He winced again.
He should ask once more and give her a real choice.
For Emily’s part, she’d gone quiet and much of the rosiness had left her cheeks.
They reached her family and leaning over to Bash, he spoke quietly in the man’s ear. “I don’t think Emily feels well.”
“Have you met your obligations here tonight?” Bash asked, giving him an easy smile. It was one Brandon had never seen on the man.
“I have.” Then he quirked a brow. “Enjoying yourself?”
“I am,” he answered. “All four Carrington sisters are married or engaged. I only have Avery left to contend with and months to come up with a plan. I can now sit back and enjoy my marriage.”
The other man eyed his wife.
“Will you allow me to escort Emily home? We are now an engaged couple, but if you’re more comfortable, Aunt Mildred could chaperone.”
Bash frowned but gave a terse nod. “I do believe Isabella would like to stay and Abigail needs a chance to get to know Blasphemy.”
“Word of advice,” Brandon said, turning away from the sisters. “Call him by his actual name if you want them to soften toward the man.”
Bash scratched his chin. “I’m not even certain I know his actual name.”
Brandon turned back to Emily. “I’ll find your aunt. I think it’s time to take you home.” She gave a terse nod, but her shoulders slumped in relief.
Half an hour later, he had the two women bundled into the carriage. A very tired-looking Emily and an irritated aunt.
But he settled across from them, watching the woman he’d chosen for his wife.
She was clearly upset, and he knew why. He was an ass. Worse. He wasn’t being honest about this past.
He cleared his throat. “You made a favorable impression on our king.”
She didn’t look at him. “Aunt Mildred can tell you that I frequently make a good first impression.”
“She does,” Aunt Mildred said, giving him a large, albeit disingenuous smile. “But none of the men who has shown an interest has been as charming or handsome as you.”
Emily sighed. “None of those other men seemed to stay by my side for very long either.”
“Their loss,” he rumbled, his eyes squinting as he stared at her. He knew that meant something but what?
She didn’t respond as the carriage slowed on a busy thoroughfare. “How strange,” she murmured. “Those men are weaving through the carriages on foot.”
He parted the curtain on his side, looking out. Sure enough, four men headed their way; and worse still, they were all staring fixedly at his carriage. “Damn it all to bloody hell.”
“What is it?” she asked, sitting forward.
Aunt Mildred gasped. “I don’t know why I ever get in a carriage with you people.”
He rapped on the wall. “Get us out of here, now!” Then he drew a Derringer from his waist.
The whip cracked and the horses whinnied. “Where, Your Grace?” the driver called back. “Most ways are blocked.”
“Just go,” he barked, every muscle tensing. The men had nearly reached the carriage. One had reached the back corner while another was coming around the side toward the door.
Brandon watched as the man pulled out a pistol and then reached for the door.
Brandon grabbed the door and swung it open with a quick jerk, knocking the man to the ground. Then he jerked the door closed again.
Just then the vehicle lurched forward, taking a sharp turn down an alley.
The sound of a shot filled the air, and muffled screams followed them as they began to speed away.
Brandon looked out the window again. The men and the crowd disappeared.
“Will anyone follow?” the driver called back.
“I don’t know,” he answered, his eyes meeting Emily’s. Her face was now ghostly white. She was in danger. That he knew. “I’m not sure we should return to Bash and Isabella’s.”
“Why?” Emily asked, leaning toward him.
He took her hands in his. “They might be waiting to ambush us there.”
“But my sisters,” she gasped.
“Will be at the palace for hours. We’ll send word to Bash there. But right now, we need to get you to safety. And I know just where.”
“That’s all well and good, but I’d like to know the why and the who. Who attacked us and why would they want to?”
“Arrests were being made today.” He grimaced. “They should all be in prison.”
Emily gasped. “What should we do?”
He raked a hand through his hair then tapped to signal the driver again. “Head toward the docks.”
“The docks?” she said, her voice trembling.
“Oh no.” Aunt Mildred shook her finger. “This was not part of my contract. Sea voyages were definitely not listed.”
“Stay on the docks then,” Brandon gritted out. “But Emily and I are headed to where she will be safe.”
He would not make a mistake again. He’d put her safety first. Above everything else. They needed to leave London.
He’d deal with all the other consequences after she was safe.
Chapter Ten
Emily stood on the bow of the Return looking out at the inky sky. The captain said the sun would rise soon but it was dark, she could hardly believe it.
A cold, stiff wind pulled at her skin and hair, but she ignored its bite.
Aunt Mildred had been tucked into a cabin, rather grumpily complaining about a lack of clothing and Brandon had sent a hastily penned note to Bash warning him of the attack, but she had no idea if her family had made it home safe.
She drew in a shuddering breath.
She understood why he’d shuttled them off onto this boat. Mostly because he’d explained it several times at length.
But it wasn’t in her nature to leave her sisters like this.
Brandon had said the attacks had focused on her. True. And that she might be drawing danger away from her sisters. Hopefully.
