A Kiss Before Dawn (2 page)

E
mily reined in her horse and drew to a halt at the edge of the woods that bordered the Ellington estate. Shifting in her saddle, she released a sigh and reached up to shade her eyes with one hand as she gazed out over the panorama before her.

Earlier that morning, when she'd first set off on this excursion, the meadow behind the house had been shrouded by a thick carpet of fog, but the sun had long ago burned away the mist. Now, the open expanse spread out before her in an endless sea of green. The very air was redolent with the scent of the wildflowers that grew in profusion just beyond the tree line, while the lazy buzzing of insects drifted to her on the breeze.

And perched on a hill in the distance, resembling a re
gal queen watching over her subjects, was Knighthaven, its mullioned windows winking and glinting in the sunlight.

Emily loved her home with every fiber of her being, and normally she would have looked upon the scene with a sense of fierce pride, would have basked in the sheer beauty of the day. But not now. After the dark pit of despair her life seemed to have fallen into, she had to wonder if she would ever take such enjoyment in anything ever again.

She bit her lip, brushing a tousled curl back off her forehead. She'd been so certain that an early-morning ride would serve to take her mind off her troubles, but she should have known there would be no escaping the nightmare that haunted her every waking moment. It seemed she would never be free of the lies and the guilt.

Just remember you're doing it for Tristan and Deirdre
, she reminded herself vehemently.
Not to mention the babe to come, and all the children at Willow Park who rely upon them
. Her brother and his wife were the only true family Emily had ever known, and she loved them dearly. She would not allow them to be torn away from her.

Not for any reason.

Some of her anxiety must have translated itself to her mount, for Artemis suddenly tossed her head and gave a loud snort, pawing the ground. Emily couldn't restrain a slight smile as she laid a calming hand on the animal's neck. “I'm sorry, girl. I'm being a bit of a wet blanket, aren't I?”

She never had been able to hide anything from
Artemis. The chestnut mare had been a gift from her brother soon after they had come to live permanently at Knighthaven, and no one else could read her moods so well. The only other soul she'd ever been as close to had been—

But she halted that thought before it could go any further. There was no use thinking of him. Not now.

Tapping a heel to her horse's side, she started back along the path toward Knighthaven at a sedate walk. Perhaps she should have gone with her first instinct and sent a message along to Adam at Brimley Hall asking him to join her. After all, the dashing, golden-haired Viscount Moreland could be very entertaining, and she usually quite enjoyed herself in his company. But today she had felt the need to be alone with her thoughts, so she had resisted the urge to extend the invitation.

She couldn't keep on this way, she acknowledged in despair, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her worries. But for now she could see no other options open to her. If she did not follow her tormentor's instructions to the letter, there was no telling what the consequences might be. It was quite likely that she could lose the family she was fighting so hard to protect.

The mere possibility filled her with a sense of terror left over from her lonely and neglected childhood.

At that moment, the track Emily had been following broke from the trees and converged with another path that led directly up the hill to the stable yard at Knighthaven. Nudging Artemis into a quicker pace, she suddenly became aware of the sound of thundering
hoofbeats approaching much too fast from the rear and glanced back in alarm.

A large black horse came cantering around the bend in the trail, on top of her before she could shout out a warning. The rider yanked back on his reins, barely avoiding a collision, but the near-disaster was enough to frighten Artemis. The mare gave a shrill whinny and reared up on her hind legs, and the next thing Emily knew, she was sliding from the saddle to land with a jarring thud in the dirt.

Stunned, she lay on her back, staring up at the sky through the thick canopy of tree branches that crisscrossed above her as she struggled to regain the breath that had been knocked from her lungs. Then, through the buzzing in her ears, she heard someone calling her name, and became aware that the other rider had dismounted from his horse and was striding toward her.

“Emily?”

She pushed herself to a sitting position, unable to suppress a soft moan as the landscape seemed to spin around her. After a second or two, however, the world righted itself, and she was able to focus on the figure bending over her.

Her heart shuddered to a stop in recognition.

The man staring down at her was tall and leanly muscled with the lithe, casual grace of a jungle predator. Thick, tawny hair the color of a lion's mane just brushed wide shoulders, and a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes set deep in a face of chiseled planes and angles studied her with the piercing quality of a well-honed sword.

No. It can't be…

But it was. She knew there could be no denying it. That striking visage had once been as familiar to her as her own.

Peter Quick had come home.

 

As Peter gazed down at Lady Emily, noting her shaken expression and dazed eyes, he couldn't help but marvel at the capricious whims of fate. He should have known the one person he wanted most to avoid was bound to be the one person he saw upon his arrival at Knighthaven.

When he had first rounded the bend in the path and seen her on the trail before him, he'd known in an instant of chilling fear at the realization that he might not be able to stop his mount in time. It had been a near-miss, and her tumble from the saddle had set his heart to pounding at a frantic pace that had yet to slow.

“Emily, are you all right?”

“You!”

The word vibrated in the air between them, rife with a mixture of shock and disbelief. The underlying thread of disdain struck him far harder than he would ever admit, and he fought to gather his customary façade of indifference about him as a shield.

“Yes. Me.” His tone was soft, deliberate. “And as you appear to be unable to answer my queries regarding your well-being, I suppose I shall have to ascertain your condition for myself.” He leaned closer to her in a purposeful manner, lending credence to his words.

Emily gasped and glared up at him mutinously, as if
daring him to touch her. “Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine.”

“Are you certain? That was a hard fall.”

“Of course I'm certain. It was only a small spill, and it's not as if I've never fallen off a horse before.”

“Ah, yes. I seem to remember one incident in particular. It was our first year in Little Haverton, and one of the Willow Park boys had dared you to ride your brother's new stallion. You wound up in the nearest watering trough, I believe.”

