Wicked Designs (The League of Rogues) (8 page)

“I…I don’t think I would mind so much if you called me Emily, Your Grace. I dislike being called Miss Parr.” It was improper, of course but with everything between them, propriety was the least of her worries.

“If you wish, Emily, but then I must insist you stop ‘Your Gracing’ me.” The sun paled against the bright shine of his eyes and Emily’s heartbeat fluttered in response.

“I moved in with Uncle Albert a year ago, after my parents died.”

“I heard they were deceased. May I ask how?” Godric guided his black gelding closer to her. Her mount playfully nipped at his horse’s front flank.

“They were lost at sea. My father was headed to New York to see his shipping company there. My mother insisted on accompanying him.” The pain of her parents’ loss was deep, one she’d buried only a short time ago. “I had been staying with family friends when I received word. The next day my uncle came to collect me.”

“What were their names?”

Emily’s throat constricted. “Clara and Robert.”

“And you have no other siblings?”

She shook her head. “None. My mother miscarried twice after me. They stopped trying after that. Too much pain.” Why she was sharing such intimate details with a man she barely knew was beyond her.

Godric looked away from her. “My mother died in childbirth when I was a boy. The babe died with her.”

There were no words that could ease the hurt of losing a loved one, especially a parent. One felt lost, with no chance of salvation. Nothing could replace the sheltering warmth and security of a parent. To be robbed of that was akin to losing one’s innocence.

Godric spoke again. “You have not really grieved, have you?”

It was less a question and more an observation. How odd that talking to Godric about her tragedy should be so easy. He was a stranger, yet already few barriers stood between them.

“No, I haven’t.” They stopped their horses. She let her reins loosen in her fingers as her horse ducked his head to steal a bite of grass.

“I think that a part of me will never really accept that they’re gone. It is as though I expect them to roll up in a carriage at Uncle Albert’s any day now to take me home.” Emily’s voice wavered a little.

Godric’s eyes darkened. Emily noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes. Out here, beneath the sun, without the pace of the day, he looked bone weary. “You must have loved your mother very much.”

“I loved her the way I’ve never loved anyone else.” He spoke so softly, it passed as more of a shared thought.

A desire flipped in Emily’s heart. Before, she’d wanted to hurt him the way she’d been hurt by his cold, calculated kidnapping. But now…now she saw a man who life had wounded deeply and she wanted to erase the worries that creased his brow. It reminded her of an injured badger she and her father had found in the garden a few years before. It had broken its leg and when they’d tried to help it, it had bitten him, drawing blood. Godric was very much like that animal. Hurt and blindly striking out in his own defense.

“I imagine she loved you just as much.”

“Thank you, Emily. I’m sure wherever they are, your family must be missing you just the same.”

He meant it. His sincerity manifested in the glimmer of his eyes and the lift of his lips into a grim smile. A man weighed down by countless sins, believed in heaven and an afterlife. For the briefest second she couldn’t help but wonder perhaps if rogues could be redeemed?

Godric reached over the small space between them and slipped his hand around hers. Neither had bothered to wear riding gloves. His bare hand enveloped hers. The warmth of his hand, so much larger than her own, offered a comfort she didn’t expect—a state of peace she recalled from evenings with her parents before the fire, settled on the floor as they laughed at the humor columns in the paper. Godric’s thumb stroked the sensitive plane of her palm, yet the seemingly innocent contact teased her body with a desire for something she did not understand. With that simple truth, all thoughts of her uncle and her parents evaporated. His touch made her want to follow him to the ends of the earth to see where it might lead.

But she couldn’t let him win this game by wooing her into submission with tender words and caresses. Emily couldn’t afford to fall for this man. They were worlds apart. He was unlikely to marry for love and she wanted someone who could love as strongly as she did. She couldn’t stay, couldn’t take the risk of falling for him. Her parents would’ve wanted her to survive, and that required escaping the duke and finding someone to marry.

Emily studied the surrounding lands. A low stone wall, about five feet in height, rose from the ground a few hundred yards off.

“What is beyond that wall?” she asked casually.

“A pond and a meadow or two, beyond that the village of Blackbriar.”

A village? The fool might as well have drawn her a map to escape.

Godric kept his attention on Cedric, who raced his horse back and forth in the field, stretching the horse’s stride into a beautiful gallop.

Emily’s hand was still locked firmly in Godric’s grasp, complicating matters. Carefully, she extricated her hand from his, and he turned to see the reason she tugged free. Emily leaned forward to pat her horse’s neck.

“He’s a lovely creature.” She threaded her fingers through the thick mane of her gelding. She didn’t even have to look up to know that Godric smiled at her.

“Are you finding that you like horses?”

“Oh, yes. They are a bit frightening, but this one is ever so sweet.” She resisted the urge to laugh. She’d never been scared of horses in her life—the occasional goat, maybe, when the awful things nipped at the hems of her skirts—but never horses. Godric was in for quite a surprise.

She raised her head as though to follow Cedric’s progress across the field. She waited for the moment at which Cedric swung to the right, back toward the home.

She painted a look of shock and alarm on her face and pointed frantically in Cedric’s direction.

“Godric, look out! Highwaymen!”

Godric tensed, bracing for trouble and reared his horse around.

Emily dug her heels into her horse’s flanks and took off at a breakneck speed, straight for the wall, praying her horse could clear it. Blackbriar lay beyond the wall. She would seek help or hide until she found her way to London.

It took Godric several seconds to realize what had happened. Highwaymen, indeed.

Emily flew across the golden field, a warrior maiden at the apex of battle. Her lowered posture and natural control over the horse were evident. The girl was cleverer than he’d thought and he had been a fool by telling her about Blackbriar.

“Emily!” he roared.

