Chapter 9

 

“You are very quiet this afternoon?” Felicia raised a questioning brow as the two ladies once again lingered over enjoying afternoon tea together. “Is that because, after observing you with both the Stirling brothers yesterday evening, you are as confused as I am as to which of them holds your affection?” she added teasingly.

Emma gave a pained wince. Pain which was not exclusive to her emotions but also included the aching of the rest of her body, as a pleasurable reminder of Adam’s lovemaking the previous night.

She had no doubt as to which of the Stirling brothers held her affections, had accepted during her lonely carriage ride home the previous night that she was not falling in love with Adam but had already fallen in love with him.

All while having absolutely no idea how he felt toward her.

His lovemaking last night had been beyond anything she might have imagined from Felicia’s previous revelations on the subject. Only for Adam to then send Emma home alone in his carriage.

Her emotions were still reeling as to the reason she had received such callous treatment. 

Had Adam taken what he wanted from her and felt no further necessity to continue those explorations just then?

Or had he been so disgusted by her unladylike responses he could not bear to be in her company a moment longer?

His silence today, on any subject, either by calling upon her or sending another letter, even one as dictatorial as the last one, was not helping Emma’s feelings of uncertainty.

Men, she had decided earlier as she changed to visit Felicia, were far more complicated than women, no matter what she may have previously heard to the contrary. Or, at the very least, Adam was too complicated for Emma to even begin to second guess his motives for doing anything.

Perhaps she had given in too easily the night before?

Or her response had been too wanton for what he required in a wife?

Whatever the reason for Adam’s silence today, Emma had not thought it prudent, after all, to tell her father of her decision to accept the Duke of Hawkwood’s offer of marriage. She would look very foolish indeed if Adam had now decided to withdraw his offer.

“Not at all,” she answered Felicia dismissively. “The duke and his brother had merely both engaged me in polite conversation.”

The other woman gave a snort. “I cannot say politeness is a virtue either of the Stirling brothers are known for. And did you see the sour look on Juanita Millbrook’s face when she saw you talking with them?” Felicia added with obvious glee. “Green does not even begin to describe her jealousy!”

Emma raised a hand to where she had earlier applied a dressing to cover the scratches on her neck. They had developed a light scabbing by this morning but were still visible as being exactly what they were; wounds inflicted by a vicious she-cat. Emma had decided, rather than put up with awkward questions from her father, or Felicia, to instead cover the wounds and make up her own reason for having done so.

“I do not recall seeing Lady Millbrook in the ballroom, no,” she dismissed truthfully; Juanita Millbrook had not been so unsubtle as to have challenged Emma in public but had chosen to attack her in the privacy of the ladies retiring room instead.

“It was most amusing,” Felicia chuckled. “I was about to come over and congratulate you for giving her the set-down when you suddenly disappeared.” She frowned. “Presumably that was when you went for your stroll. Did you injure yourself very badly?”

Emma had fabricated the story of having caught herself on a rose bush as she took a break from the entertainment by walking amongst the lush foliage of the Harper’s candlelit conservatory. “Not too badly, no,” she now dismissed. “But as it is rather unsightly I think it best if I do not attend the Thomas’s ball this evening.”

“Oh that is a pity,” Felicia sighed. “Perhaps—”

“His Grace, the Duke of Hawkwood, my lady,” the butler announced from the open doorway.

Emma stiffened at the mention Adam’s name. What on earth was he doing here? Which was a ridiculous thing for her to ask, when Langdon was one of his closest friends. Even so, it was disconcerting to know Adam was now in the same house as her. 

Felicia smiled blandly. “Did you inform His Grace my husband is not at home?” 

The butler nodded. “His Grace was very clear it was you he wished to see.”

“Indeed?” Felicia’s brows rose. “In that case you had better show him in.” She waited until the butler had departed before turning to Emma. “I wonder if the duke’s visit today has anything to do with your being here too?” she said archly.

“I very much doubt it,” Emma said scornfully, trying her best not to look flustered by Adam’s imminent arrival. 

He had been politeness itself the previous night as he accompanied her outside and ensured she was comfortably seated in his carriage before he returned to the house. 

He had treated her with the politeness Felicia claimed he did not have!

As if Adam had not just taken Emma to heaven and back. Several times.

Well if Adam had shown her a glimpse of heaven last night Emma felt as if she had been in hell ever since!

