Dinner that night was a far more formal affair than any other since Emily's abduction. Prior to Evangeline's arrival, all propriety and formality had been banished where the five lords were concerned. Now they observed every single point of etiquette, even though Evangeline wasn't present. Libba had told Emily that Godric had ordered his former mistress to take her meals in her room. That, at least, gave Emily a tiny sense of comfort, knowing that Godric wouldn't allow her to dine with them.He sat at the head of the table with Emily directly to his right. The rest of the men ranged down on either side according to titled order. Well turned out, each gentlemen wore black knee breeches and well-tailored black coats. Emily wore an ice blue silk gown overlaid with a layer of silver netting. Pale stars were embroidered on her matching slippers and pearls threaded her hair like frozen dewdrops. She couldn't believe the results Libba had wrought. She'd never looked so beautiful, never felt
Godric held Emily's body loose against him. One of her bare legs stretched over his abdomen, and he rested a possessive hand on the soft skin of her outer thigh. Her head rested on his chest and her faint breaths betrayed her deep state of sleep. He'd worn her out tonight, she was still adjusting to his voracious appetite. She was bolder too, but she still made love with that strange mixture of wanton innocence.It would be a lie to deny his joy at the enthusiasm and boldness in her responses. She loved him, he heard her breathe it once while asleep, and today, she'd said it without the influence of passion. She'd not taken it back, and for that he was glad.No one had ever claimed to love him before, no woman besides his mother. He was loved by Simkins and the League, but Emily was different. He'd always assumed a woman's love would be a burden, but it wasn't. Her affection and loyalty strengthened him. She knew him for who he was, but she loved him anyway, loved him enough to decla
The house was rid of Evangeline Mirabeau long before breakfast was even set. Someone had seen to her early departure, and the rest of the house was none the wiser as to who it was. It would seem that, having played her role, she had wisely chosen to leave lest she still be around when Blankenship's men arrived. The relief among the lords was tangible. Breakfast became a cheery affair, and despite Emily's plans to depart, she took advantage of these last few hours with her friends. For they were just that. She'd miss Ashton mothering over the others. She'd miss Lucien's attempts to hide behind his newspaper while teasing the others. She wouldn't get to fish or hunt with Cedric, nor listen to Charles's outlandish tales.And Godric She would miss life with him, but she had no choice."Toast, Emily?" Charles offered a plate of toast as it came her way, breaking through her dark thoughts."Why, thank you, Charles," she said."You're welcome." The earl winked, and when she fetched a slic
Emily spent her last hours collecting her few possessions into the small cloth bag that Libba left under her bed. Tucked away were her butterfly comb and brush, her night rail, and a spare set of clothes to change into once she could remove Libba's uniform. The trickiest part would be Penelope. She couldn't leave the puppy behind. Libba would fetch the dog and bring her out to the cart. Soon she would be Emily's only companion.Libba returned and helped Emily into the extra maid gown. Emily tucked her small bag of possessions in her arms while Libba fixed the white cap over her hair. If she kept her head down, she might yet escape.Libba peeked out the door, then waved to Emily that the halls were clear. There was no sign of anyone; the upper manor hall was quiet. She walked briskly, head bent to the floor, her ears pricked for the slightest noise.In the parlor, Cedric and Godric laughed about something. She lingered for a brief painful second.Goodbye, my League of Rogues.She s
Godric left Cedric alone in the drawing room to check on Emily. She'd looked decidedly pale and he was worried.I'll read to her! She'll like that.His eagerness surprised him, the temptation to abandon his friends and seek her out was great. But she probably needed some time alonewomen often did; they were quite mysterious creatures. Knowing this didn't make him miss her any less. He snatched a book from his study and hurried upstairs.On his way to her room he passed by a chamber he'd not entered in years. Strangely tempted, he opened the door. The nursery was a lovely room, even when muted by afternoon shadows and warm with its buttery yellow walls decorated by various painted scenes. Scenes painted by Godric's father a month before Godric was born.He remembered his father pointing to a mighty frigate, guns blasting at a pirate vessel, deep voice rumbling as he spoke of age-old tales.Godric's gaze fixed on another scene, one of a babe in a basket nestled against a wall of ree
