“Bloody bitch!” A hand came out to grab her when the slamming of a door sent the man’s attention focusing on the open door to her bedroom. He took one long look at the woman pushed as far into the corner as she could before he turned and raced back to the balcony, swinging up and over the side.
Emma heard more voices above even the gulping breaths she was taking, then the sound of pounding hooves disappearing in the distance.
“Emma!” Lucas hadn’t bothered to retrieve his spectacles and barely stepped into his trousers before catapulting himself from his bedroom and down the hall toward the blood-curdling scream.
Lucas saw her huddled in the corner seconds before she catapulted across the floor, her arms around his neck. His hands closed around her, crushing her against him.
“Someone climbed the balcony! I couldn’t see ‘cause I turned the lights out but he had on a mask…a kerchief over the lower part of his face,” Emma released her hands, stepping back when Lucas moved toward the balcony.
Lucas dropped to his heels, his fingers touching the bits of clay and sand left on the floor and stone of the balcony. He rose and gripped the rail, peering down as clouds cleared the moon and gave him the light he needed to see where the horses had stood and the men.
“There was more than one,” he said quietly, turning to look at her.
“I heard voices and woke up. I thought I was dreaming, though, until I heard some scraping,” Emma moved over next to him, her hands hitching the sheet around her as she moved so it wasn’t beneath her feet. “Then I heard horses so I hid behind the trunk…” she shifted when he turned to stare down at her. “Then I kind of screamed.”
“I’m going to check the doors. Stay here,” Lucas strode to the bedroom door, stopping when she came up short behind him, her eyes wide. “I said remain here, Emma.”
“But…”
This time her eyes grew even wider, his hands out before she could move and gripping her upper arms. Before she knew it, she was dangling just about her toes.
“Lucas…”
“I will not repeat myself, Emma. Remain here. And if you chose not to, I vow you will not sit for a week,” he watched his words impact her expression. “Have I made myself clear, Emma?”
Her head bobbed, her voice a quiet hushed sound.
“Yes. Yes, sir,” she answered instantly, breathing again when her feet touched the floor. She took a step back and watched him leave the room. Weapons, was the first thing that popped into her head when she could think again.
First, she went and closed the balcony doors, quickly setting the latch. Not that they would really keep someone out who was intent upon entering the house, though, she thought with a little frown. Her head bounced up when she heard his footsteps on the stairs, her heart hammering for an anxious minute before he appeared in the door frame.
“Nothing has been disturbed,” Lucas crossed the room and opened the balcony doors, stepping onto the stone and gripping the railing. He stared out in the direction of the hoof prints in the dirt.
“Do you have a gun?”
Lucas turned and looked at her, both brows up in surprise.
“No. Absolutely not,” he answered immediately.
“Have you been robbed before?” Emma frowned at his answer. For some silly reason she thought everyone in old times had guns. Or swords. “What about a sword? Do you have one?”
Lucas pushed a patient breath between his lips. “No, Emma, I do not have a sword.”
“A dagger?” She stared at him, one hand on her hip and her foot tapping impatiently. “What kind of…we need weapons. We need to arm ourselves. And a dog. A big, vicious dog…” she turned and paced across the room.
“We’ve never had a problem before,” Lucas frowned at that.
Emma opened her mouth and then closed it. “Not until I was here.”
“I did not say that.”
“But you’re thinking it,” she said quietly, her head tipped to the side. “I’m thinking it. If no one’s bothered you before now and the only thing that has changed in that equation is me, logic says it’s because of me…me and my father.”
“I’ll send for the constable in the morning,” Lucas answered, not arguing her logic.
“I’m sleeping in the library,” Emma declared, heading for the door after adjusting the sheet she was wrapped in.
“Emma, you cannot sleep in the library,” Lucas tried not to laugh but a tiny edge of humor was in his words.
“I’m not staying here. What if they come back? What if they came here to kidnap me? Although why they would want to kidnap me is baffling, still…they were after something and there’s nothing here but me. Other balcony doors are open in the house,” she met his gaze. “Aren’t they? But they chose this one? Why?”
“Emma…at the moment, I am tired. And we both need sleep,” Lucas moved to the bed, his hand on her arm and pulling her along with him. “So it appears we should sleep here where it’s much more comfortable than the library. Please.”
“You don’t want to talk about it,” she said, climbing onto the bed and pulling the light blanket over her, her nervous gaze shifting to the open doors. “You’re not going to close them? What if they come back?”
“I’m fairly certain you’ve managed to frighten them off for the night,” Lucas remarked, settling himself and pulling the other blanket over him. “Go to sleep, Emma.”
“I’m not sure you’re taking this seriously, Lucas.”
