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After breakfast, Louisa finally caught her. Emma had been saved earlier by a hungry infant after returning from her ride with Kingsley. Not her best idea, she’d realized. It would have been far better to have ridden with a stableboy than accept Kingsley as her escort.
He asked probing questions to which she had no answers. Why did she go to Hell? What did she want?
“Emma, I asked you a question.”
Emma blinked, trying to remember her sister’s question. With no idea what the query was, how could she answer? Instead, she looked askance toward Louisa.
Her sister sighed. “I asked why you rode off with Simon.”
“I needed someone to accompany me,” she replied with a shrug.
“We have plenty of grooms to accompany you on a ride. Simon is not the sort of man you ask to go anywhere with.”
Emma wondered at that. While he tended to frighten her sometimes, lately, she wasn’t so fearful of him. “Why?”
Louisa sat in the brocade chair next to her. “Why? He’s....”
“Yes?” she inquired as her sister’s voice trailed off.
“He’s a rogue, Emma,” she said with a frown. “Have you forgotten the first time you want to Hell with me? What he was doing with that?”
Emma knew she would never forget that sight. Nor would she forget the uncomfortable sensation in her belly as she watched his face while they fucked. Where did she learn that word? Louisa rarely apologized for swearing, and yet, Emma was certain she’d never heard that word from her. How did she know it, and more importantly, what it meant?
She rubbed her temple with her fingers.
“Emma! Where are you today?” Louisa reached over and clasped her hand. “Please tell me nothing happened between you and Simon.”
“Of course not.” She wondered if she could ask Louisa about that word. No, then her sister would believe Kingsley had said something improper. “But what else, Louisa? Every man does what he was doing with that woman. What makes Mr. Kingsley so terrible?”
Louisa withdrew her hand. “He killed a man once.”
Emma’s mouth almost gaped until she remembered the rumors about that duel. “You mean the duel with Lord Winston?”
“Yes.”
“But I thought Kingsley shot him in the right shoulder. Nowhere near his heart. Winston died from a shoddy surgeon, not the gunshot wound.”
Louisa’s blue eyes widened. “The man is still dead,” she said harshly.
“Yes, and if I recollect, Lord Winston instigated the entire thing. What else?”
“He’s a bastard and owns a gaming hell,” her sister replied impatiently. “You are an innocent and should stay as far away from him as possible.”
“I see.” Part of her wanted to agree with Louisa. Another part wanted to tell Louisa to mind her business. Emma didn’t like Mr. Kingsley, but she also hated to see someone maligned for no good reason other than the status of his birth. She didn’t doubt he earned his reputation as a devil.
Glancing up at the clock, she smiled and stood. “Excuse me, Louisa. I promised Mr. Webb I would help him transplant a few shrubs in the greenhouse.”
Louisa waved her on. “Please take my words into consideration, Emma.”
“You have nothing to fear there. I don’t even like the man.”
Even if she still wanted to understand the enigma that was Simon Kingsley. She raced upstairs to change into some old clothes and had a devious thought. This would give her the ability to chat with him and discover more about him. She knocked on the door but took a quick step back when Mr. Kingsley opened his bedchamber door.
His blue eyes widened with shock and quickly sparkled in question. “What are you doing here, angel?”
“Put on some old clothes and met me in the greenhouse.” She fled the doorway and flew into her room to change. Needing to get there before he did, she ran to the greenhouse.
“Mr. Webb?” she called out as she pulled an apron from the hook.
“I’m by the rosa rubiginosa cuttings we took last fall.”
Emma stopped to remember what plant that was.
“The sweetbriar, Miss Emma,” he added.
“Thank you.” Seeing Mr. Kingsley cut a path across the gardens, she said, “I brought another helper.”
“Mrs. Raynerson?” Mr. Webb asked in a hopeful tone.
She laughed. Tessa loved to come out and help Mr. Webb out when she visited. “No, it’s the duke’s brother. Here he is now.”
She could have sworn she heard him muttering about what the duke’s bastard brother might know about plants.
