His Dark Enchantress (Books We Love Regency Romance) (36 page)

“For you, my love, I’ll arrange anything.”

He was only gone a short while, but returned with a maid who brought hot water, fresh towels and a hairbrush.

Once he was certain she had everything she needed, Lucius gave her directions to his private parlour and went downstairs.

When she followed a little later, she was puzzled to hear the buzz of voices. Curious, she paused outside the door and took a quick look inside.

Lucius was standing in front of the fireplace. Edward sat with his back to the door with Noble and Tockington opposite him. Noble saw her first and got to his feet.

Emmaline walked into the room with a radiant smile on her face.

“I am so pleased to see you all.”

Edward pushed back his chair and stood up, grinning with pleasure at seeing her. She reached up and pecked him on the cheek, but the look of horror on Noble’s face at such impropriety caused her to check and simply grasp his and Tocky’s hands in gratitude.

“We couldn’t let his Lordship have all the fun,” said Noble gruffly, blinking away a tear. “Now you’re recovered, my lady, me and Tocky will get out of your way and ready the carriage.”

Tockington simply nodded, almost as overcome as Noble at Emmaline’s attentions.

“Well, that’s something I never thought to see,” Lucius said wryly after they had left the parlour.

“What?” Emmaline helped herself to bacon, sausage and eggs from the servers on the side table.

“My groom and coachman totally at a loss for words.”

Emmaline heaped food on her plate.

“How clever of you to arrange an English breakfast,” she said, aware of Lucius’ curious gaze on her.
She ignored him and turned to Edward. “Edward, do you think you could find me a croissant and tea, please?”

“Of course, Lady Clifton.” Edward left the room.

“You know, my sweet,” Lucius said casually, “it is normally my position to give instructions to my staff.”

Emmaline paused, a piece of sausage speared on her fork half way to her mouth.

“Oh, have I displeased you?”

“No, minx, you have not, but please do not make a habit of it.”
The humour in his eyes belied the bite in his words.

Lucius poured himself a cup of coffee, lounged in a chair beside the fire and watched Emmaline eat. She paid him no heed as her meal disappeared, followed as quickly by the
croissant brought in by the maid, all washed down by copious cups of tea. At last she sat back, replete.

“I needed that,” she said. She
dabbed her mouth with her napkin and laid it on the table beside her empty plate.

“Obviously.” Lucius watched her face for a moment longer
. “Do you have any recollections of last night?”

It had all been so familiar to her. One man standing, one man dead. The
echo of a pistol shot. Smoke hanging in the air. The only difference was having a knife held at her neck. She reached up and fingered the bandage covering the wound caused by the blade.

“Too many,” she said quietly.

“I feared you would not understand what I wanted you to do.”

“My fear was that I would not have enough room to throw myself to one side once I saw your finger move on the trigger.”

“You were magnificent,” Lucius whispered.

“I was, was I not?” Emmaline moved into his arms and nestled there as if it were the most natural place for her to be. “And now, will you please take me home?”

CHAPTER
32

The carriage slowed and turned between the tall, arched wrought iron gates that stood open like welcoming arms. Emmaline glanced up at the imposing overhead bearing the Avondale crest as they passed beneath.

Eagerly looking out of the window, she noticed the horse chestnut trees now wore shades of yellow and gold and their leaves were beginning to fall. They had still been green when she left. Had she really been away so long?

The horses trotted steadily along the drive, their harness occasionally jingling and their hooves beating a steady rhythm on the road. The sound changed to that of shifting gravel as the carriage slowed, turned around the sweep and as it came to a halt, Emmaline gasped.

The
staff was all outside, huddled in little groups at the top of the steps, waiting to greet her. Tears welled in her eyes at the unexpected but obvious welcome.

Noble quickly let down the step. Lucius reached for her hand
, helped her down and led her up the steps as he had done on her first day there, but now she was coming home.

Hammond, Mrs. Hammond, Mrs. Swift, the maids and footmen, were all smiling and suddenly shy as she hugged or shook hands with them.

As she and Lucius walked towards the main entrance, Emmaline looked back at Mrs. Swift.

“If
it’s not too much trouble, Mrs. Swift, may I have a bowl of custard?” She moved to walk on, but turned back again. “And some of those little queen cakes that are so delicious? In the library, if you please.”

“Right away, my Lady.” A broad smile slowly grew on Mrs. Swift’s face and she nudged Mrs. Hammond. “Told you.”

Mrs. Hammond frowned. “Told me what?”

“There’s a bun in that there oven.” Mrs. Swift bustled off to the kitchen, gathering up the maids on her way like a hen with chicks.

They had not long been settled in the library when Hammond announced a visitor for his Lordship, a Lord Skeffington, and was his Lordship at home to visitors?

“Skeffington?” Lucius looked puzzled. “What the devil’s he doing here? Yes, of course show him in, Hammond.”

Emmaline took a seat at a round library table set in the window. She looked up at the sound of footsteps to see a golden haired slender man, a good head taller than Lucius, make his entrance. So intent was he in greeting Lucius, he did not see her.

“Good to see you, Skeff.” Lucius extended his hand which was warmly shaken by the visitor. “I’m glad to see you, but Avondale is a little off your beaten track, is it not? Are you staying?”

“Kind of you, Avondale, but no.” Skeffington took the seat Lucius offered him. “Staying in Bath with m’ mother, of all the dashed things. She’s there for the waters, of course. A vile treatment, but she swears she’s better for it. But, as I was relatively close by, I thought I’d come to collect.”

“Collect?” For a moment Lucius could not think what Skeffington meant, but then his fogged mind cleared. “Oh, the bet.”

