.
The first thing Emily realized was that she didn’t want to wake up. Surely, her own bed wasn’t so comfortable and didn’t curve to hold her so snugly. Her room was also never so warm. Why in the world wasn’t her bed this wonderful?
“Come on, Emily, you’re frightening me. Open your damn eyes.”
“Don’t swear at me, it’s dreadfully unattractive,” she said, inadvertently obeying Victor’s command.
She had a moment to wonder what in the world Victor was doing in her bedroom, and then she realized that they were in the carriage, and she and Victor were still in their formal clothes. Slowly, images started coming back to her.
She shook her head.
“Victor, I have had the worst dreams.”
“Have you?”
“Yes. I dreamed... Oh, I dreamed you punched Lord Greville.”
“Ah. Well, you might have dreamed that because I actually did it.”
For a moment, Emily was certain she had stopped breathing. Then she started to laugh, because after all, what in the world could she do?
“Oh, my God, you punched Lord Greville.”
“I did.” Victor gave her a look that she could only see as hopeful. “Perhaps you are not terribly upset by this.”
“Oh, God, you punched Lord Greville.”
She was still laughing as she lunged for the coach’s door. Emily had actually gotten it open an inch before Victor reached past her and slammed it shut again.
“Emily, no!”
“I need to get out there! I might be able to talk to him, explain that whatever it was that you did was some horrible misunderstanding.”
“You don’t even know what I did or what he did!”
“I know what you did,” Emily cried impatiently. “You thought you knew better than him, you tried to tell him what to do, you swore at him, and then, for one reason or another, you punched him!”
Victor paused for a moment.
“Actually, in my defense, I did not swear at him.”
“Oh, well done, I applaud your restraint. Now let me pass!”
“Absolutely not. Emily, sit the hell down, and listen to me.”
“Why in the world should I do that? You say that you are going to help me, and then it all goes wrong!”
“Damn it, Emily, stop!”
He seized her wrists in his hands, dragging her close to him so he could trap her against his body. Emily tried once more to reach across him toward the door, but it was like struggling against iron bands. She went limp, hoping he would let down his guard.
Victor shook his head.
“Not falling for it. Back against the other side of the coach, please. And that door’s kept bolted to prevent theft.”
Emily made a sound that was shockingly like a snarl and threw herself into the seat opposite him, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at him in helpless fury.
“Aren’t you even curious what happened?” Victor asked.
“What could possibly have made you punch a peer at a ball?”
“The man was, not to put too fine a point on it, a monster, Emily. He was going to ruin you. He wanted to seduce you, say he was taking you to Gretna Green, and then abandon you on the road. It sounds like he’s done this before, and I have every intention of finding someone to open an investigation against him. He wanted to hurt you.”
Emily went still for a moment, and she took a deep breath. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, and if she didn’t stop and gather herself, she would scream. She would just start screaming.
“All right,” she said at last. “This is fine.”
“It... is?”
“We can still make this work. Perhaps I can talk to him somewhere, maybe arrange to be ‘accidentally’ alone with him. We can start off on the journey to Gretna Green...”
“Did you strike your head somehow? Are you insane? The man wants to ruin you and walk off whistling without consequences!”
Emily shot Victor a dire look.
“Oh, I certainly know that, Victor. I also know a little something about plans taking unexpected detours. Like the man who is supposed to be getting me married suddenly turning around and punching my potential husband.”
“You still think that Greville is the man you should be marrying? He doesn’t even want to marry you. How many times do I have to say it?”
“He may not want to marry me, but I’m sure he will when you show up to discover us.”
“And what, force him to the altar with a threat of pistols at dawn? What in the name of God would make me do that?”
“I don’t know! I just assumed that since you were willing to punch a man at a ball that you may not shy away from forcing him to the altar!”
“I am not going to force a terrible man to marry you. What the hell is the matter with you, Emily? The man’s a nightmare, not to put too fine a point on it! You’re intelligent, you’re beautiful, you’re clever as the dickens when you want your way, so why him?”
Something in Emily broke then, and she swore that her vision was tinged with red.
“Because I don’t have a choice! I need a husband!”
She tried to dash for the door again, but Victor caught her, folding her up in his arms. She could feel the passion in her boiling over, twisting and turning until she wasn’t sure if she hated Victor or if there was something far more complicated underneath. For a moment, Emily was sure that she was going to slap him, box his ears until they rang. Somehow though, instead of striking, her hand cupped the back of his neck, and they were so close to each other that they could not help but give in to the urge to be closer yet.
Their kiss burned through them both, and this time, there was no mistaking the raw sensuality that tore at them. Victor’s tongue breached her mouth, and to her delirious shock, she drew her lips along it, almost faint with the pleasure it gave her. She was so close to him, closer than she had ever been with another person, but it wasn’t enough. It was far from enough. Suddenly, she wanted to feel his bare skin under her fingertips, wanted him free to touch her.
