Wicked Designs (The League of Rogues) (29 page)

“Not yet. My coming out was cut short. You may have heard.” She raised a sardonic brow.

“Well, I shall take you, my dear. It is quite the sight! Fireworks, galas, and they have the best arrack-punch—”

A low chuckle interrupted Charles. Godric speared a piece of pheasant. “There is nothing in this world that could convince me to let you take Emily to those gardens alone. Don’t forget I was present the last time you had too much arrack-punch.”

“You’re ruining my fun.” Charles wore a smile, but a low edge sharpened his words. A challenge. “Emily would have a wonderful time with me. Wouldn’t you, Emily?”

“I imagine so, Charles, assuming you remained a gentleman.”

“For you, I would endeavor to be the perfect gentleman. I might even succeed.”

Emily blushed and tried to change the subject. “You flatter me, Charles. Now, do tell me what happened when you had too much arrack-punch?”

Godric answered her. “I believe Charles left more than one disappointed young lady alone that night under the delusion they would soon be wed to an earl.”

Charles set his wine glass down. “It’s not my fault I become overly romantic when I am a bit foxed. Every woman looks prettier, tastes sweeter, and even the dreaded prospect of marriage doesn’t sound as awful as usual.”

Godric laughed. “I’d love to meet a woman who could last one day married to you.”

Charles theatrically mimicked being stabbed in the heart. “That hurt, Godric!” He moaned, and feigned death.

Emily bit her lower lip to stifle a giggle. “You’ve never felt enough affection for a woman to want to marry her?”

Instantly resurrected, Charles said, “I’m an active man, my dear. I need a woman who could keep up with the fast pace of my life and as of yet, I’ve never encountered such a woman. I’d only marry a woman if she could understand that I, in all truth, can’t settle down.”

“I’ll find you a woman, Charles,” Emily promised. In brief moments she had glimpsed a startling melancholy in his expression.

“I thank you, Emily, but I’d much rather steal you away from that odious duke there.” Charles nodded his head in Godric’s direction.

Under the cover of the table Godric’s right hand settled on Emily’s knee. The heat of his large palm warmed her skin through the thin silk, but his hand merely patted her knee before vanishing again. It took her all her self-control to prevent a sigh upon being robbed of his caress, the warmth of his touch.

After dinner the party retired to the drawing room where the men poured glasses of port. Choosing then to retire, Emily made her excuses and left the men to drink.

Emily had reached the stairs when a whisper of silk on wood froze her in her steps.

Evangeline emerged from the shadows behind the staircase. “Tell me. How do you find your stay here? Your captor treats you well?”

Emily, unprepared for this remark, blanched. “Pardon?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I know Godric and his friends have abducted you.”

Emily recovered quickly. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Lying does not become you, Miss Parr.” Evangeline smiled, and Emily knew that the fear in her chest reflected in her features.

“I’m here of my own free will.”

“Of course. No doubt you are enjoying the warmth of Godric’s bed. You would not be the first. He does love to seduce innocent little creatures. It fans his pride, you see.” Evangeline’s words dug under Emily’s skin.

“You’re wrong about him,” Emily said, but the words felt thick and heavy on her tongue.

“May I might offer some advice, Miss Parr? Leave here and return to London. Godric will only break that delicate little heart of yours, or leave you with child. Even if he did care about you…I fear that would not stop
Monsieur
Blankenship from pursuing you. He is a very dedicated man.”

“What?” How could Evangeline know about Blankenship?

Evangeline hesitated, and the first hint of genuine emotion trespassed across her features. “I will be honest with you, I believe it would suit us both better.
Monsieur
Blankenship came to my residence. He told me of your abduction. I sensed right away he was… I forget the word…” A tiny crinkle furrowed her brow.

“Mad?” Emily supplied.

“
Oui
. Mad as Robespierre. He paid me to come here and provide information on you. He has more power than you would expect. Consequences do not matter to him, only getting what he wants. But then you know this.”