Kingsley opened the greenhouse door and glanced down at her. “I am here. What do you need my help with?” Impatience lined his voice.
Emma grabbed another apron and two sets of leather gloves. “Follow me...and be nice.”
“I’m always nice, angel.”
“Hardly.”
His low chuckle followed her as she wound her way past all the plants they had worked on last fall. “Here we are.”
Mr. Webb took one look at Mr. Kingsley in his riding clothes and shook his head. “He does know he’ll get dirty?” he asked Emma.
“I told him old clothes.”
“This is all I have,” Kingsley growled. “Now, what is this about?”
“We have plants to move to bigger pots,” Emma replied, picking up a small sweet briar planting.
“Digging in dirt?”
Emma held out a pair of gloves. “Yes. It’s good for you.”
“I am supposed to be keeping my brother company, in case you forgot.” He took the outstretched brown gloves and put them on. “And how is this good for me?”
“He is with Charlotte right now,” she replied without a clue what her brother-in-law was about today. But this was an excellent way to get to know the man in front of her. Why she felt this need was a matter she would not consider. “Which do you want us to work on, Mr. Webb?”
As if sensing the tensing surrounding them, Mr. Webb said quickly, “You two work on the sweetbriar while I move some plants outside.”
“As you wish,” Emma replied, placing one small pot on the worktable. “Take one of those,” she said to Kingsley, pointing to the small group of plants on the floor.”
Kingsley shook his head as he gathered a plant and brought it closer. “I cannot believe you are making me do this.”
Emma smiled. She didn’t think anyone could make the man do what he didn’t want to do. “Now, in the empty pot, place some pebbles at the bottom.”
He watched as she filled just the bottom of the pot with the small stones. “Why am I here again?”
“To help out.”
“And...?”
“To keep me company,” she answered lightly. “Mr. Webb is very nice, but he tends to take his work very seriously.” She added a mixture of peat and dirt. “I mean, it is just a plant after all.” She held up the small planting. “An exceedingly small plant. And the worse that might happen is it doesn’t survive the transfer to a new pot.”
Simon blinked at the chatty Emma. “My dear Miss Drake, I don’t believe I have ever heard you say so much.”
Her hands stopped moving in the dirt. “Indeed? I’m sure my sister would tell you I am usually quite talkative.” She released a small sigh. “Some gentlemen have even noted that I tend to be a bit flirtatious, but I don’t think that’s true, do you?”
“Not around me,” he replied with a smile. “Are you nervous?”
“How so?”
“Many ladies get tongue-tied around a devil like me. Others tend to talk incessantly.”
“I am not nervous around you. You are my sister’s brother-in-law, after all. Family,” she mumbled the last word.
Kingsley pressed his lips together as if to keep from laughing. He tipped the pot oven to let gravity release the plant from its current home.
“Bitch!” he exclaimed as a thorn poked his thumb through the glove.
“Sir!”
“Excuse my language. You didn’t tell me these the plants had thorns.”
“They are sweetbriar roses, Mr. Kingsley. All roses have thorns.”
“You told me they were sweetbriar, not sweetbriar roses,” he countered.
“You will survive a thorn prick.” She shook her head and started working on her second planting while he returned to his first.
“Is this right?” He pressed the small plant into the bigger pot. “Perhaps the drop of blood added to it will fertilize the damn thing.”
“You are doing fine. And I doubt the plant will even notice the small droplet of blood.” Emma returned her focus on the plant in front of her.
“Tell me about your mother, Mr. Kingsley. I heard she had a lovely voice. I never did get to hear her sing.”
“Well played, Miss Drake,” Kingsley replied.
She raised a brow in question.
“Changing the topic of conversation.” Kingsley moved his first transplanted pot over on the worktable and reached for another container and plant.
“Your mother?” she inquired.
“Yes, my mother had an exquisite voice. Not that I was truly aware of it until I attended an opera as an adult.”
“When did she stop singing?”
“When I was ten.”
Louisa finished her second plant. “How did you end up buying a gaming hell?”
Simon sighed, but whether in frustration at the questions or the gardening, Emma could not say.