She headed right for the wall and if she didn’t stop, the horse would throw her. She’d land in the lake on the other side, break her neck or drown.

He dug his boots into his horse’s sides, forcing it into action.

Moments later Godric was close on her heels, only twenty feet behind, his black gelding the fastest in the stables. He nearly shut his eyes as her horse reached the wall.

In one graceful arc, she cleared it, and a few seconds later, so did he.

Emily controlled her horse better than he expected, which had landed in perfect balance. She’d jerked her mount to the side, narrowly escaping a messy end in the shallows of the lake.

Godric was not so lucky. His horse panicked as its hooves landed in the soft muddy grass of the lake’s edge, and it balked, sending him head first into the water.

Emily slowed her horse when she heard another shout, this time one of fear. She turned just in time to see Godric clear the fence but get thrown from his horse. His body hit the surface of the lake in a loud splash and sank out of sight. She held her breath, waiting for him break the surface. Any moment he’d come up sputtering and humiliated.

Only he didn’t.

A thread of fear moved through her, whispering with guilt for letting a man like him die. He couldn’t die because of her reckless plan, he couldn’t. She was beginning, just a little, to understand him and she didn’t want his death on her conscience.

Emily cast a panicked look in the direction of Blackbriar, cursed under her breath and headed back to the lake. She refused to consider why—she owed Godric nothing.

She flung herself out of the saddle and plunged into the water nearest his entry. The lake was shallow near the edge but murky. She barely pinpointed the contours of Godric’s white shirt. She wrapped her arms about his chest and kicked hard, propelling them to the surface. He sagged heavily against her, unconscious, but she kept kicking, never more thankful that she was a strong swimmer. When she reached the shore, she was sucking in air as she clawed her way up the muddy embankment with Godric in tow. Her riding habit weighted her down as though she were dragging a boulder in addition to Godric’s body back to shore.

She rolled him onto his back and pressed her head against his chest. He wasn’t breathing.

“Oh, God, please don’t be dead.” Blood roared in her ears. She could barely think as panic swept through her. She had to focus.

There was one thing she could try. She’d seen a servant do it once, to a boy who fell in a pond.

Lifting Godric’s chin, she pinched his nose with one hand and cupped his chin with the other. Her mouth covered his as she breathed into him, praying it would revive him. She pulled back, waited a second, then tried again and again. The fourth time he stirred, and she nearly wept with relief. He was alive.

A hand caught her wet hair, and held her, keeping their lips locked together. Godric’s other arm snagged her waist and dragged her on top of him. He kissed her deeply before he rolled over to pin her beneath him.

Emily balled her fists and beat at his chest as his firm but soft lips explored hers. The taste of him blacked out all awareness beyond the satin of his lips. It was heated, but tempered with a seductiveness she hadn’t expected.

A moment of lucidity shocked her into awareness. She tried to kick out and free her legs and Godric pulled back a breathless moment.

“Easy, darling. I only wish to thank my rescuer.” Godric abandoned words and kissed her ruthlessly. She couldn’t let him do this. He couldn’t…couldn’t… Emily gasped against his mouth when his hand took hold of the underside of her right knee and caressed the bare skin of her thigh while he pushed his hips deeper into the cradle of hers. Shots of pleasurable pain danced up her legs. They needed to stop, yet she found herself wanting to experience the sensations his lips and hands were creating.

Waves of heat crested through her body, the power of it terrifying. Her body quaked as confusion warred with desire. She may not like the man, but his kisses, his caresses were starting to have an entirely wanton affect on her. The realization drew a tiny whimper from her and an answering growl of desire from the man on top.

The world winked out of existence, except for the rush of blood in her ears and the panting breaths. In. Out. In. Out. The symphony of sighs and gasps that danced between each breath in an endless waltz terrified her. The temptation to let go, to abandon herself and follow Eve’s footsteps. One taste, a mighty fall, and she would be lost forever.

Godric’s chest shook with silent laughter as he drank in her sweet taste—innocence like fine brandy, addictive and intoxicating. Joy heated his blood and warmed his heart. She’d come back for him, rescued him.

Her hands clenched his biceps, fingers digging into him the more he kissed her. By the time he’d lifted his head to gaze down at her, she was panting, and her hips rubbed instinctively against his own.

He was transfixed by the delicate blush of her cheeks, and the slightly upturned nose that created an impish charm.

Yet he sensed she feared him a little.

Emily had never been with a man, never been kissed until he’d captured her. A more practiced woman would have known what to do. He enjoyed the little instruction he’d given her. The temptation she presented was too much to resist. He moved one hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. Raw desire churned in the violet pools of her eyes, a hint of frustration added a shimmer that made him smile. She didn’t like that she enjoyed kissing him.

He found her reaction to him fascinating. Other women would gaze at him with slumberous eyes, and leisurely return his kisses, or in Evangeline’s case, bite him back. Emily’s eyes were bright and full of wonder tinged with anger. There was an eagerness in her lips, a searching in her hands as she stroked his shoulders. It was as though she was determined to enjoy herself, even if she didn’t like him. He liked the rebellious spirit in her. She was taking what she wanted from him. If she demanded he stop he would, even if it killed him. But until then he’d steal as many kisses as he could.

Godric wanted to spend days with her, explore her soft curves and find new ticklish spots. He wanted to bow down and worship at the altar of her sensual innocence. She was every bit the wanton, wild creature for which he’d spent years searching. He’d finally found her, and he would have her beneath him, atop him, against the wall, bent over the bed… Oh, the possibilities.

He hadn’t known a woman could taste like this, feel like this. He felt like a damned villain, having faked his drowning, but he’d wanted to see if she would return. His friends could have found her in Blackbriar easily enough, none of the shopkeepers would keep her presence a secret from him had he been searching for her.