“There is nothing I can do about it at the moment. It’s almost two in the morning. Again,” Lucas yawned and closed his eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve had one solid night of sleep…” he stopped himself.
“Since I got here,” she finished the sentence for him, her head nodding and her sigh long. “Good night, Lucas.”
Lucas stared up for a quiet minute.
“Have you ever fired a gun, Emma?”
“No.” The answer was given grudgingly.
“Brandished a sword?”
“Good night, Lucas,” Emma responded stiffly, burying her face in the pillow and yawning, ignoring the deep chuckle at her side.
She shouldn’t have been surprised that she woke alone in the large bed. But she knew she was definitely getting used to the softness and warmth. Or maybe it was that dark scent of Lucas that lingered.
Emma stepped out of the bed and into the bathroom. A quick brush of her teeth and other necessities and she found a fresh pair of still adapting to the underwear of the time. She opened the top ribbon of her camisole and lifted the lid on the trunk with two hands.
Resolute, she thought. She had to be resolute about this situation. She was here and she needed to adapt. So she wanted the trunk empty. She pulled the shoes and boots out, tossed them toward the wardrobe. She lifted a few more books from the bottom, laid them on the bed and was about to close the lid when she stopped and stepped back.
Emma stared, head tipped and thick lashes blinking. She moved closer, looking inside and then back at the outside. She wasn’t tall enough to climb inside, but she could bend into the center and tap on the bottom of the trunk.
It was off. About five inches off.
On tip-toes, she ran her hands around the inside corners once and then once again, frowning when she found the tiny indents in the edge of the flat bottom. Just enough of an indent that she could insert a finger nail and lift. The bottom came up and fit the back of the trunk.
Emma pushed against the trunk, her head shaking as she turned and took off down the hall. Dark eyes took in the doors, trying to remember which one belonged to Lucas.
“Lucas!” Emma burst through the door and stopped, staring at the long straight razor Lucas was wielding along the length of his throat. He was bare from the waist up, a towel lying around his shoulders as he shaved.
“Emma, I’m not dressed…” Lucas finished the last swipe along his throat and tossed the razor into the basin, his hands going to the towel and patting down his face.
“Lucas, I’ve seen your chest before,” she said with a little shake of her head. She gripped his hand and pulled. “You have to come see this. It’s important,” she turned and tried to tug only to have her feet skid on the floor when he wouldn’t move.
“Let me finish dressing…”
“I don’t care about your chest being…” Emma stomped a foot and bounced against him when he still wouldn’t move forward. One palm came up and patted over his chest lightly. “It’s a really nice chest, Lucas, but right now I need you to come to my room and look at this.”
Lucas gave in, following behind her, their fingers twined as they walked. Or to be more precise, he walked; she pulled and tried to hurry him along.
“Lucas…look in the trunk,” she released his hand and moved behind him. She put her hands against his back and shoved. “Will you please stop being so stubborn?”
Lucas looked into the trunk; looked back at Emma and then into the trunk again.
“That’s British money, isn’t it?” Emma asked smugly, moving to the side and standing with her arms up and crossed over her chest.
“Emma, this is a great deal of British money,” Lucas dropped to his heels and ran his fingers over the bundled stacks of colorful pound notes in all denominations.
“The trunk had a fake bottom. I found it when I finished emptying my things. The depth perception was way off when I looked from the inside to the outside so I just started feeling around,” Emma sighed and paced the room. “Do you think the thief last night was looking for that?”
Lucas looked over at her, one hand up and raking through the dusky blonde hair.
“You don’t know where this came from?”
“Lucas, I didn’t know my name, remember? Do you have a safe? We should move it. Put it into a safe until we figure this out,” she said with a firm nod. “But don’t tell anyone. No one in the house. We can’t risk anyone knowing.”
“And why is that, Emma?”
“If it is mine, someone knows and wants it. If it isn’t mine, someone put it there and still wants it,” she said logically. “So either way, it’s a problem and the more people who know, the more danger the house is in. You said you’d never had a robbery before last night.”
“Which is true.”
“Which means they had to have known about the money. Otherwise, why break into my bedroom? Do you have a suitcase?” She saw the confused look and searched her vocabulary. “A carpetbag? A valise?”
“Yes, I have a fine valise.”
“You also have a safe,” Emma said without doubt.
“In the library,” Lucas confirmed, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets.
Emma bit the corner of her lip and stepped to stand in front of him, one palm up and stroking over his bare arm.
“This has something to do with our fathers, doesn’t it?” She met the steeled expression and just nodded. “A little too coincidental.”
“We will sort this out, Emma,” Lucas took her hands in his and cupped them together.