“I left home at sixteen and started working for a man who owned a gaming hell. He taught me everything I needed to know to start my own place. Hardy suggested I buy the old church and refurbish it into a gaming hell after winning a substantial amount of money. I think Hardy might have hoped for a partnership, but I wanted my own establishment.”
“You must have been quite young for such a venture.”
Kingsley grimaced. “I did what I had to. And you never did tell me how this was good for me.”
She smiled, staring down at the dirt in front of her. “Fresh air and your hands in the dirt. It clears the mind and spirit.”
“You’re not trying to save me, are you, Miss Drake?”
“I would never try to save you, Mr. Kingsley. Once a devil always a devil.”
“And yet, what was Lucifer but a fallen angel.”
#
WITH THE SOUND OF RAIN battering the windows the next morning, Emma wanted to throw the coverlet over her head and stay in bed until Friday when she was supposed to leave. Her interactions with Kingsley left her confused. A gentleman one moment and a scoundrel the next. She had to admit she enjoyed their time in the greenhouse transferring plants. But it was the afternoon in the conservatory two days ago that left her wondering. Why would he think he was going to kiss her? She would never allow such an affront. Besides, she was saving her first kiss for someone worthy like Ainsley or Stanton. Certainly, not the King of Hell.
“I have your breakfast, miss,” a soft voice called from the hall.
“Come in.” So much for hiding today. At least she didn’t have to eat breakfast with him. Since today was the anniversary of the last duke’s death, she hoped Kingsley would spend the day with his brother.
The maid entered the room with a smile. “Good morning, Miss Drake.”
“Good morning, Bridget.” Emma looked down at her breakfast and smiled, seeing the strong coffee her sister knew she loved. “This looks heavenly.”
“The duchess was very particular with your breakfast.”
Emma picked up her cup of coffee and inhaled the delightful aroma. Just the smell of it made her believe she could survive the day. As she sipped her drink, she closed her eyes and savored the flavor.
“Is the striped yellow muslin good for today? Or would you prefer the blue?” Bridget asked as looked inside the linen press. “I thought the yellow would be lovely on such a gloomy day.”
“Yes, that would be perfect,” Emma replied before taking a bite of a strawberry pastry. Her sister knew her weaknesses far too well. Strong coffee with a sweet pastry, and Emma could face almost any day.
Once finished with breakfast and dressing, she crept downstairs, hoping to avoid Kingsley for as much of the day as possible. A day without his handsome face might help break this strange spell he seemed to have woven over her.
As she reached the last step, the footman said, “Her Grace is waiting for you in the salon.”
“Thank you.”
Emma walked into the salon, and her hopes for a day without the gentlemen were dashed. “Good morning, everyone.”
Harry and Kingsley sat near each other, both looking rather somber, which she supposed was to be expected on the anniversary of their father’s death. Louisa sat near the fireplace with a book in her lap. The men rose as she entered the room.
Louisa smiled over at her. “Come sit near me and the fire. Dratted weather. I had hoped for a beautiful day to have a picnic and maybe a good ride. Now we shall be stuck inside all day. Whatever shall we do to take our minds off the gloominess that seems to be surrounding us today?”
“Drink,” Kingsley replied.
Louisa giggled. “I don’t think you mean your coffee, do you?”
“Hardly.”
“I believe you and Harry should wait until at least three before you drink yourselves into oblivion. And thank you for bringing the coffee with you,” Louisa added before looking at Emma. “Did you enjoy the blend? I found it far too strong for my taste.”
Kingsley's gaze turned to Emma. “You drink coffee, not chocolate in the morning?”
“Yes, and you must tell me where you buy it, so I can have our cook order some. It was absolutely delicious.” Then she turned to her sister to avoid the scrutiny of the man with whom she least wanted to have something in common.
“Perhaps we should have a treasure hunt,” Louisa said as she tapped her fingers on the edge of the chair.
Emma rolled her eyes before sneaking a glance at her brother-in-law. The poor man looked completely miserable today, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her presence was adding to his unhappiness today. Her family had indirectly caused his father to commit suicide.
