Glaring at her, he reached out and grasped her wrist. “Well, if you are not going to tell me what I want to know, then perhaps you will tell our host.”
She panicked and tried to yank her arm away, but she could not prevail. “Unhand me this instant!”
“Not until you tell me your name or the name of your employer.”
“She is with me.”
Relief spread over her at Broderick’s deep voice. She wanted to sigh aloud but didn’t dare. Not until after this rude man had left.
Broderick stepped from the shadows and into the light. A small gasp escaped her throat—not from seeing him, but because of what he wore. Instead of wearing the hat and coat of the Cramptons’ driver, Broderick wore a more elegant jacket and a different waistcoat, giving the appearance that he was attending the party. Where could he have possibly gotten those clothes so quickly? Unless… Wasn’t his friend Mr. Daughtery wearing that color of coat?
The young man arched a haughty eyebrow at Broderick and released Emmie.
“And who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Broderick Worthington, Marquess of Wilshire.”
Emmie nearly swallowed her tongue. Why was he using the title his aunt had mentioned he didn’t want? Her heartbeat quickened. Perhaps this meant Broderick was now seriously considering the title.
The other man snickered. “A marquess? Do you think I will believe that rubbish?”
“I’m visiting my aunt and uncle—Mr. and Mrs. Crampton.” Broderick stepped closer. “And this woman is with me and my relatives.”
“But why—”
“It does not matterwhy.” Broderick folded his arms and aimed his glare at the younger man. “Now why don’t you go back into the party instead of sticking your nose into everyone’s business?”
The other man’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he nodded. “As you wish, my lord,” he snapped before marching into the house.
“Oh, Broderick,” she sighed as she walked into his arms. “You arrived just in time.”
He slid his hands up and down her back. “Let us leave before others come outside and start asking questions.” Nodding, she took hold of his hand as he led them back to the carriage. “Do you want to tell me how you got so close to the house when you told me you were going to stand behind the hedges?”
She looked up at him and grinned. “Do you want to tell me why you are using a marquess’s name and where you got that overcoat and waistcoat?”
He chuckled. “Fine, we shall play it your way for now and hide behind our secrets.” Once they were on top of the carriage, Broderick grabbed the reins and got the vehicle into motion.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you back home before anyone else sees you.”
She frowned. “But what about your aunt and uncle?”
“I shall return for them later.”
“What about finding my mother?”
“My friend, Phillip, told me he knows where Mrs. Estelle Winterbourne lives. We can call upon her tomorrow.”
Excitement rushed through Emiline, as did a mixture of emotions—happiness for the time she would see her mother again, yet worry for when she would have to confess the truth to Broderick. “Oh, Broderick.” She clutched his arm and pressed her cheek against it. “You are so wonderful.”
“I promised I would help you, and I will not stop until I have you standing in front of her.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Indeed, you are an extraordinary man.”
*
Broderick clutched thereins tightly, mainly so he wouldn’t be tempted to take Emiline into his arms. Her mother was only a day away from seeing her daughter again, and Broderick was a step closer to never again seeing the woman who’d touched his heart so deeply. Once Emmie and her mother reunited, she would be out of his life. Forever.
