“Tell me about your love,” she said.
Kinsley did not hesitate. “She is beautiful on the inside as well as the out. I have never seen a brighter smile, nor heard a more infectious laugh. The room brightens when she enters it, and stays dim long after she’s left. She is everything good and right in the world, and I am a better man for knowing her.”
His words tugged at something deep inside of Emily’s heart and she could not help but wonder if he were ever asked a similar question if West would respond in kind. Would his face light up, as Kinsley’s had? Would his eyes sparkle? Would he smile without even realizing it? Her fingers tightened around the delicate stem of the champagne flute. She certainly hoped so. “If you feel this way about her, why are you not together?”
Kinsley’s sigh was long and low and filled with such bitter heartache Emily felt it deep in her bones. “Because she is engaged to my brother and were it not for him she would have no cause to spare me a second glance.”
“She does not know how you feel about her?” Emily asked, reading between the lines of what Kinsley was not saying.
His mouth twisted, but this time his smile was cold. “She does not have the faintest idea, and that is how it will continue. Now that you know my dirty little secret, Lady Emily, you must tell me yours.”
It was, she supposed, only fair. “I have fallen in love with a man who would never suit as a husband.”
“Because he is married to another,” Kinsley guessed.
Emily shook her head.
“Because he is far too old?”
Another shake.
“Well then what is it then?” he asked in exasperation.
What answer could she give? “He would never suit as a husband,” she began carefully, “because he is not a member of the peerage.”
“I have just told you the reason I cannot be with the woman I love is because she is to be married to my brother, and you’re response is to tell me the man you love cannot be your husband because he is not a member of the peerage?” Kinsley said incredulously. “My misery suddenly seems very lacking in company.”
Emily huffed out a breath. “It is worse than you make it sound.”
“Then by all means, enlighten me.”
“Do you want the truth?”
He inclined his head and she tipped hers back to drain the last of her champagne before reaching forward to set her glass on the edge of the metal railing with a resounding click.
“Very well, I shall tell you the truth.” And she proceeded to do just that, leaving nothing out from the moment she’d been taken in Hyde Park to that very morning when West had reappeared so unexpectedly. She skimmed over the bit about Lord Collinsworth and referred to West by his less commonly used full name, not wanting to reveal his true identity to a perfect stranger. Kinsley let her speak without interruption, and when she’d finally finished the silence between them was full and all encompassing.
Laughter from inside the ballroom gave Emily a start, and belatedly she realized the dancing had begun again. “I should return before my chaperone comes looking for me,” she said at last, reluctant to return, but knowing a far worse fate awaited her if Petunia discovered her whereabouts.
“So you should,” Kinsley agreed. Taking her elbow, he escorted her off the terrace and down the hall to the enormous double doors that led back into the ballroom. Potted ferns guarded the entrance and Emily absently glided her fingertips along the jagged edge of a shiny green leaf.
“Thank you for taking the time to listen to me.”
Bringing her hand to his lips, Kinsley kissed the back of it. “My pleasure. It’s a pity, really.”
“What is?”
“That we did not meet earlier. Before you were kidnapped by your Westley and I fell head over heels in love with my brother’s Rosemarie. I rather think we would have suited.”
“Is that her name? Rosemarie?”
“Indeed. Lady Rosemarie Parker.”
“A lovely name.”
Kinsley nodded. “A lovely name for a lovely woman.”
Even though they had only just met, Emily could not help but feel sorry for the man. He looked absolutely miserable, and because she knew what it felt like to offer someone love and have that love rejected she squeezed his arm and said, “What if you told her of your true feelings?”
“And force her to choose between my brother and I? No, I would never do that.”
“Because she would choose you,” Emily guessed.
“Because she would choose him.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks warmed. Not knowing what else to say she stepped back, nearly tipping over one of the potted ferns before she managed to catch her balance. “I should be getting back—”
“Perhaps it is time I took my leave—”
Their eyes met, and they both laughed, quietly at first and then louder and louder until more than a few heads began to turn. Stepping behind the other potted fern to hide from prying eyes inside the ballroom, Kinsley composed himself enough to say, “My plight is nigh on impossible, but yours is not. You seem like a charming young woman, Lady Emily, and any man should consider him lucky to have you, let alone the Duke of St. Giles.”
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but the words withered in her throat as she realized what Kinsley had just said. “I never referred to him by that title,” she said slowly.
“So you didn’t,” Kinsley agreed. “You were very careful, actually. I am quite impressed. But you let enough slip for me to put two and two together.”
“What are you, some sort of detective?” She’d meant it as a light-hearted quip, but Kinsley’s somber expression had her stomach tightening with unease. “You’re not, are you? A detective, I mean.” She sincerely hoped not, for she’d not only admitted to being kidnapped, but told him precisely where West could be found tomorrow at midnight! “Mr. Kinsley…”
“I am not a detective,” he said at last, and Emily exhaled the breath she’d been holding on a startled laugh.