She had no idea what to make of his hot and then lukewarm behavior. Did not know how he could have treated her with the politeness of a virtual stranger after the intimacies they had just shared. Obviously Emma was not made of such fine distinctions as Adam was, nor could she possibly make a pretense of such sophistication.

“I will make my excuses and leave once social politeness has been satisfied,” she told Felicia.

“So it is Alexander Stirling with whom you are enamored!”

A blush warmed Emma’s cheeks. “I—”

“His Grace, the Duke of Hawkwood.”

Both ladies stood up as the duke swept into the room, Emma glancing at him surreptitiously from beneath her lashes as he strode over to his hostess to bend politely over the hand Felicia graciously held out to him.

He nodded abruptly in Emma’s direction to acknowledge her presence but did not make any attempt to approach her.

“Your Grace.” She curtseyed, her gaze lowered. Which did not mean she had not first observed how handsome Adam looked today in a perfectly tailored dark gray superfine and snowy white linen. “I am afraid I really must be going now,” she offered her regrets to Felicia. “I have some errands to run this afternoon before returning home.”

Her friend frowned her disappointment. “But—”

“You will be accompanying me in my carriage when I leave,” Hawkwood stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

Emma’s eyes widened, not sure if it was through indignation at his daring to order her about in public, or surprised at his wanting her to accompany him at all. Indignation won out. “My own carriage is waiting outside to take me wherever I wish to go.” Which, she realized belatedly, meant that Adam could not help but have seen the Harris carriage outside when he arrived, and so known of her presence here.

“I have already informed your father that you will be traveling home with me,” he bit out at Emma incredulous gasp.

Her father? When and where had Adam spoken to her father?

Her parent had still been out to lunch when Emma left the house earlier, so Hawkwood could possibly have met him at his club?

Or called at her home and spoken to her father there…?

Either way, Emma did not appreciate Hawkwood’s highhandedness in thinking he could tell her what to do without so much as a by your leave, and she could feel the heat of that anger rising in her cheeks as she prepared to tell him so.

“I believe I will go and talk to the housekeeper regarding dinner this evening,” Felicia put in quickly; she had known Emma long enough to recognize the signs of her impending temper.

Neither Emma nor Hawkwood acknowledged their hostess leaving the room, which in the circumstances, was very rude of them. Instead their gazes were locked in a silent battle, green against gray, the one heated, the other icy.

Emma was finally the one to break the silence. “How dare you even think I would accept your intention to dismiss my carriage in that autocratic manner?”

Adam’s nostrils flared; he was in no mood to put up with Emma’s anger. Too much of her feistiness today and she was likely to end up bare-assed over his knee. “As we are both going to Harris House when we leave here it is ridiculous to go in separate carriages.”

“I— You— Why are you going to Harris House?”

Adam bristled at the suspicion in her tone. “For the same reason I called there an hour ago; so that your father and I might discuss the details of the marriage contract and you might begin the wedding preparations. Except,” he continued firmly as Emma would have spoken, “it seems my future bride has not informed her father of our betrothal this morning, as she had said she intended doing.” 

“Well…I…But you…” She looked completely flustered before lifting her chin in challenge. “Your manner last night did not indicate you still wished to marry me.”

“On the contrary,” he bit out. “I believe my behavior last night can have left you in no doubt as to my wishing to make you my wife.”

The color deepened in Emma’s cheeks. “I was referring to your coldness toward me when we parted.”

He scowled darkly. “What would you have had me do? Carry you upstairs to my bedchamber and fucked us both into exhaustion until morning, as I wanted to do?” He gave a harsh laugh at hearing Emma’s shocked gasp at the crudeness of his language. 

This woman, Adam had decided through a long and virtually sleepless night, had the power to turn him to drink. 

But as he had no intention of doing that the cold lash of his tongue would have to suffice. “Why is it so damned difficult for you to be where and do what you are supposed to do?” Adam had not enjoyed Harris’s surprise when he stated his business and the other man had looked completely blank about the subject. Worse, Harris had told him Emma was not even at home.   

Her eyes glittered like twin jewels as she glared at him. “Possibly because I am free to do as I wish and not a dog you can call to heel whenever the fancy takes you!”

Some of Adam’s anger deflated at the ridiculous image that brought to mind. Although he was rather partial, did have a fancy, to having Emma on her knees in front of him again…

Most of the reason for his restlessness during the night was due to the throbbing of his unsatisfied cock!