She didn’t know why but she knew she wanted to kiss him again. He had such a confident expression in his eyes that even with the doubt inside her, he was managing to make her feel there was someone watching out for her. Someone who wanted to protect her. Someone she was important to. That was something she’d always dreamt of feeling…important. Even if it was just for one person. And maybe even if it was just for a little, tiny bit of time. The warmth slowly traveling through her now was worth it.
“I believe you,” she said softly.
“I won’t permit them to harm you, Emma,” his voice tightened, his hands on her face when she looked down. He forced her to look up into his eyes.
“It’s alright, Lucas,” she let her fingers touch the band on his trousers. “Why did you go the London when your father summoned you?” She watched the hesitation enter his gaze and nodded.
“To tell him I would not be a party to his intention to…to traffic in a human being,” he told her firmly, vowing to himself there would be no lies between them.
“I see. That’s why you don’t stay in bed in the mornings, despite having spent the nights with me,” Emma tried to back away, pulling in a deep breath and accepting that answer.
“Stop struggling,” he ordered gruffly. “I have no desire to ruin your reputation, Emma.”
“My father gambled me off in a card game, Lucas,” her laugh was dry, edged in hurt that she didn’t keep very well hidden. “I’m fairly certain it’s the talk of every ballroom and summer party in London. It would surely effect your reputation if you married me.”
“My reputation as a blue-stocking? As an inventor? Or the one where people cross the street to avoid listening to me explain the latest improvements to the house and grounds?” Lucas liked the tiny smile playing at the corner of her lips.
Emma flattened her palms against his waist and stroked slowly to his chest.
“We could have an affair,” she suggested quietly, leaning in and brushing his chest with her lips. Relief flowed into her when he didn’t push her away, a soft moan breaking free when his palms stroked across her back and down, onto her hips. There was no mistaking his interest, his arousal evident in the hardening length of his cock beneath his trousers.
“Emma…” his voice had lowered and shook even as his hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against him. She moved seductively, stroking him with her lower abdomen while spilling warm, moist kisses over his chest.
“I’m aware that I’ve passed marrying age, Lucas. I’m considered a spinster now at almost twenty-five,” Emma pressed closer, tipping her hips and groaning when it rubbed just right over her clit.
“Marry me, Emma,” Lucas pushed the words out of his mouth along with a sharp breath. He stared down into the round, dark eyes.
“No. I won’t hold you to that…that idiot scheme,” she murmured against his flesh, taking one slow step back toward the bed and then another. “We’re modern thinkers,” she hoped she found the right words.
“You believe I would treat you thus?”
“You’ve had lovers, you’ve admitted that. Why am I different?” She continued moving them toward the bed until she felt it behind her. Emma turned him and gently pushed him to sit. They were level now and she placed both hands on his shoulders, letting the solid feel of him play beneath her palms. Warm and strong. She pressed against his chest, the soft muslin of her camisole felt coarse against nipples peaked with sensation.
“You are different to me, Emma,” Lucas let his hands fall to the globes of her ass and pulled her close, his lips brushed over the thin gap between her camisole and the sheer fabric of her pantaloons. Her scent filled him; warmth and sleep and woman. He gave in and drew his tongue along the gap before opening the lowest button with his teeth.
“Lucas…” his name whispered out softly against his head, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and clinging to the strength of him. Her breath caught and froze when he opened the ribbon that held the pantaloons around her waist. Once that bow was undone, they pooled at her feet.
She felt the whisper of hot breath over her stomach, small bites over her skin followed by his tongue as a soothing agent that made her shiver. She hesitated when he pulled her closer, wanting her astride him.
“Step out of the fabric, Emma,” he said gruffly, his hands moving to the small buttons down the front of her camisole. “Sweet…beautiful…” he kissed a path behind the buttons he opened until the sides of the camisole parted. Tear drop shapes were betrayed to him on either side, his palms gliding over her ribs to cup each breast.
Emma shivered. It felt like it had been so very long since such sweet sensations raced through her. She felt the thick moisture between the lips of her pussy when his thumbs stroked over her nipples.
His hands left her breasts long enough to settle on her waist and lift until her knees were bent on either side of his knees. His hands stroked behind her, gripping her behind and pulling her hard against him. He couldn’t recall a woman sinking so firmly into his senses before Emma Carstairs. It wasn’t merely his cock she’d stirred, but she was deep inside his mind and warmly wrapped around his heart.
“Marry me, Emma,” Lucas lowered his mouth until he could draw his tongue around one pebbled nipple. He suckled, pulled the peak between his teeth and stroked his hands over her back and behind.
“I…no, no…” she was gasping in air, her back arched and the mewl she offered was soft at the pleasures shooting through her. Marriage. Forced marriage. Bad idea, a distant part of her argued seconds before his hand slid between her thighs.