“Perhaps a quiet game of cards,” Kingsley suggested.
“I need a walk,” Harry finally said. “Simon?”
“At your service,” Kingsley replied. “I suppose cards will have to wait until after luncheon.”
“In this rain? You’ll catch your death,” Louisa exclaimed.
“Not today, Duchess,” Kingsley commented as he followed his brother out of the room.
Louisa sighed as the men left. “I wish I knew how to comfort Harry. He’s barely said two words to me today.”
“He will be out of this mood in a few days. I know he invited me but having two of the Drake sisters here can’t be helping.”
Louisa nodded. “I was rather surprised when he told me that he’d invited you.”
“Surprise? That sounded like anger to me.” Emma walked to the coffee service and poured herself another cup.
“I must apologize for my behavior two days ago. Nurse believes George is starting to teethe already. I was sleepy and out of sorts.”
“Already? Is four months early?”
“A bit, at least according to Nurse. But she said some babies are more bothered by teething more than others, and he still might not break through a tooth for a couple of months. He is so he irritable, and nothing soothes him.”
Emma smiled. “Is he any better?”
“Not really. And I must feed him soon. Will you come up to the nursery with me?”
“Of course, I barely saw the boy yesterday.”
Emma sipped her coffee as Louisa regaled her with stories of her son. As they walked up to the nursery, Emma could hear George fussing. “The poor thing.”
“Poor me,” Louisa said with a laugh. “Perhaps I should have gotten a wet nurse.”
Emma shook her head. “You would have hated having someone else feed your baby.”
As she walked into the room, Nurse stood with George in her arms as she swayed to and fro, softly singing to him. Seeing Louisa, Nurse handed George to her.
“I am going to have a cup of tea,” Nurse said. “Ring if you need me.”
“Thank you,” Louisa said as she unbuttoned the front of her dress. “Can you hold him for a moment while I get ready?”
Emma pulled George away from his mother only to have him cry in disapproval. “Hush, little boy, your mama is right there.”
“All right. Bring the little scoundrel over here,” Louisa said as she bared her breast.
“Does it hurt?” Emma asked as George latched on and started suckling.
“The first few weeks, it was dreadful, but we finally figured it out, and now we get along just fine, don’t we?” Louisa wiped away a tear from the little boy’s cheek.
As Louisa nursed George, Emma walked to the window and stared out at the expansive gardens. Kingsley’s words flittered through her mind. What did she want? Emma stared out at the pouring rain. The gloomy day had seeped into her mind and soul.
While she used to want marriage for the usual reasons and the thought of children had only been a duty to conserve her husband's title. But seeing both her sisters with their children had changed her mind. The idea of an infant so helpless, save the protection of his mother, touched her heart. Louisa often spoke of the inconceivable love she felt for her son.
If Emma didn’t marry, children were out of the question. She would be compelled to live out her life with Louisa and Harry. As an unmarried woman, she couldn’t own property even if she could make enough money to buy something. Emma didn’t want to be a burden. But after one disastrous engagement, she’d learned what marriage might be like and wanted no part of it.
Once she returned to town, she intended to get back to the items on her list. Even if she still wasn’t convinced about number ten. Perhaps number ten should be to find a position so she would not be a burden. Although finding a position sounded like work, not amusement. Her list was about enjoying herself.
“Are you all well, Emma? You’ve been staring out the window for five minutes without a word.”
“I suppose I am. It is that type of day.”
“Not thinking of Bolton again, are you?”
“No.” She didn’t want to remember the pain he’d caused her. Louisa had tried to gently warn her about Bolton’s regard for his mother over Emma. “I am done thinking about him forever.”
“Good. Bolton was not the right man for you. Can you imagine if you wished to paint in oils with him as your husband? He would have to ask his mother if that was a proper accomplishment for a lady. She would tell him you should stick to needlepoint.”
Emma smiled. “I suppose you’re are correct.”
Louisa glanced out the window and sighed. “I do hope Simon can find some way of comforting Harry.”
“Perhaps Harry will find it easier to speak with his brother, even if Mr. Kingsley didn’t know his natural father.”
