Michael grinned. It was no more than he had expected. He continued reading.
It is not proper for a lady to ask such a thing, so I hope that my request is not met in judgment. With your permission, I would like to call over to your home tomorrow at noon so that I may apologize in person and perhaps enjoy your company a while longer.
Please inform the carrier of your reply.
Awaiting your response with anticipation,
Emma Shepherd
Folding the paper, Michael let out a sigh of satisfaction. What gentlewoman would invite herself to call to a man’s house unaccompanied? He knew the answer without much thought - a woman who had been caressed, a simple gesture that had the woman craving another touch, to which he would happily oblige. In fact, she would find herself craving even more from him.
“My lord?” the young boy asked. “What should I tell the lady?”
Michael grinned, for though the clouds on the horizon had become gray with an approaching storm, he felt as though it was as bright as a summer’s day.
“There is much to say,” he replied. “But nothing your young ears should hear.” The boy gave him a confused look, and Michael added, “Tell her my answer is simple. Tell her I say yes.”
The boy nodded, gave a quick bow and ran off.
Michael leaned against the column of the portico, not caring that the wind blew with a sharp chill. It had been some time since he wagered and won. Perhaps his good fortune was making a turn-about, for tomorrow the woman would arrive alone.
And as he thought of that, he placed a new and silent wager. No matter the cost of words, he would woo the woman into his bed. Perhaps, like many years before, this time his creed would come true and he would win this wager.
Chapter Three
Miss Emma Shepherd, like her sisters, had been brought up with the strictest of rules and she had never dared to break any of them. In fact, it had always brought her great joy to know she was an obedient child. Yet, those rules had been broken starting eighteen months earlier, when she and her sisters, Constance and Mary, had escaped into the night from their home of Lankster Manor.
From there, the sisters had broken every societal rule imaginable, from wearing men’s clothing to partaking in gaming as well as spying.
Though Emma would deny it if she were ever asked, she enjoyed the life they currently lived. There was a certain thrill that came over her when she broke a rule and today would be no different. She had sent a letter the day before and received a quick reply to call on the home of Lord Michael Bracken.
To call alone was unheard of for a lady, and if she were caught, it would bring great shame upon her name and that of her family. Yet, Emma did not worry much about someone learning of her misdeed, for the weather would take care of that problem. The sky was an ugly dark gray and the wind bitterly cold, keeping most people except traveling merchants inside their homes. Plus, who would she see as her horse moved across the field toward Lord Bracken’s house? The properties were private enough.
Stopping the horse at the top of a hill, Emma pulled her coat in tighter and tried to fight off a shiver. The `wind picked up and carried with it not only a howl, but the first snowflakes. Large beautiful flakes fell around her in an almost lazy fashion, and Emma tried for a moment to count them.
“Just my luck,” she whispered looking at her surroundings. If one were to travel along the road, the journey to Lord Bracken’s house was an hour and a half, but it was only an hour through the fields that connected the two properties. She guessed she was halfway there.
To keep her mind occupied, she thought back to two days ago, when she and Stephen had called on the baron. It was during their conversation that she found the man’s eyes lingering on her and in truth it brought about a certain thrill. Each time she smiled, his grin widened. The man was enamored with her and Emma would use that to convince him to sell his land to Stephen. She would have to endure his gaze, which in truth she did not mind, for it made her feel warm inside.
Yet as she thought these things, a chill came over her, one caused not by the wind. Rumors were persistent that he had killed his wife, and though Emma had learned that many rumors that circulated amongst the ton were false, she was unsure what to think of him. His house was in shambles, his furnishings sparse, and he appeared mad. Was he a man who perhaps lived alone out of guilt? To learn the truth about him would be just one more reward she could gain from this visit.
Shaking her head, she gasped as the falling snowflakes began to increase. The ground was now a thin blanket of white. Looking back the way she had come, she had but two choices. Either go ahead with her plan or turn around and head back home.
What awaited her there at home besides a butler who snored at the doorway? Empty rooms and a small fire burning in the fireplace. Then, in a few weeks Constance would return and Emma would have no good news to tell her. In fact, Emma would have to start allowing more suitors to call over and she would be forced to listen to their boring tales. This could be her last chance for an adventure before her life became mundane.
Then she smiled, thinking of another idea. What if Constance were to return and Emma shared with her how she had used her smile and beauty to get the man to agree to selling his land?
At first Constance would be horrified knowing what Emma had done. Yet, had that not been the very reason her sister had sent her to Lord Bracken’s house in the first place? Perhaps Constance would be happy and Emma would use that confidence to smile even more. All of that in turn would attract a proper gentleman, not a drunk like Lord Bracken.
“Come, Daisy,” Emma said, having made her decision. She gave the horse a gentle nudge with the heels of her riding boots. “I must get to Lord Bracken's before this storm worsens.”
***
There were many reasons a young woman should listen to her older sister as to why she should not leave the house alone, and Emma had been warned on several occasions why having a companion accompany her was imperative.