But what if she were just leaving them to bear the brunt? What if they now focused their efforts on Abigail?
Emily’s breath stalled in her chest. It was for her safety that he was packing her off to who knew where.
And their nuptials? She hadn’t a clue. Would they marry now? Later? Not at all?
She sighed. Why was she never in control?
Yes, she was a woman, but her sisters seemed to manage their lives just fine.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry Brandon. She did. But he wanted her for all the wrong reasons and her heart knew something wasn’t right.
“You should get some rest.” Brandon came up behind her.
He didn’t touch her, but she stiffened away slightly, her irritation rising to the surface. “I’m not tired.” The truth was, she was exhausted. Deep-down-to-the-bone tired. But she didn’t wish to admit such a weakness now.
She reached for the rail, her hand wrapped about it, her grip tight. With her sisters, she’d always been the accommodating one. The one who smoothed, who compromised.
But if she took that role now, with Brandon, that would be her life. She’d never escape it.
“Humor me then. Tomorrow, or rather today, is going to be a busy day and—”
“Why?” she asked, turning then. Standing on the deck he was even more handsome. He’d changed from his evening wear and he wore the casual clothes of a sailor as the wind ruffled his hair.
She was in her ballgown still with a pelisse meant to be pretty rather than warm. Even in her gloves her hands were half frozen.
He looked so strong and…warm. Her resolve faltered. It would be so easy to fall into his arms. Let him and his strength carry her away.
He was the sort who would do it. He’d shield her for her entire life. Did she need that sort of protection?
And what of him?
She’d hesitated because she wasn’t certain she was the best choice for him either. What if her weakness caused
them both heartache?
“Emily.” He stepped closer then. “I thought we might marry today.”
She blinked several times. “Marry? Today? But…” She shivered, the cold air on her skin not the primary reason for the reaction, but he slipped his coat off and pulled it tight around her shoulders. Heat and his scent wrapped about her.
“I know it’s sudden, but the captain can officiate and—”
“No,” she answered. “I don’t think this is a wise plan.”
He drew back a bit. “We’ve sailed off together. It’s the only plan.”
Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her chin. She knew she looked like Eliza but…her sister did some things very well. “It is not.”
“What else might you do?” His arms crossed as he made a point of looking down at her. Or perhaps that was just his height.
“My aunt is here. I’m chaperoned. And if society doesn’t accept that, I could become a spinster. I could—”
She did not imagine the way his jaw clenched. “You would rather be a spinster than marry me?”
That made her gasp. That wasn’t what she meant at all. “I would rather assert myself than be forced into something. We need to make these decisions together. You’re talking not just about the events of today, but about my entire life. Our entire life. I’m tired of everyone telling me what to do all the time without consulting me.”
He winced and then scrubbed his face. “I see.”
Had she just wounded him? He’d sounded hurt, his voice tight. “Things are always happening to me. Tonight. I’ve not made a single choice.”
He slid a hand under her elbow. “I didn’t mean to take your choices away.” A muscle in his jaw ticced. “I’m sorry that I did.”
She shook her head, her own hands coming up to rub her temples. “You’re right. I am tired. Perhaps we should discuss this after some rest?”
“Of course,” he answered. He pulled her closer and his lips just brushed her temple. “Let me show you to your cabin.”
She let out a breath as she nodded. He held her elbow as they crossed the deck and then lifted her into his arms to carry her below deck.
Their bodies pressed together and even as tired as she was, hers shuddered at his touch, his body sending ripples of awareness through her.
It made her forget why she was resisting.
He was a duke, for heaven’s sake.
He was her hero.
She let out a sigh as he didn’t bother to set her down. She should insist on walking, but he was strong and warm, and she was tired.
Laying her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes.
She’d never be Eliza. But she had to have a say in her marriage. How was she going to stand her ground when everything about him was so inviting?
Brandon opened the door to her cabin and set her down. She swayed on her feet and he cursed himself for waiting so long to bring her below deck.
He’d been giving her space to think.
He deserved her irritation. He’d forced her on several fronts, and he knew it. Ones she wasn’t even aware of yet. Ones that would make her far angrier than she was now.
This entire time he’d been trying to prove that he wasn’t his father’s son, but he’d gone and done exactly what his father might do, he’d selfishly trapped her in a situation she didn’t want.
The realization rocked him, and his jaw clenched, a muscle ticcing in his cheek. He was a cad. Worse. He was as bad as those thieves.
But if she married him, he’d give her everything she ever wanted in life. He amended to that this very moment.
He slid his jacket off her shoulders, checking her skin to make certain she was warm enough. “Thank you,” she murmured as her hand twisted behind her back to the top pearl button on her dress. Even fully functioning, she’d have a difficult time getting those buttons undone on her own. But he knew she must be exhausted.
He saw her hand drop again as she eyed the bed.
“Do you need help?” he asked, stepping closer again.