Louisa shrugged. “I hope so. Still, Harry and Simon must be chilled to the bone.”
The sound of heavy footsteps hushed them both.
“Are you decent in there, Duchess?”
“One moment, Simon,” Louisa replied. “Hold George for me.”
Emma rose and took the boy out of her sister’s arms, only to have him start crying again.
Louisa smiled over at her son. “Pat his back. He may need to let out a belch.” She adjusted her gown before saying, “Come in now, Simon.”
Kingsley entered the room with a smile until he noticed Emma holding George. His jaw tightened, and his smile disappeared. Emma moved the infant over her shoulder, hoping that would help settle him down. Instead, he now bawled right in her ear.
“Let me take him, Miss Drake.” Kingsley reached out and pulled George up into his arms.
Her dratted nephew stopped crying and smiled at the devil. “How did you do that?”
Louisa laughed. “Don’t be upset, Emma. George does the same thing to me. The minute his uncle picks him up, he stops crying.”
Emma watched as Kingsley rubbed noses with George, which made the infant laugh. Kingsley laid him on a blanket on the floor and then lifted the boy’s clothing, exposing his rounded belly. The man proceeded to make rude noises on George’s tummy, producing loud laughs from the boy.
“Perhaps you should try this, Miss Drake,” Kingsley said as he smiled down at George. “He quite enjoys a good laugh.”
“I will leave that up to his uncle.”
“Do remember, the boy just ate,” Louisa said, staring down at her son with a motherly smile.
George’s hands reached out and caught Kingsley’s nose. The sound of Kingsley’s laugh sent a ripple of warmth through Emma that she didn’t understand. How could a man she disliked affect her so?
“Simon, where is Harry? He usually spends time with Charlotte now.”
Kingsley rose and then picked up George before handing him off to Louisa. “He is changing as I should also do. I didn’t want to waste my opportunity to see my nephew.”
“Your Grace, Lord and Lady Radley are here, as is Lord Ainsley,” a footman said from the threshold.
Emma and Kingsley both stared over at Louisa, who rubbed her temples. “Ask Nurse to come up and take care of George. Tell our guests that I will be there presently.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I do not know, so don’t ask,” Louisa said to them both before handing George to Emma. “I must change into something presentable before greeting them.”
Louisa ran off as George started to fuss. Emma held him tightly and swayed to calm the infant. After a few moments, he settled down.
“Ainsley can only be here for one reason,” Kingsley said with a slight grimace. “Will you accept him?”
She slid a glance at the tall man and shrugged. “I have not decided yet. Is George asleep?”
Kingsley walked around until he could see the baby’s eyes. “I believe you have done it, Miss Drake. The boy is fast asleep. Please excuse me, but I also must change.”
As he walked away, she realized with Ainsley here, the opportunity to scratch off number four and have her first kiss might come to pass. With Louisa and Harry preoccupied with their new guests, there should be plenty of opportunities to sneak away. The ducal home was huge, with a plethora of empty rooms where she could allow him a quick kiss. She rubbed George’s back and smiled. This would be the perfect chance.
#
SIMON SLAMMED THE DOOR to his bedchamber. What the bloody hell was Ainsley doing here? And why in hell did it bother him so much? She deserved Ainsley. He was a good man, albeit in desperate need of money to get his estates back in order, but still, Simon had no doubt earl would treat her well.
After changing out of his damp clothes, he took a deep breath and headed to the salon. As he walked down the stairs, his two other nephews raced past him to get to the nursery and find Charlotte.
“Good afternoon, boys.”
“Good afternoon, uncle,” they said in unison.
“You really should walk up the steps,” he reminded them.
“Yes, sir.”
Good God, was he becoming the responsible uncle? He reached the salon and could hear his half-sister’s voice already.
“Good afternoon, Daphne.” He looked over at her husband and said, “Radley.”
She stopped midsentence and looked at him. “What are you doing here, Simon?”
“I was invited.” He smirked.
