“I want to swim. But I won’t wear one of those ridiculous things. I’m going without clothing at all,” she said firmly, her head tipped to the side. “I think maybe one night when the moon is high and no one is about to complain. I love swimming.”
“Perhaps we can arrange a small tent for you to disrobe in,” Lucas said when he was positive his throat hadn’t completely dried up.
“That would be nice. With some towels. Very thoughtful, sir, thank you.”
“I can somehow imagine you as a mermaid out there, Emma.” Lucas shook off the image and turned off along the drive to the manor, his frown deepening at the unknown coach in front of the house. His lips thinned when he realized Harris was standing guard outside with Brock.
“Who do you think it is?” Emma scooted a little closer to him on the padded leather seat.
“By the look on Harris’ face, I can only conclude it’s not someone I favor.” Lucas pulled the horse and carriage past the coach and nodded to the waiting young man. “Emma, I want you to take your purchases and go straight to your room until I come for you. Do you understand?”
“I don’t like running, Lucas.” But she nodded. “But I’ll do as you say.”
His gaze landed on the purple bruises around her throat and his teeth ground together as he stepped from the seat. He walked around the horse with an absent pat on the long nose. He hadn’t taken his gaze from Emma as he’d walked to her side of the carriage, his hands up and on her waist. He vaguely realized he should be grateful she waited instead of hopping down as was her normal behavior. But he could see a hint of fear in her dark eyes and that troubled him. He would have it gone.
****
Emma held her breath as the carriage was walked off. The windows of the carriage blocked from viewing the inside as she moved behind it and up the few steps to the main doors. Harris nodded politely to her and opened one of the doors. She looked from him to Brock. Neither man took their eyes off the coach sitting quietly in the drive.
The soft bottom of her shoes thumped the floor in a small show of temper when she closed the door. No windows. She couldn’t spy and because it was a very heavy wooden door, she couldn’t even hear really well. With a small huff of breath, she turned and continued to the library to see what more there was to organize of her books.
“Oh,” she came to a quick stop, the older man bolting to his feet at her voice. Then she noticed the collar. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Lucas had company.”
“I’m slightly early,” he apologized, his voice soft and steady.
“He’s here. Lucas, I mean,” Emma continued to her desk, setting her package down and facing him. “He’s dealing with…well, I’m not sure who it is, actually.” She stepped forward, palm extended. “Emma Carstairs.” She floundered a little. “I’m sorry…I don’t know what to call you. Pastor? Reverend?”
“Ahh…the lovely bride,” he said warmly, taking her hand. “And either of those works fine, my dear. William Finmore.”
“Pleased to meet you, Pastor,” she looked nervously to the loud sounds coming through the open balcony doors. “You’ve been here…I mean, working in the area for a long time?” She met his eyes again. “You know his father.”
Pastor Finmore sighed, nodding slowly. “Yes. The young Earl has gone a very long way to repair the damage done by his father to the family reputation.”
“Lucas is an Earl?” Emma repeated the question that had been floating inside her head since she heard the title the first time.
“Earl of Worston,” the reverend confirmed.
“What he’s an earl of is different than his name,” Emma pushed a puff of breath between her lips.
“It can be quite confusing for those unaccustomed to the titled,” he agreed with an understanding smile.
“There’s so much that’s different,” she said absently. “I don’t want to embarrass him,” she glanced over at the reverend. “You’ve heard the story of how I came to be here. Everyone seems to have heard it.” Emma paced the room quietly, the bright colors in the patterned rug not even holding her attention from Lucas this time.
“The beginning isn’t always as important as the outcome,” he said carefully. “When I spoke with Lucas earlier, he was happier than I’d seen him in a very long time, Miss Carstairs. And for that, I believe you are the cause.”
