Emma stared at his crotch. It had begun as her idea but Lucas had quickly made it a pleasure that had the lips of her pussy swelling and hot, steaming crème flooding between them. She bent forward, over the arm of the chair and worked the thick, stiff leather out of her way and went back to negotiating the buttons. They popped readily to get out of the way of the hard, length of his cock.
She pushed the sides of the rough fabric to the sides, pausing when he brought his hand forward. He circled his cock, stroking up and down the length of the thick shaft, rubbing his thumb over the swollen head. When he squeezed the base, veins bulged. He removed his hand when she wrapped her smaller hand around him, caressing, stroking with the same heaviness that he had shown her.
“Part your legs, Emma,” Lucas ordered gruffly when she used her tongue to scrape around the ridge beneath the head of his cock. His hand was at the perfect height and pulled at her dress until it was pooled on her back. Her arse was bare and the sight forced a low groan from his throat. “No drawers…oh, sweet…and a few minutes and you’re already wet for me…” he ran his palm over one firm globe, down to the center and into the dampness.
Emma groaned around the head of his cock, suckling and taking him slowly deeper when she felt his fingers stroking between her legs. Her hips twitched a little when he toyed with her clit, her tongue stroking hotly along his cock. She pulled her mouth free with a low moan, the muscles of her pussy squeezing when he thrust first one long finger inside her and then another.
“Lucas…”
She forced herself to focus. She hadn’t intended to be fingered to distraction. And the man did have some talented fingers! She’d intended to drive him crazy, not the other way round! She felt her eyes cross and licked her way down his length, tickling her tongue over the sacs already pulling into taut, solid balls. She loved his scent, how the musk mixed with his morning bath with a cedar and pine soap that wafted through her when she was near him.
The low moans and whispered words encouraged her, emboldened her beyond all else. Carefully, she slipped her other hand between his thighs, easing the slender fingers down until she could cup his sacs with her hand. She took him in her mouth again, using her tongue while her fingers teased the soft, sensitive section between his sac and his anus. It had obviously been a really good decision, she thought when his hips arched slightly, his voice a rough rasping hum that managed to make it through the rising sensations she was feeling herself.
His moans and the tension in the hand gripping her head told her she was definitely pleasing him. He began to gently thrust into her mouth. Hunger for him flowed with the heated flow of moisture between her thighs. Two fingers thrust hard and deeply into her at the same time she tasted the first thick spurt of him into her mouth.
Her lips closed securely around him, capturing him and the sounds that would have reverberated through the library had she been free. His thumb had struck and stroked her clit at the same time and she almost lost her footing, her knees quaked as the roiling convulsions crashed through her.
Emma swore she saw stars shooting through her head.
Lucas struggled to quickly clear his senses because he was positive Emma was going to end up on the floor any second now. He slipped his hand from the damp center and lowered her dress before removing her hands from him. A very satisfied, deflated cock plopped onto his thigh as he gently pulled her across his legs. Her head fell comfortably against his shoulder, the soft mewl from his kitten as she cuddled into him with a contented sigh.
It was the tiny sniffle that broke the silence in the room.
“Emma?” Lucas brushed his palm over the side of her face and felt the moisture. “Are you alright?”
“Yes…just…thoughts…”
“Speak to me, please.” Lucas felt a sharp clench in his middle when she lifted her head, one palm up and swiping at her cheeks that did nothing to hide the redness in her eyes. “What could trouble you so?”
“The feelings are so powerful, Lucas. So…really deep and real when…” Emma looked at the open button on his shirt and realized he wasn’t wearing a jacket today. “Do you remember my asking if you believed in reincarnation?” She’d thought of this explanation for a long time.
“I know some cultures believe it exists,” he said cautiously.
“I can see a life before this one. And I was married for a very long time,” she didn’t look up from the hand that had come from the side and covered both of hers as they twisted on her lap. “He was kind and loving and sweet…but I couldn’t…we had sex…but it was never like when we’re together. I felt…I was broken…something was wrong with me and when I woke up and couldn’t remember anything, not even my name, I still saw this other life, this other time and I was afraid to care about you. I was afraid…I was afraid to try again…I didn’t want to pretend…to lie to you…I’m not crazy.”