Daphne glanced away quickly. “Well, I certainly didn’t mean to intrude, but when I had heard Harry had come down to Worth, I thought it would be an excellent idea to do the same. There is plenty of room here.”
“Come along, you two, play nice,” Radley said as he reached for a biscuit.
“Where is Harry?” Simon asked Louisa.
“In the library with Charlotte. He will be here in a moment.”
“I shall find him.” Anything to get away from his sister. They barely tolerated each other, no matter how hard Harry tried. The library door was closed, so Simon quietly opened it and peered inside.
“Then what happened, Papa?”
“My father was furious with me. He sent me off to Eton in the hope that I would learn to be a respectable young man.”
“Did it work?”
“No,” Simon replied as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“Uncle Simon,” Charlotte said with a giggle. “It’s Papa’s story, not yours.”
Simon looked at Harry, who seemed in far better spirits with his daughter on his lap, recounting stories of his childhood. He sank into a velvet wingback chair next to them. “Did he tell you about the time he went to India and how sick he was on the ship?”
Her brown eyes widened. “You were sick?”
Harry smiled down at her. “Very. And on the return trip too. But you were only a baby, so you don’t remember. Your mother gave me some herbs, and I felt so much better. She was very intelligent.”
“Even for a heathen?”
Harry went still. “What do you mean?”
“I heard a maid say that my mother was a heathen, and so was I.”
Simon sighed, hating how people thought of his beautiful niece because her mother had been Indian. “You are certainly not a heathen, Charlotte. A heathen is a person who doesn’t believe in God. Your mother was no heather, either. She believed in God and married in the church.”
“Did you know her, Uncle Simon?”
“No, I never met her. I only met your father a short time after she died.”
Charlotte frowned. “But you’re Papa’s brother. How did you not know him?”
Harry shifted. “That is a question for when you are older.”
“I’m five now. I should know everything.”
Both Harry and Simon laughed at the precocious girl.
“Your cousins are in the nursery waiting for you,” Simon said, hoping it would take her mind off her bastard uncle.
She scrambled off her father’s lap and raced out of the room.
“She is going to be the death of me,” Harry said as he rose out of his seat. “I suppose I must go greet my unwanted guests.”
“You seem to have a lot of them this week, including me.”
“You’re not unwanted, Simon. I should have thought to invite you too. Perhaps Daphne is feeling the same way I am and needed company.”
Simon wasn’t about to tell his brother that their sister seemed all too well. They walked back into the salon to find Ainsley, and Miss Drake had joined them. Seeing Ainsley sitting next to her on the sofa, Simon steeled his emotions. She was better off with Ainsley than a bastard with a sordid reputation. A purveyor of vice.
“Kingsley, I hadn’t expected to see you here,” Ainsley said with a nod.
“Indeed? You didn’t think I would be invited to my brother’s home?”
“Simon,” Louisa warned with a glare to him.
“Not at all,” Ainsley continued with a tight smile. “I only thought you would be too busy with your gaming hell.”
Yes, insult the working man worth tenfold the penniless earl. Even Simon’s estate in Kent was larger than Ainsley’s two combined. Not that Simon visited Kent very often. He’d won the land when a baron couldn’t stop gambling away his fortune. It was also how he’d come to own a lovely town home in Mayfair, which he leased each year for an outrageous sum of money.
“How was your trip down, my lord?” Miss Drake asked quietly to break the tension filling the room.
Ainsley turned his attention and charms on her. “Lovely until we hit the rain. But your brother-in-law’s family was wonderful company.”
Simon watched as Ainsley attempted to captivate Miss Drake’s attention. She seemed very polite, but he didn’t believe her reaction to the earl was anything but good manners. She didn’t appear the least bit attracted to Ainsley. Unlike the time in the butler’s pantry at Lady Huntley’s ball. She’d trembled with Simon’s nearness. Her breathing shallow and swift as if she’d wanted him to touch her...kiss her.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, wondering what her lips would feel like against his, how she would taste as his tongue brushed hers. With a quick shake of his head, he dismissed the idea. Emma was Louisa’s sister.
And he was nothing more than a wealthy bastard.