“Please…call me Emma. I’m not terribly…well, I’m not at all much for organized religion. I know it’s important to a lot of people and…and if it’s used to help people instead of simply lecture them, then you have my support without hesitation. I’ve seen too many calling themselves Christians who watched people suffer and do nothing,” Emma pulled her attention back, closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you.”
“No offense taken whatsoever. I’d much rather you be honest with me. As for your statement, I agree completely.”
“I’ll help you in any way I can take care of people in need, I promise you that. I’m just…”
“It’s all right, Emma,” he crossed the room and took her hands where they were twisting in front of her. “I’m not about to convert you or even try.”
Emma smiled, memories of the past intruding and making her eyes water. “I suppose it makes sense that Lucas would attract a progressive preacher. I’ve had some bad experiences, is all. But I won’t let the people Lucas believes are his responsibility suffer…if that makes sense. Sometimes I tend to babble…especially when I’m worried about him.”
“Was that his father I heard in the coach?”
“I don’t know,” she turned and began pacing again. “I think so. Judging by how Brock and Mr. Harris were guarding the front door. The thing is, I can’t figure out what they’re after. Why he…they…worked so hard to force Lucas to get married. It isn’t like he shows any real concern for him. And I can’t remember what or why my father is behaving this way. I don’t even know the man!”
“I’d heard of the carriage accident and visited twice, but you were unconscious. Nancy is friends with my daughter, so we’re kept apprised of the goings-on around the manor,” he answered the surprise on her face.
“I don’t know that it would help to remember,” she admitted with a sigh, striding to one of the armed straight-back chairs and sinking down. “I suppose it would only arm me a little better. I…” Her head went up when the next sound was the slamming of the main doors.
“I swear to you, the bastard is up to something, Harris,” Lucas’ voice echoed off the halls. “And what the reprobate of a father is trying to pull where Emma…” heavy footsteps came to a stop at the door to the library, his sigh thick. “Reverend Finmore. I am terribly sorry.”
“Are you alright, Lucas?” Emma let her gaze travel from head to toe on him, settling on the thumping pulse at his throat.
“All the better because of you, my sweet.” Lucas crossed to her and pulled her into his arms. “I’ve sent them packing. Again. My father has been to visit this manor twice in six years past and both times, he and your father are playing the game that their sole purpose in life is to be concerned for your well-being.”
“Me?” She eased out of his hold, eyebrows raised and pure skepticism on her face. “Uh-huh…and they both suddenly are concerned about me?”
“Such a sweet expression,” Lucas tapped her cheek and laughed. “You never fail to delight.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled the small box with their rings inside. “I have the rings, Reverend. Harris, would you ask Nancy to stand as witness, please.”
“I…Lucas…” Emma looked at him, blinking and blinking some more. “Now? You want to have the wedding now?”
“You said you weren’t interested in anything where you had to waltz down an aisle worried about falling head over…” his words came to a stop when her palm came up and covered his lips.
Emma felt his smile behind her palm and scowled at him. “Yes, I do recall those words. I’m not one of those females where the ‘day’ is more i
mportant than all the ones following.”
“Then, yes, today. I’ve the special license and you’re over the age of consent.”
“Another advantage would be it puts you in complete control of Emma, should her father cause problems,” Reverend Finmore said carefully.
“In control?” Emma felt the words ooze from her lips. “Of all the sexist, misogynistic crap…” She glared at Lucas over the palm now covering her lips.
“Don’t mind my independent little sprite, Reverend,” Lucas teased with a wink that made the reverend laugh.
Emma sighed and leaned her head into his palm, words mumbled behind his fingers making him remove the hand.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s not meant badly. At least not by you two,” she said quietly. Married, she thought, when a giggling Nancy came rushing into the room.
“Well, it appears we’re in need of some festive behavior,” Reverend Finmore declared, pulling an envelope from an inner pocket of his jacket. “If I can have your witness signatures and the signatures of the bride and groom, we can have a peaceful ceremony.”