For one, having another party with her would alleviate any rumors that she had been inappropriate in any manner. Secondly, she would be less likely to be accosted by highwaymen if she were not alone.
However, neither of those reasons was what ill fate she faced at this moment. Above her the weather raged, the snow falling in a steady sheet and quickly piling around her. What had begun as a lovely fluttering of snow had turned into a much worse fate.
Looking to her left and then her right, she let out a cry of despair. “I cannot see a thing!” she shouted to Daisy. “We are lost.”
The fact was unsettling as Emma tried in vain to make out anything familiar of the landscape. She could not even see a single tree. Would she ever find Lord Bracken's house? Oh, why had she not taken the main road, even if it took longer?
“Because I’m stubborn, that is why,” she murmured.
Wiping at her eye, her cheeks burned from the cold wind and she swore that she would never travel alone again. Yet, how would her situation have changed if poor Betty or Ingrid had been forced to join her? That would have only left all of them lost and cold instead of just her, and that would have been unfair to the maids.
With a gentle nudge, Daisy moved forward as Emma continued to search for any sign of the trees she knew had to be soon coming into view. Had she not seen the wooded area behind Lord Bracken’s house when she, Constance, and Stephen had called on the man? At this point, any wooded area would be welcome. At least the trees would protect her from the slashing snow.
The horse moved at a steady but slow pace, and Emma glanced at the dark sky as it disappeared behind the falling snow. There was no chance that the sun would appear anytime soon and her surroundings were hidden behind the heavy veil of falling snow that nearly blinded her.
“Daisy,” she said, “if I ever try to leave again by myself, you must not allow me.” The horse snorted as in rebuke. “I swear it!”
A moment later Emma heard a noise that caused Daisy to stop of her own a
ccord. Looking about, Emma could see nothing except the steady downpour of snowflakes, many hitting her face. Brushing them from her sleeve - as if that would do any good! - she said. “What is it, Daisy? Is it another horse?”
Then the sound came again and there was no mistake. It was a howl.
Fear gripped Emma, threatening to choke the life out of her. “Daisy…” she started to say, but the horse gave a terrified whinny and lifted its forelegs into the air. The movement was so sudden, Emma did not have time to grasp the pommel of her saddle and she fell crashing to the ground. The air left her lungs and terror gripped her throat as Daisy snorted, gave another kick and ran off into the whiteness that surrounded them.
“No! Come back!” Emma cried as the horse disappeared from sight. She stood and brushed herself off. Which way had Daisy gone? And how far was she from the home of Lord Bracken? If only she had a way to get her bearings so she could know at least the direction she should take.
Then the howl came again, a haunting sound that made Emma stiffen. This time she could see what had made that sound. Perhaps thirty paces in front of her were three gray wolves. They lowered their heads, a deep growling bubbling in their throats. Emma could do nothing more than take a step back, but her foot slid on a patch of ice and she tumbled onto her backside.
Before she knew what was happening, a loud crack! was her only warning before the ground beneath her gave way.
She screamed just as her body plummeted into the frigid water beneath the now broken ice. Panic and cold unlike any she had ever experienced overtook her and her hands flailed about as she reached out in search of anything, even the smallest plant, to grasp hold of, but there was nothing.
The wolves howled as if in reply, but they kept their distance.
She kicked her feet and her head emerged long enough for her to yell, “Someone! Please, help me!” She wanted to cry, but her body was too cold to allow tears to escape.
Again, Emma sank beneath the freezing water, but she no longer felt the cold. She no longer felt anything, which terrified her all the more, and she kicked with every ounce of her being.
Emerging just long enough to see the wolves staring at her with their golden eyes as they licked their chops, a horrible realization came over her. She was going to die.
An incredible sadness filled her. She regretted not being able to see her sisters again and to tell them how much she loved them. To see the children they would one day have. To meet the man she was to marry. To see her own children grow.
Worst of all, unlike in her dreams, no hero was coming to rescue her.
Chapter Four
Michael regretted the trip he took into town for supplies. The snowstorm that had come in was making his journey home difficult. All perception of distance was lost, though the road that led to his house was still somewhat visible if he kept his head low and looked down at the ground before him.
He had considered taking a path that he preferred because it kept him from being forced to encounter others along the way, but he did not want to be caught in such a storm unable see what was before him.
A song played in his mind as he raised the silver flask to toast the storm.
There once was a man so wise
That his life fell into demise.
He thought of a plan
Which he was sure was grand
And he now carries a flask in his hand!
He laughed and took a swig as Balder, his stallion, marched forward.
“But he also carried a pistol!” he shouted to the storm. “For he knows the ways of men are evil!” The storm responded with nothing more than more snow.
Sighing, he patted Balder, who let out a loud snort as Michael took another drink, his mind turning to Miss Emma, who would be at his house today.
He returned the flask to his coat pocket. “No one is coming to your home in this weather,” he said. Who would be foolish enough to be out in such conditions?
Balder snorted again as if to remind Michael that he, in fact, was foolish enough.