“God, what are you doing to me?” Victor muttered, and she thought that was quite unfair.
“Don’t you know?” she whispered into his mouth. “I was hoping at least one of us did.”
Victor’s laugh was a strangled sound, and his broad hand ran up and down her spine. She arched against him, and he nuzzled her chin and the space right under her jaw. Suddenly, she wished she was wearing one of her low-cut dresses, so she could feel what his hands felt like there. What his mouth might feel like.
“When it comes to you, Emily? I barely know which way is up.”
Some sixth sense made Emily break free from his embrace, throwing herself into the bench opposite his. Victor started to reach for her again, but there was a sharp rap on the carriage door and it swung open, letting Winnie back inside.
“Oh, my dear Emily, are you quite well?” asked Winnie as the coach lurched into motion. “You look quite flushed. Are you coming down with a fever?”
Emily blushed hard enough that she probably could have convinced her aunt that she did indeed have a fever.
“No... no, the crush was just overwhelming though, Aunt Winnie. Were you all right?”
Winnie waved her off.
“Oh, my dear, I am quite the veteran of these battles, and what’s more, I had Genie—that is, Sir Eugene—by my side. We cut our way through the crowd, and soon enough, we heard what had happened, though there is some debate, of course. There always is when it comes to a scandal.”
Emily blanched.
“A scandal?” Was she going to see her hopes die with a whimper in this very coach?
“Oh, yes. The ballroom is buzzing about how Lord Grenville somehow got deep in his cups and ended up not only provoking his grace, the duke, and insulting you, but also insulting the person of none other than Lady Castlereagh!”
Emily’s eyes went wide. The patronesses of Almack’s were the arbiters of taste, style, and propriety for all the ton, and the idea of one of them being so very insulted was nearly terrifying.
“Is Lady Castlereagh all right?”
“Oh, her dignity is a little scuffed up, but she was fine after Lady Sefton saw to her. I can tell you that Lord Greville will not be entering Society ever again, not if those two have anything to say about it.”
“Am I to take it that Lady Sefton and Lady Castlereagh have a great deal to say about those matters then?” asked Victor with a frown.
Winnie shot him a tolerant look.
“Yes, your grace. They are quite powerful, and if they were to give you the cut direct, why, a French saber might be preferable.”
“And did they say anything about me?” asked Victor.
To Emily’s surprise, he seemed genuinely concerned. She felt a pang of guilt over this. She knew that blackmailing him certainly wasn’t a kind thing to do, and she promised herself all over again that she would stop it as soon as she could. As soon as she had a husband. As soon as she ensured the safety of the one who truly mattered.
“You have courted Lady Luck well tonight,” proclaimed Winnie. “There is talk about your carrying Emily off in a dead faint, but after Lord Greville’s disgrace, I’d wager it will be forgotten.”
Emily frowned.
“Are people going to remark on us leaving together? I’m sure that Victor was meant to take me to one of the drawing rooms, not out to his coach...”
Winnie winked.
“Well, that is what Sir Eugene is for, isn’t it? Your grace, I hope you remember that after you handed our Emily off to me, you went off to play a hand or so of whist with Sir Eugene. He’s a terrific whist player, you understand, and he likely kept you at it the rest of the night.”
“Ah, so he is. Tell me, did I win or lose?” Victor grinned slightly, and Emily felt her stomach lurch a little the way it did when Victor smiled.
“Well, you lost, of course. Sir Eugene is very skilled.”
“Of course, Lady Caverly.”
There was still so much they needed to speak about, so very much that needed to be discussed, but Emily felt a deep wave of exhaustion come over her. They could talk about all of it tomorrow, couldn’t they? They could figure out what needed to happen next and speak about how tonight had failed and how to make sure that the time to come would be a success. Emily knew that it all needed to be done, but goodness, it was all so very tiring.
Tomorrow, she could have it out with Victor properly over Lord Grenville. In many ways, he would have been perfect. He was a toad, but he would not have expected her to like him, and it would make the eventual betrayal much, much easier for her.
Still, though, she could not bring herself to mourn overmuch about not marrying the man. He might have been perfect for her plan, but as time went on, she was growing more and more uneasy with all of it. However, Emily was still set on her goal. She was never going to back down from her responsibilities.
As they rode back to Winnie’s tidy little townhouse, Emily leaned against her aunt’s shoulder. She could feel Victor’s eyes on her, even in the dark. Somehow, she knew that he was watching her with that peculiarly gentle expression he had on his face sometimes, something sweet and almost wistful.
In her nearly sleeping state, Emily allowed her heart to swell with feeling for him. When she was unguarded, when she knew that there was no chance of the words coming out of her mouth, Emily could admit how much she cared for him, and how deep it truly ran.
I must never say it. Who could ever tell what Victor might do if he knew that I...
She drew away from the word, even in her own mind.
After all, she had never expected as a woman with a child that she would ever, ever be allowed to be in love.