“Thank you for coming out, Reverend,” Lucas said, lifting the pen from his desk and handing it Emma. He tapped the line and watched her carefully write out her name in a flowing, feminine form before taking the pen and scrawling his signature next. “I must apologize for keeping you waiting. Unexpected visitors…” Lucas shook his head and nodded to Harris.
Emma felt a little light headed as she watched everything unfold. Words went on around her as she thought of the life before and the now being spread out in front of her. She stared at Lucas, watched his lips move as he repeated the vows and woke to say her part when he smiled and gently stroked his hand over the side of her face.
She stared at the ring he’d slid onto her finger and then at the one she placed on his, lost in too many thoughts at once. She heard their voices; shook hands and accepted hugs of congratulations.
“Will you join us in champagne, Reverend?”
“A lovely offer, Lucas, but I’ve appointments this afternoon. Should I hear anything, though, I’ll be certain to send word to you immediately.”
“Thank you. Harris will see you out,” Lucas said, turning his attention to Emma. He’d gently pressed her into one of the hardback chairs. He dropped to one knee in front of her, his hands framing her face. “Emma?”
“Yes?”
Dark lashes blinked and looked at him and then down at her hand.
“You’ve been very quiet, sweet…what’s wrong?”
“It still seems like a dream, Lucas,” she answered simply, dark lashes lowered for a moment. “That was your father outside, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” he admitted, amazed at how quickly their private dream could turn on them.
“What does he want?”
“I know what he says, Emma. However, I do not know the truth,” Lucas stood up, his palm grazing her skirt. Their attention was on the rustling sound that came from her pocket and she reached inside to pull out the folded paper.
“Someone was handing them out in town,” she said with a shrug, about to stuff it away when he extended his hand and took it from her. “We’re married.”
“We are married, sweet,” Lucas agreed with a teasing grin that faded as he quickly read the print on the paper.
“Excuse me,” Nancy tapped on the door, smiling from one to the other. “The things you purchased in town have been delivered, miss…oh, it’s milady now…”
“You’re going to confuse me terribly, Nancy. Miss is fine if you won’t call me Emma,” she said with a laugh at the shocked look on the servant’s face.
“I’ve put them in the room you asked for. I was working on it while you were out,” Nancy said with a nod. “I think we found things to fit what you wanted,” she said with a proud smile.
“Oh, that’s excellent. I’ll collect my books and come right away to see.”
Lucas stepped back and held her hand a moment longer. “I’m going to work on a few things here, Emma. If you need something, please ask Harris or Nancy. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Emma nodded and quickly followed Nancy.
Chapter Seventeen
Lucas listened to their voices trail off before he went to the door, one hand up as Harris went toward the stairs.
“Close the door,” Lucas told him when he came to the library. “Emma picked this up in town,” he told Harris, handing him the flyer that Emma had been carrying in her pocket.
“A bank robbery in London,” Harris read quietly. “Three days before the wager of Miss Emma and the hi-jacking of her carriage.”
“A little too coincidental for my tastes.” Lucas moved around and sat behind his desk. He pulled a sheet of paper in front of him and lifted his pen. “We need a time line. When did Daniel begin his apprenticeship?”
Jules Harris tucked his hands behind him and paced, lips pursed in thought.
“Approximately two months past,” he said with a firm nod.
“Before my father took off for his ‘health’ trip to America,” Lucas began jotting things on the paper.
“You honestly believe your father and Carstairs are involved in a bank robbery?”
“My father loathes being beholden to me for his existence,” Lucas stated without doubt. “I seriously doubt he will ever admit to the shortcomings in his life, gambling and expensive tastes, being only two of them.”
“But to conduct such a theft,” Harris shook his head. “He’s looking at hanging.”
“He’s too arrogant to believe he’d be caught,” Lucas looked at the items he’d written. “He wouldn’t be able to convince any of his cronies of such a scheme.”
“Perhaps he was approached by someone.”