“Yes,” Emily admitted.

“What you do not know is that he’s hired men to retrieve you. Mercenaries, I am told. They are the lowest, vilest of men. Men who would happily murder Godric and his friends if they tried to protect you.”

Emily felt the blood drain from her face. “How do you know this?”

“
Monsieur
Blankenship boasted of his scheme. I do not wish to see bloodshed. It is vile and even I do not want to see Godric or his companions harmed. You
must
leave this place and convince
Monsieur
Blankenship you have left, or I am certain he will harm Godric and the others.” Evangeline plucked at one of her white silk sleeves but the woman’s hands trembled slightly. She was telling the truth.

“He… No… I can’t leave, even if I wanted to,” Emily said, more to herself than Evangeline. She knew that, between her love of Godric and his own iron hand over her freedom, she could never leave. It would be impossible.

“It is not an easy decision, I understand. You are a pawn in other men’s games. Although I am loath to admit it, at the moment, I am as well. Pawns are always sacrificed. It is not fair, but that is our lot,
n’est pas
? If you do not go, Godric will die.”

Evangeline was right. Godric would only get himself killed trying to protect her. What choice did she have? She was a pawn.

“The thing about pawns,” Emily said, almost to herself, “is if they reach the other end of the board, they become a queen.”

A smile flitted across Evangeline’s lips. “You play chess.
Très bien
.
Monsieur
Blankenship expects you to come to him at once, and though it is not my place to say, I think you should not go to him. I wish you gone from Godric’s life, but I do not wish you to fall into the hands of a madman. Find someone to take you in. You are a beautiful girl, and I believe you are no fool. You can find a protector.” Again, she paused, as though lost in memories. “It is how I survived. I am still crossing the board, as it were.”

Emily wasn’t sure how to react. She was taking advice from Godric’s former mistress and finding she reluctantly admired the woman. “Th…thank you, Miss Mirabeau.”

Evangeline nodded and left her alone.

Emily couldn’t let Godric or the others get hurt, which meant she would have to leave immediately. But she needed to find Jonathan Helprin first. Jonathan was driving the cart to Blackbriar for supplies, that much she knew. Jonathan’s open friendliness with Godric’s friends was improper, even rebellious after a fashion. It was that hint of rebellion she was pinning her hopes on. If she could convince Jonathan to help her escape, for Godric’s sake she might have a chance.

She turned and ran straight into Godric’s butler.

“Simkins!”

He bowed and stepped back. “A thousand pardons, Miss Parr. I did not expect anyone to leave the drawing room so early.”

“Don’t apologize, Simkins! The fault is mine. Could you please tell me where Mr. Helprin is?”

The butler’s white brows winged upward in surprise. “His Grace’s valet?”

Emily nodded. “Yes.”

“I believe he is in the servants’ quarters.” He seemed suspicious. “Has he incurred your displeasure?”

“No. I merely wished to see him briefly.” If Simkins didn’t trust her, her plan for escape would unravel in a matter of minutes.

“Well then, good night, Miss Parr.” Simkins smiled, bowed, then slipped into the drawing room, leaving her alone in the hall.

Emily dashed towards the servants’ stairs. After getting directions from a footman, she found Jonathan’s room and flung open the door. He sat on the edge of his bed. His white lawn shirt was half unbuttoned, and in his lap rested one of Godric’s fine hessian boots, which he was presently polishing.

He glanced up in surprise. His green eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of her alone. For a second Emily regretted the decision to come to him for help. She hadn’t forgotten the way he’d tossed her over his shoulder and carted her off to Godric when she’d crawled out the study window.

He set down the boot and stood. “You should not be alone, Miss Parr. I am obliged to return you to His Grace.”

“No, wait! I need to speak with you…” She started strong, but her tone became uncertain. Her heart skipped a beat as Jonathan advanced towards her. Had she made a mistake in thinking she could trust him, that she could persuade him to help her?