“Yes, the bet.” Skeffington’s face wore a mischievous grin.

“And what bet would that be, gentlemen?” asked Emmaline sweetly. She went to stand by Lucius who, she noticed, looked suddenly uncomfortable.

Lord Skeffington got to his feet and bowed to her.

“Lady Clifton, I take it?”

“That is correct, sir.” She turned to Lucius. “What bet, dear heart?”

She looked up at him, her eyes very blue, very clear, the question in them unmistakeable. He wavered, but only for a moment.

“Before I met you,” he told her, “I laid a bet at Brooke’s that I would not marry before I was forty. But then I did meet you, and,” he shrugged, “lost the bet.”

“Oh.” Emmaline looked thoughtful for a moment. “Have I cost you a great deal?”

“Reduced me to penury,” Lucius said mournfully.

She gurgled with laughter at that and cuffed him on the arm as Fred brought in her tray.

“Oh good,” she said, and indicated where he should set it. “Please excuse me, Lord Skeffington. We have only shortly arrived home and I am ravenous.”

She smiled and Lucius noticed the hint of a dimple in her cheek. A dimple? Had she one before? He thought not, but Skeffington was asking him about the trout streams at Avondale and shortly the two men were engaged in a deep conversation
about fishing.

***

Lucius threw out an arm and realized Emmaline was not in bed beside him. They had gone to bed late and soon fallen into a deep sleep. It was not yet light so what time must it be? He knuckled sleep out of his eyes and looked around for her.

Flames in the hearth sparked and leaped as if the fire had just been stirred into life. The soft glow illuminated Emmaline’s delicious form and Lucius
padded silently across the floor to join her. She looked up as he stopped beside her, her eyes dark, a sweet smile curving her lips. Would she ever tire of him? He hoped to God not.

As he came close to her, he saw a trail of something dark trickling from her mouth, down her chin. Saw, in the flickering firelight, the pomegranate she held in her hand.

Holding his gaze with hers, she bit into the fruit again.
Juice spurted as her small, white teeth crushed the seeds and left them glistening on her lower lip.

Lucius leaned in, caught the juice on his tongue, lapped it from her skin, caught the seeds and swept them into his own mouth.
A moan of desire erupted from his throat and Emmaline dropped the fruit and reached up for him.

His hands were in her hair, under her robe, seeking, stroking, holding her to him. His lips demanded, plundered. His blood roared as Emmaline’s hot, sweet tongue sought his.

Lord, how he wanted her. How he wanted to taste her, drink from her, sink into her. The madness that had invaded his mind the instant he saw her now ran riot as he savoured every inch of her. She was no longer his shy, virgin bride but a hot wanton woman, gazing at him with lust filled eyes.

In a tangle of arms and legs they sank to the floor. Emmaline pushed his arms back and straddled him, threw her head back with a hoarse cry as she settled onto
the full length of his erection. Lucius ran his hands over her hips, her waist and up to cup her breasts.

She was curvier, more voluptuous, her breasts heavier than he remembered. He ran his thumbs over her peaked nipples and he forgot that thought as she screamed with pleasure. The primal sound made him shiver.

She rode him hard, gasping, crying, calling his name as she collapsed onto his spent body.

For a moment they lay still,
their hearts racing, blood heaving, both replete. As, their bodies began to cool Lucius reached behind him and caught her robe to throw over them. She snuggled into his side, burrowing into his warmth.

He held her close and closed his eyes. He had never thought to love again, had never wanted the pain of it.
His eyes pricked with tears at the thought he might have lost Emmaline, but here she was, soft and sweet in his arms.

“I do love you so,”
he said softly.

Emmaline stilled against him.

“What did you say?” she whispered.

“I do love you so,” he
repeated as he looked down at her. “Did you doubt it?”

Emmaline’s silence
told him that she did.

“Silly goose,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I loved you from the start. I tried not to but you, Lady Clifton, stole my heart
.”

“So this was never a marriage of convenience?”

“The only thing convenient about it was that it kept you by my side.”

“Oh, Lucius, how foolish we have been,” Emmaline said with a laugh.

Her eyes glowed as she smiled at him and he gathered her into his arms.

EPILOGUE

Emmaline sat in the window seat in the Peacock Room, her arms wrapped around her bent knees, and looked out over the park.

It was October. The morning sun shone out of a crisp, clear blue sky burnishing the crowns of oaks and elms, horse chestnuts and beech trees. Their autumn colours glowed with gold and amber, bronze and orange making them look like strange fruit floating in the thick mist still blanketing the ground.

There was so much to look forward to. Juliana and William were to be married at Avondale Park at Christmas. Caroline and Lord Chulmleigh and their daughters were coming to stay. The Berkeley Square house would be closed up and the staff from there would help
with the festivities here. Edward had proved himself to be adept at organizing which left her and Lucius little to do.

She shifted her arms from her knees to cradle
the slight dome of her belly. And in May... her thoughts were interrupted as Lucius came into the room, a frown on his face.

“You have remarkably high placed friends, sweetheart.” He handed her a letter. “This arrived by special messenger. It is a royal seal, is it not?”

Emmaline looked at the insignia and her hand trembled a little as she took the letter from Lucius.

“It is the seal of the Prince of Orange.”

She broke it and unfolded the heavy parchment. Her lips moved silently as she read the contents. When she finished reading, she cried out in surprise and covered her face. The letter fell from her hand.

Lucius stooped and picked it up, alarmed at what it may contain but when he looked at Emmaline again he saw relief behind her tears and the unsteady smile on her face.