Godric caught Emily a second before she hit the floor. He cradled her to his chest, savoring the feel of her in his arms, then chastised himself for doing so.Her escape had proven her intentions well enough. Her whispered words of love were nothing more than lies, a clever ruse to lower his guard.He retrieved Emily's small cloth bag where she'd set it down by the door. Her head lolled sideways, bumping into his chest. God, he was a fool.He was even more a fool for threatening to return her. He knew what life awaited her theremarriage to Blankenship, a lifetime of misery. He wanted her to deserve that after what she'd done to him, but revenge seemed the farthest thing from his heart.Emily needed to go. That was all. If she stayed, he'd do something he'd regret, like beg her to love him. He'd relive his boyhood all over again, seeking love, knowing it would never come. The self-loathing that coiled about him increased with every step as he finally opened the door and came out int
Emily stirred, her breath shallow.Heavy rocks lay on her chest. It was harder and harder to fill her lungs.Panic surged through her, making her body shudder. Glass shards seemed to be embedded in her throat when she tried to swallow. She needed to cough, but no strength remained. The rasp of her indrawn breath sounded like an ominous death rattle. "Emily!" A man's voice. Low, hoarse, and grating to her ears. She winced as she tried to swallow again, and finally managed a weak cough."Emily?" The voice was a familiar one, a warm hand on her forehead.Where am I?Sensations crept back on her, the soft slide of bed sheets beneath her bare skin, the aroma of sandalwood. Men were nearby. Who? Though she couldn't see it, she could feel the pulsing rhythm of a candle nearby."Quick, Charles, the water." Cedric, her mind finally recalled. She was at Godric's estate, in his bed. Once again a captive of the League of Rogues."Godric"Cedric shushed her, then raised a glass of water t
Once upstairs, Godric put Emily down on his bed and started to move to the empty chair nearby. Emily grabbed his arm, keeping him close."Stay." Her free hand patted the bed. Godric sat down on the edge of the bed, bent over and pulled his boots off and turned to join her. Emily snuggled deep into the covers.Godric turned her face towards his. "Emily, about what happened in the inn""Yes?""That should never have happened. It will never happen again." He brushed his lips against hers."Don't promise that. It was beyond anything I've ever experienced. Of course, at the time I thought you had forgiven me and had missed me terribly.""Forgive you? Emily, I was not gentle with you. Why don't you hate me?" Fearful confusion clouded his wide eyes."I could never hate you. Godric, I love you. Haven't I told you enough for you to believe me? As for not being gentle I enjoyed it. Now stay. Sleep with me." Her voice was a command. "From what Cedric said, you've not had any rest."Godric
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening's snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.The way Phillip's eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for
Ella awoke to the smell of porridge, eggs, and ham. She moved languidly, stretching her limbs, feeling sore between her thighs and a slight dampness in the sheets. Her face flushed as she sat up in bed. Phillip was seated by the fire, reading a novel. A tray of food sat on the table beside him, untouched."You should eat."He looked over his shoulder at her, his mouth quirking into a grin. "I was waiting for you. Come." He patted his lap, and the invitation was too much for her to resist. She slipped out of bed and joined him. He curled an arm around her waist as she eased down on his lap."How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes tender as he looked at her."A little sore," she admitted. "But wonderful too. I fear you've given me a taste for sin.""Have I now?" His delighted chuckle pleased her so much that her heart hurt. She loved his laugh, his smile, everything. She wanted only happiness for him because he had suffered so much."Yes, most definitely. Where did you learn such a u
Phillip woke before dawn, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. A beautiful woman lay beside him, and memories of how sweet the previous night had been made him want to burst into song like a lovestruck fool. He'd given her pleasure and she'd returned it, and it had been going so damned well until he'd fallen asleep. Yet his body didn't ache, and his leg didn't hurt as he was used to first thing in the morning. He moved slightly, expecting pain, but the usual stiffness in his thigh and lower calf and shin weren't there.He stared down at Ella's scantily clad body lying beside him. Had she truly rubbed his body last night, or had it been a sweet dream? He'd gotten so used to that, dreaming she was there to heal everything with her love and sweetness, that he didn't quite trust the reality.No, it hadn't been a dream. She had pleasured him with her mouth and almost brought him to his knees. Then she'd shown tenderness in helping him with his leg. God, the woman was exquisite
The night was full of magic. Ella couldn't stop smiling as she left the dancers and returned to the table with Bridget.Warwick poured them wine from a bottle a barmaid delivered to them. "Well done, ladies, well done."The wine was sweet on Ella's tongue and went straight to her head as she ate dinner. Phillip kept a hand on her waist, so deliciously scandalous, even though they were pretending to be married. She could have floated away without a care in the world."Well, it's getting late. I think we'll turn in," Phillip said at last. "It was a pleasure to meet you both."Bridget smiled. "As it was for us, my lord."Phillip collected his cane, and Ella slipped her arm in his as they headed for the stairs."You were stunning tonight," Phillip said as they climbed the steps together."Was I?" She couldn't resist preening a little. She rarely received compliments from men who weren't her brothers."You were most enchanting." Phillip leaned against the wall as he unlocked their d