Lucas chuckled. “I had not even entertained such a notion,” he brushed her brow with his lips. “In my travels, I’ve seen and heard things that one wouldn’t normally consider in every day Eastbourne, Emma. What I am grateful for, is that you’re here, with me, now, in this world, in this time. The combustion we share…the fire you bring to my blood is like nothing I’ve ever known before, my sweet Emma. I am also extremely pleased you’ve no reason to lie to me. That you’ve willingly given me your trust is an amazing gift.”
“There’s nothing in my memory about him…my father…or where I lived…or even what I was like,” Emma sighed, glad she’d found a way to explain things. Mostly. She wasn’t entirely sure how to explain things to herself.
“Perhaps that is for the best, Emma,” Lucas placed one finger beneath her chin. “Your drawings and ideas for improvements are intriguing and intelligent. No matter where they come from. It explains the confusion I see sometimes in your eyes,” he pressed her head to his shoulder. “And the sadness that I was unable to understand. Were you happy? In this…other life?”
“I think I was content,” she answered honestly. “I was angry with myself. Because I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me,” she tried to halt the shaking in her voice, but it seemed to come with the words.
“Nothing, my love, is wrong with you,” Lucas told her firmly. “I must, however, put myself to rights before we have company.” He lifted her to the floor.
Emma swallowed the giggle and smoothed down her dress, crossing the room to where she had set up her desk. She ran her fingers over a few of the old volumes on the shelf and selected two to take with her to the workroom. She hugged the books to her and turned to face Lucas.
He stood staring at her. Taking in the soft, straight day dress she’d chosen and the way it flowed over her curves. His hand raised from his side and power surged through him when she stepped immediately forward to slide her hand into his.
“Stay in the house, please, Emma. Until we’ve located Daniel and whoever else is responsible for the break-in,” Lucas carried her hand to his lips with a soft kiss.
“I will be in the workroom…with doors wide open and windows following,” she promised.
“I will have someone at the back entrance,” he told her as she walked toward the door, the knob turning slowly in her hand.
“It isn’t me they’re after, Lucas,” she said, turning to face him after pulling the door inward and leaving it open. “None of this was about me. It was always about money.” She paused, her lip pulled between her teeth for a moment. “You wouldn’t consider giving them each a few of the certificates, would you?”
“Why would we do that, Emma?”
“We wouldn’t be together without them.” Emma sighed. “My head’s messed up right now, Lucas. I don’t want to reward their behavior and that’s what it would be. And yet…I don’t know.”
“I’ve placed the certificates with our solicitor and they will be watched and sold at the appropriate time. They’ll be placed in a trust for future generations.”
“Our children,” she whispered, a hint of fear in her voice as though just realizing the possibility.
“Our children,” he repeated softly, fascinated by the emotions filling her eyes, the final one a sweet acceptance of the possibilities that made him warm inside. “Does that thought frighten you, Emma? We’ve done nothing to prevent the event from occurring.”
“I…I honestly don’t know,” she answered very softly. “But I had to ask. I’m not sure why, because you’re right, they don’t deserve it.”
“Stay inside, Emma, please,” he reminded her, accepting her nod. Lucas watched her leave, his voice low as he crossed to his desk.
“I don’t want them realizing they could use you, sweet,” he knew without a doubt he wouldn’t remain level headed if anything happened to Emma.
He leaned over his desk, studying the various drawings and sketches she’d done for him of things in her head, she called them and he considered what she’d told him. She wasn’t unstable, he refused to even considered that notion. She was bright and cheerful and inventive and deliciously uninhibited. And perhaps the explanation she offered him was the answer to all those traits wrapped in one delightful bundle.
Plain, he thought of her father’s declaration. His Emma was so far from plain that Lucas had no doubt the man had been blind to the true nature of his own daughter for her entire life.
He looked up from the pencil sketches at the sound of footsteps in the hall and waved at Harris as he came around the corner. He recognized the envelope in his hands immediately.
“My mother?” He took the envelope held out to him and reached for the sharp silver opener. “Close the door, please.”
“A problem?”
“Is Brock posted near the back? By Emma’s workroom?” Lucas opened the letter and quickly scanned the contents of the short missive.
“He is and judging from the expression on his face a few moments ago, he’s suffering nobly to the chattering and occasional bursts of song from Nancy and Emma,” Harris smiled at his friend’s laughter.
“That doesn’t surprise me. She is always singing or humming to herself when she believes no one is listening,” Lucas tapped the letter. “My mother believes Emma might enjoy time spent in London.”
“Your mother wants to know the woman you married.”