“Goodness, you gave me a fright! West and I have enough troubles without him being trotted off to prison. He is not a bad man you know,” she said earnestly. “Yes, he has done things below the law, but that was only to ensure his own survival. A bit of smuggling here and there never hurt anyone. And he truly does help the people of St. Giles, whether they know it or not. It is not as though he’s ever murdered anyone. Well, only two people. But that was for a very good cause. Why, I no doubt would have done the same myself and I – I should not be telling you any of this,” she said with a shake of her head.
Kinsley propped a shoulder against the door and sighed. “No, you really shouldn’t.”
“But it hardly matters, as you’re not a detective or anything like that,” she said with a dismissive flick of her wrist.
“That… is not precisely true.”
“What?” Emily’s eyes widened. “But you said—”
“I said I am not a detective. But I never said I wasn’t a Bow Street Runner.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sleek and stealthy as an alley cat, West crept through Grosvenor Square with only moonlight to guide him. It pooled on the cobblestone in a stream of silver and splashed up against the fronts of the elegant townhouses that framed the square and housed the crème de la crème of London’s high society. In the daytime the square would be filled with women in beautiful dresses, fancy carriages, and even a live quartet or two playing music, but for tonight, with the exception of a few scattered lights and the weary clip-clop of a horse’s hooves as it carried its master home, all was quiet and still.
For what felt like the hundredth time West slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket and closed his fingers around the tiny, delicate piece of jewelry that rested safely at the bottom.
Rings were not commonplace when asking a woman for her hand in marriage, but he’d wanted to give Emily a physical token of his love when he got down before her on bended knee and asked her to be his forever. He’d even ensured the
ring was purchased through reputable means; it was one of the reasons his arrival in London had been delayed for over a week. Wanting to be able to make a grand gesture – but not wanting to fund said gesture with money earned by illegal means – he’d sold the chestnut colt to a viscount in the next town over who had an eye for fine horse flesh and was in the market for a future racer. The colt wouldn’t be weaned from his dam for another four months, but West made certain he was paid in advance, and he’d used the money to purchase a slender gold band with a diamond shaped sapphire in the middle.
No doubt most women would have craved something much more ostentatious, but if he knew Emily – and he liked to think he did – she would be pleased with the ring’s simple, elegant design. Like her, it did not draw the eye immediately, but upon further inspection one could not help but admire the beauty and strength such a small piece of jewelry possessed.
He found the garden Emily had spoken of easily enough. Tucked away behind an intricately designed black wrought iron fence, it boasted flowering shrubs and trees in a variety of sizes as well as a circular stone walkway that led to a wooden gazebo. In the middle of the gazebo was a bench, and in the middle of the bench sat Emily, bathed in moonlight and looking resplendent in a blue velvet cloak. The hood was thrown back off her shoulders and her long hair was curled in a simple twist, revealing the long slant of her neck. She looked like a fairy queen sitting upon her throne, and West was helpless not to fall under her spell.
She startled when he spoke her name, her eyes searching the shadows before finding him at the end of the path. He advanced slowly, taking pleasure in every long, prowling step as each one taken brought him closer to Emily. When he finally stood before her she tilted her back and looked up, her blue eyes luminous in the silvery light.
“You came,” she said simply.
“I did, even though it took me far longer than I would have liked.”
A line appeared above her brows. “You are only a few minutes late. Or I might even be early. I forgot to check the time before I left.”
He shook his head and cleared his throat as the words he wanted to say – the words he’d practiced all the way here – became lodged. So instead he touched her, and even though it was only a simple brush of his fingers across her cheek, it gave him the courage to say what needed to be said. “I was not only referring to tonight. I mean this moment in general.”
“What moment?” Like a young, nervous horse uncertain if it were about to be stroked or scolded, Emily watched him warily, and West knew her trepidation was nothing less than he deserved.
For even though he’d apologized for the things he had said, he’d not yet done anything to prove his sincerity or the depth of his feelings.
Until now.
Taking one of her hands between both of his, he knelt on one knee before her. When she opened her mouth to speak he leaned forward and silenced the words with a long, lingering kiss. Drawing back, looking into her eyes, he said quietly, “Let me say what I need to, and then I welcome whatever reply you would give me.” He took a deep breath. “I know I can be a difficult man to understand. My life has not been an easy one. I’ve endured many hardships. Hardships I would not wish upon anyone else, least of all the woman who has stolen my heart.”
“West, I—”
“Quiet,” he said sternly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “When a man is professing his true love for you it is best to be quiet.”
“You love me?” Emily sounded stunned.
“Yes, but I haven’t gotten to that part yet.” His countenance hardened into a scowl. “You’re making me skip ahead.”
She bit back a smile. “Go on. I promise I will not say another word until you are finished.”
“See that you don’t,” he said gruffly. “As I was trying to say, what I wanted out of life before I met you and what I wanted after became two entirely different things. Things I wasn’t certain how to reconcile, at least not at first. Everything between us happened so quickly. I did not know how to react. I never thought… I never imagined I would ever find someone like you.” He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I wanted you more with every passing day, but knowing that I did not deserve you, knowing that being with me would put your very life in danger, I reacted unkindly. It was not until I realized I couldn’t have both you and St. Giles that I gained some peace of mind, and came to a decision.”