Phillip was damned, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. She was so tender, so full of warmth and youthful excitement. Her kiss made him feel like the man he'd once been long ago. Like the man who'd danced with her in that ballroom ages ago, feeling her spin and twirl back into his arms. How she'd looked up at him when he'd kissed her beneath that starry night sky, and he'd thought in that moment they could have held the entire world between them.Now he was kissing her again, and it was different. She was not a young, teasing debutante. She was a woman now, one who'd learned disappointments and heartache and clung to happiness that much stronger whenever she found it. He wanted to make sure their time together now was everything she'd dreamed of.Her eager response to the touch of his lips or the flick of his tongue against hers brought back a flood of excitement. He'd thought he was incapable of feeling like this again, but he'd been blissfully wrong. A sweet melody echoed about
The following morning, Ella stepped out into the courtyard between the two gatehouses and blinked in surprise to find Phillip dressed and ready to leave. She'd thought perhaps after last night he wouldn't come. Yet there he was, eyes glinting with amusement at her astonishment.He looked dashing in buff trousers and an indigo waistcoat. A greatcoat hung around his shoulders, only adding to the handsome picture he presented. Beyond him a large traveling coach stood ready. Marcus and Cora were helping the driver secure several valises to the back of the coach. The morning sky was still a watery gray as the sun failed to penetrate the heavy snow clouds that had gathered above them.Phillip greeted her with a smile as she reached him. "Good morning."She smiled back, but a sudden bout of nerves made her tremble. Had she really asked him to tutor her in seduction last night? The reality of that moment was now a little daunting in the cold light of day."Come now, don't be shy," Phillip
Ella followed Mr. Boucher through the house as he escorted her to her chambers for the night. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth to protect from sunlight and dust. Many of the tall paned windows throughout the house were shuttered, effectively sealing off the rooms from light and life. This beautiful house had been emptied of people. Closed off, just like its master.They passed into one of the few more well-lit rooms, a long hall with paintings of fine-faced men and women. She glanced up at more than one of the portraits, seeing Phillip's eyes or chin, even his nose in several of the ancestors upon the walls."Mr. Boucher.""Yes, Lady Ella?""Is he in much pain?" She was perhaps indelicate to inquire about Phillip's injuries in such a way, but she needed answers.Boucher paused to look at her in the moonlight. Whatever he seemed to be looking for he must have found."Yes. In the beginning, he couldn't walk. He lay in bed for several weeks, only moving with the aid of oth
Phillip sat in the faded armchair in his study, staring into the crackling fire in the fireplace. His left leg ached, especially during the damp winter months. He rubbed his thigh, squeezing the muscles, and then farther down to his shin and calf. The muscles were still weak from the lack of use. But it hurt too much to walk, so he did so only when necessary.A sound from the hall below caught his attention. Voices. Who the devil could Boucher be talking to? They'd reduced the staff over the last year, mainly because he had shut up most of the house since he remained close to his bedchamber and never entertained. He sat up a little in his chair, listening to the sounds of a woman. The pair of maids he still employed were likely on the first floor of the house at the farthest end where the other bedchambers were or in the kitchens."Boucher?" he called out, but his voice was hoarse since he hadn't used it in what felt like days. He hadn't had occasion to see anyone or truly talk to an
One year later"If I have to listen to one more man explain to me that business and politics are not things to concern myself with," Ella growled over the rim of her teacup."It is most frustrating," her friend, Audrey St. Laurent, agreed. "I often say some men need a good whack to the heador between their legs, depending on the man."Ella snickered but then sighed as her mood deflated again."What's truly bothering you?" Audrey inquired.Ella glanced about Audrey's morning room, seeking a distraction from her mortification, but they were alone. A fire crackled in the hearth, and sunlight glinted off the snow outside. It was a perfectly lovely day, which made her black mood all the worse."At one and twenty, it seems I'm now to attract the worst sort of men. I was at Lady Hearst's ball last evening, and every single man I danced with lectured me about how fortunate I was to even be dancing at my age. To make it worse, the younger ladies have taken offense at my being there. More