“That is also truth,” Lucas sighed. “We were wrong in our conclusions.”
“Which does make it far easier to explain,” Harris crossed the room and peered out into the dissipating fog. “Believing that those two men were capable of constructing a plot to rid the Bank of England of two millions pounds was ludicrous at best.”
“I’m in agreement. Which means Daniel acted with whoever is after the money. Send out a few of your best and uncover his acquaintances, friends anyone who might be able to provide a lead to who he was in league with,” Lucas dropped the letter to the desk. “I think she might be safer in London. Although she is correct in stating that she is not the target.”
“Yet you still appear worried.”
“People like that would not hesitate to use her to their advantage and until that money is returned to the bank or the Yard, I do not want her put in harm’s way,” Lucas said firmly. “I’ve come to the startling conclusion that I would be far, far less than agreeable should they choose to use Emma to achieve their end.”
“I would not even pity them.”
“I’ll let her know at lunch and they can go first thing in the morning. Notify Brock he’ll be their escort. I know of none better, save yourself, and I’d rather you remained with the house.”
“I shall see to it immediately.”
Emma almost choked on the mouthful of the cool cucumber sandwich. Her eyes were wide and head shaking adamantly as she swallowed and stared at Lucas.
“No. No,” she repeated firmly. “I won’t go.”
“Emma, I’ve made the decision.”
“You should have asked me first. I am not going,” she told him angrily, her fingers whitening around the napkin she was clenching.
“Emma, you will enjoy London. My mother promises to take you to several balls and afternoon teas. I know of many book shops you could explore and I told her how you spoke of enjoying cards…”
“I am not going.”
“You will do as I say,” Lucas hadn’t realized until that moment how difficult it was to truly be a dominant in the face of the depth of his feelings for his wife. “While you are not the target directly, it would be best for you to be away from the house until we have this issue settled. I can’t have you caught in the middle of…”
“No,” Emma said again, throwing her napkin to the table and standing up to pace the room. She came to a stop behind her chair, her hands each closed on the corners in taut, almost bloodless fists.
“The matter is closed, Emma. Nancy is packing a small travel bag for you now. You’ll leave with Brock just after breakfast. You can shop and find whatever you need in London,” he held up a palm when her mouth opened again. “Enough. It won’t be that long. Seven days, perhaps a fortnight,” he paused at the baffled look. “Fourteen days. It should be finished long before then and I will come join you for…”
“I thought you cared for me?” She whispered painfully. “Why are you sending me away like this? You might need me!”
“Tomorrow morning, Emma. If you stop being childish about this…”
Lucas exhaled slowly, realizing he had the barest control of himself at the moment when she turned and left him sitting at the dining table alone. His napkin struck the table with force as he shoved away from the table. He had expected opposition, but not to this extent.
The dom in him said it was well past time to pull Emma in line. The problem was, that line had blurred and he wasn’t sure where it was any longer.
He went to her workroom first, but it was empty and smelled of fresh summer roses. He saw the mounds of petals that lay drying on her table and smiled. She loved her work as much as he did his.
His thoughts turned to what she told him, trying to imagine the confusion and fear that must have gripped her when she woke that first time. Perhaps it explained why she treated it like a dream, because the reality of it all frightened her. It had taken her a fortnight before she finally told him about the sadness that haunted her eyes at times.
Lucas was about to check her bedroom, their bedroom, he corrected firmly, when he heard the bright laughter outside the rear exit to her workroom. He pulled the door the rest of the way open, nodding absently at an ever patient Brock sitting uncomfortably on the small stoop. But it was the squealing and laughter that held his attention.
Emma had her skirt tied up somehow, he wasn’t sure how, and was running barefoot over the dusty, flattened grass, chasing three children who barely reached her waist. He knew they belonged to the wife of his best horse trainer. Laughing, running, skidding to stops and dodging. He wasn’t sure what the game was, but the four of them appeared to be having a very good time at it.
Emma’s cheeks were bright and pink but he could still see the redness in her eyes. The ache inside him knew she’d been crying off somewhere by herself after their argument. He tried to relax but knowing the argument that was probably to come, he was tense as he watched her running and playing.
There were grass stains on her dress; dust and dirt streaked her arms with a few dabs on her face when she rubbed a hand over her cheeks or forehead and she’d never looked more beautiful to him. Her father had hurt her with the comment about how plain she was, but Lucas suspected there might be something deeper that she hadn’t spoken of to him.