“Why did Daniel come to us?” Lucas’ brow knit in thought. “Where was he before us?”
“I did an investigation.” Harris stared at Lucas. “He was a dealer in the club where your father and Carstairs had their games of chance.”
“Bloody hell,” Lucas hung his head. “What if they were approached? What if they were used by someone…”
“It never dawned on me to consider his previous employment, even after I conducted the investigation on Carstairs and your father. I should have seen the connection but it appeared farfetched, at best.”
“When two million British pounds are involved, I don’t consider anything farfetched,” Lucas leaned back in his chair, one hand up and opening the top three buttons on his shirt. “Even a portion of that, managed well, would provide a decent living for several people.”
“So if we consider a plot for this wild scheme…”
“They needed an alibi…and a way to hide the money once they had it…and a way to transport it to another location,” Lucas turned to look at the early evening sun outside his window. “They were nothing more complex than a pair of gamblers. One was a father looking for a bride for his son; the other a man with a daughter to be wagered off. And Emma was disposable.”
“So Daniel was sent to us on purpose. Do you believe he was the one who scaled Emma’s balcony the other night?”
“Judging by the foot prints in the dirt, I don’t think so. They’re much larger.”
“We’ve no idea how many people are involved in this,” Harris continued pacing.
“I have strong doubts either my father or Carstairs concocted this scheme on their own, which means there is a mastermind behind the bank theft. One probably very anxious for their money and extremely disturbed that the plan has gone seriously awry,” Lucas concluded with a frown. “Climbing Emma’s balcony was deliberate, but Emma is not the target. Her trunk is.”
“And they keep trying to gain access to the trunks by displaying how concerned they are about both you and your new bride.” Harris shook his head. “We should fear for future generations if this sort of parenting is considered acceptable.”
“Tomorrow send someone you trust to London and contact Scotland Yard. I’ll compose a letter of inquiry,”
Lucas pulled a sheet of stationary from his desk drawer and prepared to write. “Perhaps one of their people can deal with this.”
“The scandal…”
“I’ll compose a letter to be delivered to my mother as well. What she has had to endure because of her husband is unconscionable.”
“I’ll see that the guards are alert and tightened up,” Harris said quietly, leaving Lucas to write.
Lucas finished both letters and set his personal seal on the envelopes before leaving them in Harris’s hands.
“Dismiss the staff until eight in the morning. Have Mrs. Neilson leave our dinner in the warming oven. We’ll manage on our own,” he instructed, his hands sunk in the pockets of his trousers. “Lock down the house and have a good evening.”
“Good night,” Harris said with a nod. “And a hearty congratulations, Lucas.”
“Thank you, my friend. Thank you.”
Lucas wandered through the house, mentally noting things to be done; repairs and changes. Until he came to the entrance to the old utility room where Emma had been set up. The floor was concrete and the windows large and now very clean. The dim light of a fading day filtered in and mingled with the shadows thrown off by the sconces on the walls.
A very long old wooden table had been brought in as well as several straight back chairs. She’d found two short book shelves in the store room and added them to her quiet little workshop. She was perched on a stool, feet tucked on a lower rung and head bent as she wrote notes in one of her new books.
He really did like her new haircut. He liked the way it allowed her face to be free for his view and how her features appeared truly pixie-like and ethereal, although the thoughts were there that she did resemble a much younger woman than the one he’d taken to his bed.
A trickle of light caught the new ring he’d slid onto her finger a short while ago and made him smile. His lady wife. His cock hardened and his blood felt suddenly too warm for his veins.
How had she captured him so completely? Captivated him to the point he thought of nothing but her? Like the pixie she portrayed, had she been sent to remind him of things other than work in this world? He wasn’t terribly religious or even philosophical. He was a scientist and had enjoyed being so, even when he had wandered into the more carnal side of his nature. A side of him she readily welcomed and encouraged without restraint.
Red Crystal Romance: #1 Emma Page 17