He could have taken care of the problem himself, but the last few weeks had shown him it would have served little purpose. The moment he even thought about Emma’s bared breasts, and the delicious taste of her pussy, his cock would have risen again just as painfully.

As it had done the moment he walked into Felicia Langdon’s sitting-room.

Emma’s hair glowed golden in the sunlight shining in through the window behind her, and her burnt orange day gown emphasized the creaminess of the swell of her breasts above that gown. Adam knew exactly what delights lay beneath that gown now.

The sooner Emma became his wife, and he could satisfy this uncontrollable lust, the better.

“Your father is perfectly happy for the two of us to arrive back at Harris House together,” Adam informed her loftily.

“So the two of you might discuss the details of the marriage contract and I might begin the wedding preparations.”

Adam sensed there was a trap in Emma having repeated his statement so accurately, but for the life of him he couldn’t discern where or how. “Yes.”

Emma glared. “I have yet to hear a marriage proposal.”

He scowled his irritation. “You know that is not the way things are done—”

“I think the two of us have already gone far and beyond the way things are done,” Emma snapped. “And if I am to marry you,” she drew herself up straighter still, “I have decided I shall require a marriage proposal first.”

When had she decided that?

No doubt, it was after Adam had ushered her from Hawkwood House in so timely a fashion the night before! 

Alexander had been right; there was much more to Miss Emma Harris than appeared on the surface. She was also, without a doubt, the most stubborn female it had ever been Adam’s misfortune to— To what? Want to marry? Most definitely. But Emma was more than that. Much more.

She was intelligent, independent, and like Adam, she did not suffer fools gladly. She was also the most artlessly responsive lover he’d ever known.

The ladies of the demimonde were tutored in the art of pleasing a man, and they were paid handsomely for it. The same with a mistress, except she usually required a house for giving exclusivity for the duration of the arrangement.

But Emma— Physically she gave all of herself, without reservation or artifice. She was all the more desirable because of it.

Adam gave a terse nod. “We will discuss it in my carriage on the drive to your home.”

Emma had no idea why she was being so stubborn and challenging Adam in this way. 

Except he infuriated her. 

Irritated her intensely. 

How was she supposed to have known how he would have preferred last night to end? She was not a clairvoyant, nor did she know him well enough as yet to discern the nuances of his mercurial moods. Why could he not have simply said he wanted to fu—make love to her? It would have saved her a wealth of unhappiness during those long hours of fitful sleep the night before.

“We will discuss it,” she answered him evenly. “But not in your carriage,” she added firmly. “No matter your opinion on the subject, I shall travel home as I arrived, in my own conveyance.”

“Stubborn, unreasonable, bloody female,” Adam muttered under his breath before drawing in a long and controlling breath. “Very well.” He nodded. “Once we arrive I will ask your father if we might have a few minutes alone together before any negotiations are made between the two of us on the marriage contract.”

“You intend to propose to me?”

“I intend to buck against Society, and ask you to marry me, yes.”

“Perhaps we will start a new fashion?”

“Perhaps,” he allowed dryly.  

It was a moment of triumph, and yet strangely Emma did not feel as if she had won anything, least of all their argument. How could she, when it felt as if Hawkwood was humoring her rather than agreeing her request was a reasonable one.

Possibly because she knew that request was totally unreasonable. It was the way of things that the male head of the household, after possibly consulting the female on the matter—it was not a given this would occur!—would then accept a marriage proposal on her behalf.

But Emma did not consider her relationship with Adam to have been in the least conventional so far, so why change things now? Most couples would not even have had a conversation alone together before their marriage let alone indulged in the intimacies she and Hawkwood had already shared.

Emma had no more time to ponder the subject as Felicia returned and Adam immediately made excuses for both Emma and himself to leave. Felicia’s expression, when she glanced at Emma, promised there would be lots of questions asked, and answered, the next time the two women met.

“I am waiting for another set-down in regard to my arrogance in having made our excuses for both of us to leave as if it is already my right,” Adam drawled as they walked down the front steps of the house together.

Emma lips twitched as she held back the laughter at hearing his resigned tone; she doubted the autocratic Duke of Hawkwood was accustomed to being rebuked, for any reason. But she did not need to win every argument between then, only most of them!

Besides, Emma had no intention of becoming predictable to him, and therefore boring. “Not at all,” she dismissed smoothly as her groom stepped forward to open her carriage door. “You are—” Emma gave a scream as she saw a dark and furiously buzzing cloud inside her carriage.