A soft curse left his lips as he watched the unfolding scenario. Emma went down, tumbling and rolling over the grass and lying flat on her back, breathing raggedly. His foot went down the single step, instinct sending him immediately to her aid, but his body came to a halt when Brock raised an arm, his palm up to stop Lucas.
“Watch. ‘Tis part of the game, sir,” Brock told him with a chuckle. “If they get her to the ground, they get to claim victory. She allows them the power.”
Lucas hadn’t taken his gaze from her, his breathing slowly returning when the children let loose with a stream of loud giggles and pounced on her in one mass. Three small wiggling bodies rolled on the flattened grass with Emma, laughing and shouting, “We won!” over and over until they all lay raggedly breathing.
“We winned,” whispered one of the little girls, her crème pinafore smeared with dirt and grass but her smile bright and missing one front tooth.
“You most certainly did,” Emma agreed breathlessly. “That’s because you work well together and are just too much for me.”
Lucas heard the absent tone in her voice. While her body was playing with the children, her mind was obviously far from the small play area. He was about to speak when she looked up and noticed him. The smile vanished from her face and she rolled to the side, away from him, whispering to the children and making them laugh.
Emma had stormed out of the dining hall, barely keeping the tears from falling and further embarrassing herself. He meant well, she kept telling herself as she went to her room, the door slamming behind her before she went into the bathroom and closed that door. She slid against the door, down to the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them to her as she shoved her face into the fabric of her dress.
She kept telling herself it wasn’t because of her. It wasn’t because he didn’t want her there.
“He’s trying to keep you safe,” she told herself as she rocked gently back and forth, memories of this same position as fresh in her mind as if it were yesterday.
“He’s not sending you away because you’re not pretty,” she whispered shakily, wondering when thoughts from the past would ever leave her alone. “And I am not going,” she said firmly, sniffling and standing up, she turned the cold water on and scooped handfuls onto her face. Ignoring the towel, she lifted her skirt and scrubbed at her face. Maybe if it was all red, no one would notice her eyes.
She needed to not think about it for now so she went quickly down the back stairs and outside, walking straight to the small trio of two girls and one little boy that ranged from five years to three. She quickly scooped the smallest into her arms and took off running in the small clearing where they played. With whoops of laughter, the other two took off after her, laughing and calling her name.
She ran and dodged and pretended everything was alright. And she didn’t even stumble until she saw Lucas watching her from the house. Laughing and giggling with children always cleared her thoughts, even if it was only for a short time. She lay on the grass at the end of their game. The children had gone when their mother called them, leaving her alone and yet not alone. She knew Brock still sat by the door to her workroom and she could see Lucas out of the corner of her eye.
She sighed and pushed to her feet, absently dusting herself off as she went toward the door. She ignored the palm he offered and went into her workroom, and straight to the sink to wash the dirt and dust off. She thought about closing the door and sliding the bolt in place, but Lucas moved faster and was inside.
“You’re angry with me,” Lucas said quietly.
She knew he was watching her. She swore she could feel his gaze taking in every inch of her. She knew he was staring at her ass and barely contained the need to twitch. He knew she didn’t have panties on, or drawers, as he called them. How do you hold onto a mad when you’re crazy about your husband?
Lucas sighed at the silence. “Emma, we must discuss this.”
Emma turned away and left him standing there, continuing to the bedroom. She closed the door but knew it wouldn’t stop him. There wasn’t anything to discuss in her mind. He was determined she go. She was positive she wouldn’t. Stalemate.
But in this time period, as in so many yet to come, a female had little say in much of anything.
“You’re determined to behave like a child about this,” Lucas said when he entered the bedroom, firmly closing the door behind him.
Emma stared out the open balcony doors toward the sea. She used to sit for hours and just imagine being below the water and never having to leave it.
“You’re just like my father.”
“The bloody hell…”
“I’m nothing but property to you. Just as I am to him. Just throw her into the middle of the card table, winner take all,” she said bitterly.
“You are not my property,” he bit out between his teeth.
“If that were true, then my saying I will not leave tomorrow would matter.” She continued to stare into the waning sunlight. She didn’t need to see him to know he was furious. She could almost feel the air around them change. She swiped angrily at the tear on her cheek when the tapping came on the door.
Lucas spun on the door, crossing to it and pulling it sharply inward.