Emily’s shoulders slumped. Her gaze dropped. Her hand went lifeless in his grasp. “And you’ve come here to tell me you have chosen St. Giles.”
It took a great deal of effort, but West somehow managed not to take her slumped shoulders and give her a good bloody shake. Was the woman deaf? Had she not heard everything he’d been saying? “The hell with St. Giles,” he said in exasperation. “I’ve chosen you, you silly twit. Given the choice it will always be you until the day I take my last breath.”
Her head jerked up. Her mouth dropped open. “What – what are you saying?”
“I am saying I love you, Lady Emily Wilmington. I know we have only known each other for a little while, but sometimes the most majestic and powerful things happen in the blink of an eye. Lightning strikes. Flash floods. Hurricanes.”
“Are you comparing our love to an Act of God?” she asked skeptically.
West thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose I am.”
“But… but what about St. Giles? What about being the duke?”
“All behind me,” he said firmly. “You’ve made me want to be a new man. A better man. A man a woman like you would be proud to stand beside, not hide behind. I know it will not be perfect. I know I am asking you to endure gossip and whispers and rumor. I even know you could do far better than me. But I am asking you not to.” He sat back on his heel and fumbled for what felt like a small eternity in his pocket before pulling out the ring. It gleamed in the moonlight, the sapphire reflecting and glowing with a light all its own. “I am asking you to be with me. I am asking you to love me. I am asking you to marry me.”
Eyes shimmering with unshed tears, Emily parted her lips… but before she could speak a word the sound of slow, mocking clapping filled the gazebo.
“Brilliant,” drawled a man in a horribly familiar, nasally tone as he stepped from the shadows. “Absolutely brilliant. I know it brought a tear to my eye. What is the word they use to compliment actors on the stage? Oh, yes. Bravo!”
In an instant West was on his feet, hands curled into fists and teeth bared as he whirled to face the man who’d snuck up on them and now stood at the base of the gazebo steps. He was short and thin, with a sickly, sallow complexion courtesy of drinking to excess. Beneath the black top hat he wore West knew his hair would be dark red in color and slicked back from his temple and his eyes, though small and squinty, were a murky brown. After all, this was not the first time the two of them had crossed paths.
“Collinsworth,” he spat in disgust. “What are you doing here?”
“Why, I am here by invitation of course.”
“Funny,” West gritted out, “I do not recall inviting you anywhere.”
“Oh, not you old chap. Her.” Doffing his hat, Collinsworth pointed it past West at Emily who gasped in outrage and jumped to her feet to stand at West’s side. Without looking down they clasped hands, their fingers interlocking.
“I did no such thing! I have never even met you! Although West has told me all about what you are trying to do to him, and I think it is despicable to accuse someone of something you know they had no part of. Why, West no more murdered your wife than – than I did. And you know it!”
A warrior’s heart in a fairy queen’s body, West thought with pride as he glanced askance at Emily. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes hot with anger. He felt the tension running through her slender body in waves, and had no doubt that if his hand were not anchoring her at his side she would have thrown herself at Collinsworth.
“You heard her,” he said dismissively. “The last thing she would do
is bother with the likes of you. Now return to hiding under whatever hole you crawled out of before I shove you back in it.”
The earl tossed back his head and laughed. It was an ugly sound, filled with hate and malice and a hint of something not quite sane. “I am afraid you don’t know your beloved as well as you think you do, St. Giles If she didn’t tell me precisely where to find you tonight, who did?”
West set his jaw, ignoring the fact that Collinsworth did, in fact, raise a very good point. He’d told no one he would be in Grosvenor Square at midnight. Not even Niles knew. Which meant the only other person who could have told anyone was standing beside him holding his hand. He would never have believed it of her… except when he glanced at her face there was no mistaking the guilt written across her countenance.
His heart rebelled at the idea that she would have betrayed him but his mind… his mind immediately leapt to the worse possible conclusion. Through gritted teeth he turned to her and said, “Tell me what he is saying is untrue. Tell me. Damn you,” he hissed when she merely stood in place and stared at him in wide-eyed horror, “tell me!”
“I did not say anything to him!” she cried.
West drew a ragged breath as his muscles slowly uncoiled. Of course she hadn’t betrayed him to Collinsworth. She loved him. She was going to be his—
“But I did tell someone.”
Collinsworth’s laughter rang out again. “I told you I was here by invitation,” he said gleefully. “And who better to send it to me but the woman you want to marry! Do you still want her now, St. Giles? Do you?”
Ignoring him, West took Emily by the shoulders, fingers sinking into the soft folds of her cloak. “Who?” he said harshly, giving her a small shake. Her head lolled to the side like a doll’s, her face pale and lips trembling. “Who did you tell, Emily?” And why? Did she want to see him sent to prison for a murder he had not committed? Did she want him punished for kidnapping her? Had the feelings she’d expressed been a lie? A clever ruse to lure him to somewhere he never would have gone otherwise?
The Duke of St. Giles Page 22