“Yes…” Lucas said gruffly, dragging his fingers between the swollen center and pulling heated moisture over her clit. Her body jumped in his hands. He used his thumb to stroke over and around, pressing against her clit while he slid one long finger inside her. Entry wasn’t difficult. She was weeping hot moisture to guide him. But she was tight. So hot and tight. He added a second finger, stretching her in slow shallow thrusts. “Marry me, Emma…or I will stop this now.”
“I…no…you can’t be serious…” she pushed herself against his fingers, the faintest hint of pain snapping into her senses. “You want me…I know you do…” Holding her breath, she thrust against his invading fingers hard and knew the pain part was removed even as she gulped in deep drafts of air, waiting for it to pass. “Please, Lucas…”
“Promise me, Emma. We will be married,” he told her without doubt. He pulled his fingers away from her warmth and gripped her waist, stopping her movement and holding her captive when she struggled to rub her body against his cock.
“You came to the summons to tell your father he was mad! That…that winning you a bride was ludicrous!”
“I changed my mind,” he informed her firmly.
“I have not,” she whispered angrily, squirming and shoving her palms against his shoulders. Not a single movement, she realized, scowling and wiggling more. “Release me.”
“Agree to marry me.”
“No.”
Lucas raised his arms a little higher, his tongue scraping one of her nipples. He watched her open her mouth and then snap it shut.
“Your arms will get tired,” Emma ground her teeth together to avoid gulping in a sharp breath when his mouth continuing teasing her. She dug her nails into his shoulders and closed her eyes.
“I’ve taken your virginity,” Lucas said quietly.
“I…you’re…” she stared at him with wide, round eyes. “It’s a piece of useless skin that…I cannot believe I am even thinking of responding to that statement. I swear to you, Lucas, I am going to scream.”
“I will arrange for the local parson and complete the necessary paperwork. We shall be wed within a fortnight,” Lucas informed her. He stood up and lowered her to the floor before striding out of the room without looking back.
Emma stood gaping at the empty room.
How did the morning go bad so quickly?
She bent and retrieved the bloomers and quickly dressed, her fingers shaking as she buttoned her camisole and continued to stare at the open door.
“Good morning, Miss,” Nancy came around the corner with a glass of juice in her hand. She looked toward the closed trunk and the dress Emma held in her hands. “I can help you with that. You should have called for me, Miss.”
Emma sighed and dropped the dress over her head. “I’m accustomed to dressing myself, Nancy. It’s fine, thank you for offering, though.” She moved to the side of the bed and leaned against it. Both women looked up when Lucas suddenly came around the corner fully dressed.
“I’ve arranged for Daniel to prepare a carriage and take you both into town as soon as you finish your breakfast, Emma,” Lucas remained in the open door.
Emma moved to the vanity bench and sat facing the mirror. She held up the brush to Nancy and caught her gaze in the mirror.
“If you would braid this mess, please, Nancy. I’m not hungry so we can leave as soon as we’re ready.”
“Leave us for a few moments, Nancy,” Lucas took the hairbrush from her and waited for the door to close, giving them privacy. “You should have breakfast, Emma.”
“I do not need a keeper, Lucas. Thank you for your concern. Are you moving the…” her voice dropped to a whisper. “The money?”
“I will handle it once the house is empty,” Lucas informed her, moving to stand behind her and begin stroking the brush through her hair.
Emma tried jerking her head away until their gaze met in the mirror. She sighed, feeling like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
“You don’t want to be married to me, Lucas,” Emma said after a few quiet minutes, his hand smoothing the long hair while the other brushed through the thick, dark strands. “I just think it would be a bad idea. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“How can you be certain you would make me unhappy, Emma?”
“You don’t know me, Lucas,” she whispered, her head shaking slowly.
“I know that in the last few days I’ve met a woman who rarely speaks my language,” he met the pouting little scowl in the mirror as he continued brushing her long hair. “She brings me into moments I’ve never cared to be in. She speaks to me of everything except clothing, shoes and hairstyles. She makes me laugh and speaks to me of inventions of tomorrow without ridicule or derision. She kisses me as though I were more important than a title and wealth of jewels. She’s uninhibited and adventurous. She’s child-like and intelligent. How can I permit such a woman to leave me?”
“Oh, Lucas…” His name breathed from her lips and Emma closed her eyes.
“What are you frightened of, Emma?”
“I don’t belong here, Lucas,” she repeated with a little sob, her head shaking as she pulled away and turned to look up at him. She saw herself reflected in the oval lenses he wore, and even as she stared, she didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her or the woman he was describing. She drew in a long, slow breath and stood up, taking his hands in hers.
Hers were shaking; his, warm and confident.