“I…I brought a plate for Miss Emma,” Nancy stammered out, swallowing. Her hands shook a little under his glare.
“I’m not hungry, Nancy but thank you.”
“Emma, you missed lunch…” Lucas said flatly. That came out all wrong, he decided, the fury at her behavior and his concern crashing into one another.
“I am not hungry. Or isn’t that my choice, either?” She demanded.
“Take it to the kitchen, Nancy. And you’re dismissed for the night. Be prepared to leave at ten in the morning.” Lucas accepted the quick, polite nod and closed the door firmly.
“I know you mean well, but I’m not going to London.”
Lucas was around the large chair in three steps, his hands out and on her shoulders. He watched her eyes widen when he pulled her to her feet in front of him, his hands leaving her shoulders and reaching for the sides of her dress.
Emma smacked at his hands when he pulled her dress up.
“Remove it or I’ll rip it from your body, Emma.” Lucas kept his face neutral, lashes narrowed when she didn’t move. Without waiting for another comment, he grabbed the front of her dress, made a fist and pulled. He caught her against him with his other hand when the fabric rent with a loud tearing sound and she stumbled forward.
“What is wrong with you?” Emma gaped at him in disbelief, standing there in one of the light camisoles and nothing else.
“That, too,” Lucas reached for the front, only stopping when her hands came up to quickly open the tiny buttons down the front. She had it open in seconds, leaving it like that for a long minute before shrugging it off and letting it fall to the chair.
“What’s the point of this, Lucas? Without clothing I can’t run away?”
“I don’t want clothing in the way when I give you the punishment you’ve been collecting,” he answered tonelessly, looking around and quickly grabbing her wrist.
“I haven’t done anything to be punished for!” She squirmed in his hold, her body slamming to stiffness when he turned her to face the arched trunk.
“I made a few changes while you were pouting this afternoon,” Lucas told her, watching the mixture of trepidation and confusion on her face. She looked up at him quickly before glancing down at the floor. “You will go to London in the morning.”
“I won’t,” she tried digging in her heels but he propelled her forward, lifting her effortlessly at the waist and laying her over the arch of the trunk that he had covered with a soft blanket. “Lucas! Let me up!”
With one hand at the middle of her back, he moved quickly, fastening the thick leather cuffs to her wrists before moving behind her and securing her ankles.
He only stared a moment at the pale, full globes before raising his arm and bringing his palm down hard and flat against her arse. She jumped and it was silent as she gulped in a breath. The silence wasn’t long lasting.
“You…you…”
“You will enter the carriage with the dignity and grace of my valued and precious lady wife and you will travel to London with Nancy until I deem it safe enough for your return,” he informed her with another sharp swat to her arse.
“I won’t!” She yelled out angrily. “I don’t belong there! Mrs. Harper needs me to help with the children and no one makes fun of my clothing or hair here! I fit and I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!”
Lucas ground his teeth and delivered several more swats in quick, sharp succession. Each one turned the pretty globes a tiny bit more rose colored; each one brought a new, desperate gulp for air from Emma when she held her breath and wiggled.
“Oww! Damn it, Lucas…stop…stop now!” Emma demanded, though it was slowly turning into a plea.
He continued, switching hands and sides until she was sobbing, no longer making demands; no longer defiant.
“The coach tomorrow, Emma. What is your answer?”
“Yes,” she whispered in between breaths. “Yes…if that’s what you want. I’ll go.”
“Sweet Emma,” Lucas dropped to his heels at her head, his palm stroking lightly over the tears streaking her face. He opened the cuffs at her wrists and quickly undid the ones on her ankles before lifting her and wrapping her in a light sheet. He settled into the chair with her on his lap. “It isn’t what I want. Why can I not make you see that? But I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because I was too selfish to act.”
Emma didn’t answer him. She lay quietly against him, her eyes closed. A shuddering breath slipped between her lips now and then, sending the rent in his heart further apart knowing he’d hurt her far more than a pinkened behind.
He listened to her breathing gradually slow until he knew she was asleep. He wasn’t sure how long he sat and just stroked his palm over her head, his lips brushing her temple now and then. It stung that she thought he wanted to send her away but another part of him didn’t know the memories that seemed to fill her at times.
He settled her on the bed sometime later, the blankets pulled over her, his finger grazing along her throat one last time before preparing for bed. His mind was caught up with ending this as quickly as possible and getting his wife back to her happy, cheerful self.