“With me? What would a proper young lady have to say to a valet?” He gave that same devastating half-smile Godric often flashed at her. He moved one arm around her body to swing the bedroom door shut behind her. She was trapped now, in more ways than one. Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to remember that this man cared for Godric and it was that loyalty which she hoped would save Godric’s life.

“I need your help.” She realized that if she spoke with Jonathan alone like this, she might give him the wrong impression about her. Too late to go back now. His body already leaned slightly towards her. He even loomed like Godric. Even though she hadn’t been successful in getting Godric to talk about Jonathan, she was no fool. Some looks simply ran in the blood. He claimed he had no siblings, and he never talked of cousins so few options remained. Who was Jonathan to him?

“I’d be happy to help you.” He raised his other hand, trailing it down her bare arm. Goose bumps erupted in the wake of that slow, forbidden caress. Lord, if he wasn’t Godric’s kin then she wasn’t a woman. She smacked his hand away.

She kept his attention on the matter at hand. “Can you take me to Blackbriar tomorrow? I have to escape. I’ll be dressed as a maid and you need to give me a ride in the cart, nothing more.”

“Are you asking me to betray my master?” Rather than look scandalized, like she’d expected, the sandy-haired devil had the nerve to grin.

Emily drew in a steadying breath. “As far as I am aware, he never forbade you to take me to Blackbriar, did he? If need be, I can elude you in the village and hide so you can honestly say you couldn’t bring me back.”

Jonathan eyed her critically. “Very well, Miss Parr. But first you must tell me why you are leaving. I’ve seen the way you look at His Grace. I can’t begin to fathom why you would want to run off.”

Emily drew a deep breath, praying she was doing the right thing. “I have to leave to save his life.”

Jonathan’s brows rose. “What?”

“It’s Blankenship, the man who came here with the magistrate. He plans to kill Godric and anyone else in his way to get to me. If I leave, he won’t have a reason to hurt anyone here.”

Suspicion narrowed the valet’s eyes. “How do you know this?”

“Godric’s mistress, Evangeline. She warned me, told me what would happen if I didn’t leave. Blankenship is mad. He’s already hired men for the job.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you? His Grace is truly in danger?”

Emily nodded. “I can’t risk anything happening to him.”

“Have you considered telling him what Evangeline told you?”

“Of course I have. But you know the man he is. Do you think he’d sit idly by under this kind of threat? No matter how matched they were?”

The valet considered her words. “No, the damned fool would rally his friends and go charging off to get killed.”

Emily’s shoulders sagged. “So you understand why I have to leave. He cannot know the truth or he will do something foolishly noble.”

“You do realize this is an extremely bad plan. The man has a temper that makes even angels quake with fear. He won’t be happy if you leave.”

She didn’t need Jonathan’s warning, she knew the risk she was taking. “It’s a choice between hurting him and killing him, and that isn’t really a choice is it?”

Jonathan deliberated a long moment. “Very well. I’ll take you to the village if you agree to my price.” She was trapped against the door, unable to escape. His warm breath fanned her face.

She raised her chin a little, hoping it would strengthen her resolve. “What price?”

“Hmm…” He studied her, looking for what she didn’t know. “I’ll decide later. Be ready to depart tomorrow.” He gently shoved her out into the hallway.

She hastily walked back up the servants’ stairs, then the main staircase as she headed into her bedchamber on the second floor and ducked inside.

“There you are, little vixen! I’ve been waiting for you to turn up.” Godric’s voice made her jump. “Thought you could slip away from me?” Godric chuckled, his hands encircling her waist.

The tension in her body relaxed as she realized he hadn’t overheard her conversation with Jonathan.

“No, of course not. I merely had to fix my hair, a few pins felt loose.” Her hand rose to her hair as though to show she’d fixed the matter.

The predatory gaze he gave her made her ache inside. “I don’t believe you, my dear. I thought we came to an understanding.”