? He made it clear she was never to darken his doorway again.

  Godric patted Simkins’s shoulder. “Thank you, Simkins. I’ll see her now.”

  They had once been lovers, but she hadn’t understood him and the way he approached his servants. He’d suffered her bad attitude towards his household. Having been born to a family of exiled French aristocrats, she had different expectations of relationships between the classes. Godric viewed a few of his servants like extended family and Evangeline had most vehemently objected to such closeness. The memory of their final fight over her treatment of Simkins left a bitter taste in his mouth.