Michael had not always been foolish. Many years ago, he had been considered quite wise for his years when it came to his choices of business dealings, investments in mines, even the company of friends he had kept. A man must take many steps to become wise, yet it only took one or two missteps to make one a fool.
And what a fool he had become. He knew the rumors concerning the death of Caroline, his wife. Then there was the talk about his drinking. Many saw his vice as a problem, but Michael saw it as a way to numb the pain. Drinking was the one thing to which he looked forward. That is, until Miss Emma had come into his life. The beauty who had smiled at him would soon be in his bed, a very pleasing thought that caused a warmness to grow inside him despite the cold of his surroundings.
Snow continued to fall around him and large drifts formed against the trees. The roads would already be impassable by carriage. Not that such a problem bothered him. He owned no carriages.
A mournful bay of a wolf had Balder stop in his tracks, and Michael looked around for the source of the sound.
“Steady, boy,” he said, patting the horse’s neck. “You are fine.”
Balder shook his head violently to the left and then Michael heard another sound. “That is no wolf.” In fact, it sounded very much like a scream for help. Many years ago, Michael would hunt with friends, which had enabled him to locate the direction of any cry. Despite the low visibility, he flicked the reins and prodded with his boots, steering the stallion to the left.
The snow was deeper here, and as they pushed forward, the cry for help came again, this time weaker. There was no doubt it was not only human, but it was a woman.
Urging Balder ahead, they cut through a small thicket of trees, and Michael stopped not fifteen paces from a trio of wolves that paced back and forth. Squinting out into the blizzard, he saw why. A beck ran behind his house, and at one point, it widened and deepened to create a body of water. Someone lay grasping a root that had grown out from the bank.
The person was most certainly a female, for no man would wear such a hat covered in flowers and fruit. And it was not just any female but rather Miss Emma!
Michael threw himself from the saddle. The woman would die in the freezing current if he did not get to her soon. The wolves bared their teeth and took a step toward him.
“Which one of you is the leader?” he asked as he reached into his coat pocket and produced a pistol he kept on him at all times.
As if understanding his question, one moved ahead of the others, and before Michael could react, it leaped into the air and agonizing pain radiated up his arm. Even as he fought the leader, another joined him, swiping a claw across Michael’s open coat and tearing through his shirt, sending a fiery sting across his chest.
Without thought, Michael curled his hand around the handle of the pistol and struck the muzzle of the animal latched onto his arm. It gave a great yelp as it released its jaw, and Michael sent a shot into the air, sending the beasts scurrying off into the woods.
Michael dropped the pistol and rushed to Emma, who lay partially on the ice, the lower part of her body still in the water. Her lips were blue and her eyes closed, and he prayed she was not already dead.
The ice crackled beneath his weight, and he jumped back, fearing it would break further, sending the poor Miss Emma back into the freezing water.
Sitting on his bottom, he scooted closer, grabbed hold of her wrist, and pulled. His back groaned as muscles not used in many years came to life. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his arm and chest as he pulled harder. An eternity seemed to pass as he dug his heals into the dirt of the embankment. Pulling with all his might as he moved away from the cracking edges of the hole, he dragged her lifeless form from the freezing waters.
When he had her safely on the bank, he let out a low whistle, praying Balder would heed his call. When the horse did not show, Michael let out a growl of frustration and leaned over the woman. He felt for a pulse and was pleas
ed to find one, though it was weak. It would not take long before she succumbed to the cold.
“I will not allow you to die,” he whispered. He lifted her into his arms and began the short journey to his house. “You are safe now.” Staring down at the lovely face pressed against his chest, the ice that covered his heart weakened.
I will do something right for once.
As he stepped through the relative comfort of the woods, she stirred long enough to whisper a single word that made him frown in confusion.
“Hero.”
***
Emma had the most horrifying, yet wonderful, dream. In it, she ran through snow while pursued by wolves. It had seemed so real. Her heart had raced with fear, tears streaming down her face, and she had given up all hope of survival. The world had disappeared before her eyes as a numbing cold took over her body, and she was certain she would die.
That is, until her hero arrived.
The man was strong, brave, and handsome. He had fought off the wolves with his bare hands, caring nothing for the danger in which he put himself. That was the mark of a true hero, putting his life before that of others. To love a woman to such a height that he would do anything for her was more than she could have ever asked of any man.
Those same strong hands that had defended her then pulled her from the icy waters and held her close against his broad chest.
“I will not allow you to die,” he had said. “You are safe now.” In his arms, she would indeed remain safe.
Yet, as in the stories she had read and created in her dreams, it was time for the hero’s reward. What could she offer one worthy of such a deed?
Her heart fluttered, for in her dream, she was lying beside the man who had saved her, both of them bereft of clothing as he wrapped strong arms around her in comfort and protection. Yet, there was also a possessiveness in his hold that caused her desire for him to grow even stronger.
Barons Always Win Wagers (Forbidden Kisses Book 3) Page 3