A becoming shade of pink flooded her cheeks and she grimaced, as if she regretted reminding him of the embarrassing occurrence. “Yes, well, I always did have more nerve than sense. And that just goes to prove my point. I'm rather used to such unfortunate mishaps.”

“Yes, you do tend to have a bad habit of getting into trouble, don't you?”

Emily's flush deepened and she started to struggle to rise. Peter instantly shot out a hand to catch her elbow, steadying her as she stood, and though she didn't jerk away from his touch, he felt her stiffen in response.

“Where is Artemis?” she asked, glancing about her with a worried look.

“Right over there.” Peter jerked his head toward where the mare stood next to his own gelding, Champion, munching away on a patch of grass. “She seems to have more than recovered.”

Emily took a step in her mount's direction, but she suddenly seemed to falter and her breath hissed through her teeth, her brow furrowing with obvious pain.

Peter's grip on her arm tightened. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing. My ankle is a bit sore, that's all.”

“Here. Let me help you.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Quick, that I am not in need of your assistance. If you would kindly cease hovering—”

“And if you would cease being so obstinate—” Peter let out a curse as she ignored him and took another tottering step forward. “Oh, for the love of—”

Before she could utter a word in protest, he swept her up into his arms.

Dear God, she was so small, so delicate. How easily she could have been badly hurt in their near-collision. The feel of her dainty curves pressed against his chest had his nether regions reacting in a predictable male fashion that he could only pray she wouldn't notice.

“What are you doing?” she cried out, clutching at his shoulders as he started to carry her across the clearing toward a nearby tree stump. “Put me down at once!”

That was probably a very good idea. The sooner he had her out of his arms, the sooner he could distance himself from the powerful effect she seemed to have on him. “Gladly.”

He plopped her down on the stump without ceremony, then knelt next to her feet, reaching for the hem of her skirt.

“Mr. Quick!”

He froze and looked up at her. She had changed little in the last four years. She was as beautiful, as luminous as ever. In an elegant riding habit of royal blue with her blond curls swept up under a matching feathered hat, she looked every inch the pure and golden angel he'd always thought she was. A bit of a rumpled angel, to be
sure, with her dress dirt-stained and her hat askew, but an angel nonetheless.

She swallowed visibly, then lifted her chin before continuing in a haughty tone. “Really, Mr. Quick, this is hardly necessary. I told you I'm fine.”

He was Mr. Quick now, was he? What had happened to her words of love, the husky endearments she had once whispered to him?

Peter's mouth curved in a wry grimace. It wasn't as if he didn't know the answer to that. And he was well aware that he deserved every bit of the animosity he could see lurking in those fascinating violet eyes.

Forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand, he assumed a stern expression. “Whether you like it or not, Lady Emily, I intend to check you for further injury, and it will go much faster if you cooperate. I promise you, I shall enjoy this no more than you will.”

Her Cupid's bow lips tightened. But to his surprise, instead of arguing, she crossed her arms and leveled her cool gaze over his shoulder, as if it were no longer worth it to her to fight him.

Taking a deep breath, he bent to his task. Lifting the hem of her skirt, he carefully removed her riding boots and slid his hand along one ankle. Though he tried to remain detached, there was no ignoring the well-shaped turn of that ankle or the warmth of her skin through her stockings. He quickly moved to the other foot and examined it as thoroughly, noticing when she gave a small wince in response to his gentle probing.

“This one?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She shrugged, but refused to look at him.

He continued to run his fingers over the obviously tender area. “Well, nothing appears to be broken. It seems you've just twisted it.” He lowered her foot to the ground before speaking again. “I owe you an apology, my lady.”

Her startled gaze finally swung back to him. “For?”

“For frightening your horse and causing your accident. I'm afraid I was lost in my thoughts and was going much too fast, but I had no idea that anyone was on the path in front of me. It never occurred to me that anyone from Knighthaven would be out riding this early.”

Emily looked down at her gloved hands in her lap. “Lately I've become a bit of an early riser, and I find that a morning ride sometimes helps me to relax.”

“You? An early riser? As I recall, you used to lie abed until almost noon.”

She ducked her head, and Peter wondered if she was thinking about all the times he had slipped away from Willow Park and climbed the trellis up to her room at Knighthaven to tap on the glass and tempt her into joining him for an early-morning adventure. She had always grumbled and scolded him for waking her, but she had always forgiven him.

And she had always gone with him.

“More than one thing has changed in the last few years,” she said stiffly before meeting his gaze once more, her eyes shadowed and dark with distrust. “Why are you here?”

Peter felt his eyebrows wing upward at her rather curt manner. “You know, one might almost be excused for thinking you aren't pleased to see me.”

She shot him a glare. “I beg your pardon, but surely you must agree that I have every right to be surprised by your appearance? On your past few visits to Little Haverton, you haven't ventured near Knighthaven. You've always stayed at Willow Park.”

Ah. So she
had
noticed his avoidance of the Ellington estate. And here he'd thought she'd been completely oblivious. He should have known better. “That's true. But I'm sure that my presence here would have only made it awkward for both of us.”

“Perhaps. That doesn't answer my question, however. Why are you here?”

“Your brother invited me.”

“Tristan? He's home from London?”

“He should be soon. His carriage wasn't far behind me.”

When he and Tristan had set off at dawn from the inn they'd passed the night at, Peter had chosen to make the rest of the short journey to Little Haverton on horseback, feeling the need for some time alone to sort out the chaos of his thoughts. It hadn't helped, and running into Emily in such a fashion had only served to unsettle him further.

Frowning, he rose and took a step back from her. “Perhaps we should head for the house if you want to be able to greet Tristan when he arrives.”

Emily's expression closed up once more. “Yes, of course.”