“So you won’t contact the authorities? Surely someone will notice she’s gone missing. Servants talk, Parr.”
“Not mine. And no, I shan’t go to the authorities. The last thing I wish to do is call attention to myself.”
“Allow me to act in your stead. Let me use the authorities at yourrequestto confront Essex and demand the girl be returned. Once I’ve brought her back, she’ll be mine.”
“And if she comes to your marriage bed no longer a maiden?”
“Then she’ll not bear my name, but she’ll still warm my bed.”
Albert shivered with revulsion at Blankenship’s lecherous smile. He would no doubt treat her the same as he would any doxy off the street. Albert cared about his niece’s fate, but his own problems far outweighed hers. Blankenship had a reputation for making men disappear, sometimes reappearing face down in the Thames. The last thing Albert wanted was to end up dead because of his debts. Emily being used as a bargaining tool was the best purpose she could serve. May God forgive him.
“Fine, she is your problem.” Albert rose from his seat with a grimace, and looked at Blankenship with a direct stare, wishing the man would be off—to heaven, to hell,it mattered not. “Now, will you excuse me? I have matters to attend to.”
Blankenship stood stock-still, then curved one end of his lips. “If I don’t get her, your debt remains unpaid, Parr. You know what happens to men who don’t pay.” His face set, the older man turned on his heel and vanished out the door. The ominous threat clouded the air like smoke.
CHAPTER 3
Emily collapsed on her bed, and her whole body shook. Her face burned.
“Abducted by a duke.”
Emily rubbed her temples, her headache returning. This was a nightmare. What would her mother have done in such a situation? Acknowledge the facts. First, in the eyes of society she was as good as ruined. Second, she was at the mercy of a man who wanted to actually ruin her. Third, she needed to figure out what to do about the first and second facts.
Emily drew in a deep breath. She had to make a choice: escape and return to her uncle and Blankenship, remain here with Godric or hope she could make a match with some man desperate to get access to her fortune regardless of her tainted state. Only one of these options held real appeal.
Godric. The idea half terrified, half thrilled her. Didshe want to be with someone though who infuriated her with his arrogance, despite his pleasing form?
Emily’s shoulders sagged. All she wanted was to have the freedom to travel and live her life, hopefully with a man who loved her at her side. She wanted to be in control of her own fate and her own fortune. Even though her inheritance would be under her husband’s control, if she was lucky, she might have some say in its use.
If she stayed with Godric, she’d be at his mercy. He claimed he would take her as a mistress…ifthey suited. Emily snorted. She doubted that he was the sort of man who would do right by a woman. He and his friends had abducted her after all, and this morning’s encounter hadn’t exactly reassured her of his good character. Instead it had reinforced her of his ill intentions. Perhaps if she could get back to London, she could seek refuge with Anne and figure out what to do and how she might still find a husband. It was a slim chance. Even ruined, she might stand a small chance of enticing one of them to marry her. But what about her uncle? He’d prefer to sell her off to pay his debts, as Godric said. Whatever man she could find would have to be willing to go to Gretna Green with her and then face her mother’s cousin and pray he wouldn’t prove troublesome in handing over her inheritance. The entire idea gave her a headache.
She jumped as the door to her room opened. Godric waited, keys in hand, wearing far more clothes than when she’d last encountered him. The sudden memoryof him in his bed sent her heart skipping. Were all ruined women this easily distracted by the sight of a handsome man? It irritated her that she was so affected by him when he’d only caused trouble for her.
“Hungry?” Godric offered her his arm.
Emily grimaced. How could he stand there and pretend they hadn’t been discussing her being his mistress and with him only half-clothed just minutes ago? With a defiant lift of her chin, she marched towards the stairs, ignoring him. She halted abruptly when she reached the bottom. She hadn’t a clue where to go. She wanted to dash for the nearest door, but Emily suspected she wouldn’t make it ten feet before Godric pounced on her.
Godric’s lip’s quirked slightly, too lazy to complete the smile. “I wouldn’t try to run, Miss Parr. My servants have strict instructions to keep you in this house by any means necessary.”
As if to prove his point, a footman exited a nearby door and paused at seeing his master. When Godric nodded slightly, the footman took a moment to study Emily, as though assessing her strengths and weaknesses, before he continued on his way and entered the door down the hall.
Emily sighed and waved a hand. “Please lead the way then, Your Grace.”
Godric grinned and strode away without a backward glance, expecting her to follow.
It was now or never. Seizing what might be her only chance, Emily whirled to the left, toward a large doornot twenty feet away that might lead outside. Clutching her skirts, she sprinted towards it, blood pounding in her ears. Suddenly she pitched forward, falling flat on her stomach.
The cold stone bit into her hands as she sought to brace her fall. Something had latched onto her right ankle. Panting for breath, she looked over her shoulder. Godric crouched behind her, a feral glint in his eyes. “I thought I advised against running, Miss Parr.” Godric smiled as though they were playing some game. It infuriated her. This was her life, her freedom.
“Let me go! You have no right to keep me here.” Emily kicked at his hand with her free foot, but he caught it, then slid her along the floor on her stomach until she lay beneath his crouched body. He released her ankle and rested one forearm on the floor next to her head, and his other hand gripped her hip.
Emily lay still as a doe in the glen catching the scent of man, then focused on her counterattack. She tensed and flipped onto her back, backhanding him with a sharp crack across the face.
The fingers on her hip tightened. “The time you spend here can be civil or not. I shall leave it up to you, but know that for every act of defiance, I will demand something of you in return.” He growled. “You may not like the price.”
His face loomed above hers with the terrible beauty of a vengeful god. With aching slowness he caged her in using his body to trap her. She shuddered at the heavy contact as his limbs matched hers. Ice warred with firealong her skin as she fought tremors of fear. It was as though she faced a lion—raw beauty, extreme power and a posed threat—yet she couldn’t look away. He would devour her.
Reality struck her, reminding her to fight him. His chest was a wall of steel, however. Immovable as a mountain. Left gasping after her efforts, Emily’s eyes burned with tears. She couldn’t free herself, not from him, not from this place.