She shook her head. “I’ll just sleep in my dress. I don’t have anything else to wear anyhow.”
He shook his head and crossed to a small bank of built-in drawers. Then he pulled out a fresh shirt. Crossing back over to her, he raised a brow. “This is normally my cabin.”
“It’s lovely,” she said, her gaze barely sweeping across the sparse décor as she sighed.
“May I?” he said, his fingers lightly touching the nape of her neck.
She clutched her hands to her chest. “May you what?”
“Take off your dress,” he replied, trying to hide a smile.
Her face turned pink as a blush crept up her cheeks. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“You’ll sleep better without a dress and corset on,” he replied. “And we forgot to bring you a maid.”
She gave a quick laugh at that. “Our departure was a bit rushed.” Then she swallowed, her throat working. “It isn’t proper,” she finally said.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t do a better job of asking your permission to bring you on this boat. Or for our marriage or…” He drew in a breath. “I’m far better at racing to the rescue than I am at slowing down and making room.”
He watched her shoulders droop. “I liked that you rescued me.”
“Then let me rescue you from this dress right now.” He brushed his hand down her arm. “I’ll leave you to take care of the rest.”
She gave a tentative nod and then turned. He began working his way down the buttons of the dress. “I just want to know that I’ll have choices. You saw Eliza. Isabella’s different but…” She stopped. “They make all the decisions. They take all the risks. I want to know that I am capable too. But I need room to make choices, mistakes, if I’m ever going to learn how.”
He removed her bodice and began working on her skirt. Brandon’s chest was tight with emotion. “You are capable of great compassion. More than I have ever seen. It humbles me.”
She turned toward him then, her gaze colliding with his. “Compassion does not give anyone control.”
“Not true,” he answered as he found himself sinking to his knees. She was still in her corset and her petticoats, but he pressed his forehead to her stomach. “Do you know what I would do, what I would give to keep you at my side? You have immense control over me.”
She gasped, even as her hands curled into his hair. “I didn’t think you cared for me like that. I thought I was just a means to an end.”
He held either side of her waist, as he tilted his head back to look at her. “Emily.” Her name came out rough. “I did not race to your rescue twice because I don’t care. I…” He was revealing too much.
The words were liable to start an avalanche of others.
And then he’d be begging her forgiveness for being so like his father. And she’d surely reject him after she knew what he’d put her family through.
She already suspected he was only serving himself. It’s why she felt so out of control. If he told her…Emily might very well leave him.
She ran her hands through his hair, cradling the base of his skull. “That does change things.”
“How?” he asked very quietly as he held his breath.
Emily lightly massaged his scalp. “I accept your proposal.”
Relief made him weak as he leaned his forehead against her stomach again. “Excellent.”
“But I have some conditions.”
He didn’t move. “Such as.”
“If you want to marry on the boat, I’ll concede but we need to have another ceremony with my sisters.”
“Done,” he answered, wrapping his arms about her waist. “What else?”
“I’ll have a say in the business and money that is my own. Also, each child we have must have an inheritance set aside at birth.”
That surprised him. He titled his head back. “You want control of the business?”
“I want to be part of it. To understand it.” She slid her han
ds to his cheeks. “I was left penniless and my sisters kept us from starving but…” She shook her head. “We should have had access to money. I’ll never be in that situation again and neither will any of my future daughters. They need choices.”
His throat closed and he swallowed a lump.
How had he not realized this? She’d been at the mercy of this world and he’d been taking more choices from her from the moment he’d walked into her life. “I concede.”
He understood her need. He’d been working for years to get his life back. And he’d hold his end of the bargain. But she should know how he’d taken advantage of this situation.
He should tell her the truth.
But he just couldn’t.
Chapter Eleven
Emily woke to sunshine streaming in through a porthole.
While the boat rocked, it was a slight movement that was far gentler than when she’d gone to bed.
She stood and glanced out the tiny window, expecting to see ocean. Instead, another ship blocked her view. Were they in port?
She’d have to wait to find out. She wore one of Brandon’s shirts, which only fell to mid-thigh, her legs entirely bare.
A soft knock sounded at the door. “Emily?” Brandon’s voice filled the cabin.
“Yes?” she turned.
“I’ve brought a dress for you.”
“Where are we?” she asked as she crossed the room.
“Just south of Harwich,” he answered as she opened the door a crack.
She must look a fright. She’d barely even braided her hair before collapsing into the bed. She could feel several lose strands about her face.
His gaze skimmed down her length, lingering on her legs. “Would you like someone to help you dress?”
Heat flamed in her cheeks. “No, thank you. Aunt Mildred can help me if it comes to that.”
He shook his head. “This ship is part of our fleet. You’re safe here and you needn’t call her your aunt while on board.”
Emily smiled at that. “I do believe her name is Caroline. She mentioned it once. But I have very little memory of the real Aunt Mildred, so it doesn’t matter.”
Duke of Dishonor: Lords of Scandal Page 8
