Charles raised an eyebrow. “And if we find her?”
“Subdue her by whatever means necessary. Cedric, bring the laudanum.”
Charles balked. “But she hates—”
“I know. It was a mistake to grant her even one measure of freedom.”
Godric scowled and neither man dared argue with him, not while fury lit his eyes like the fires of Hell.
Ten minutes later Godric and Cedric galloped across the meadow under a threatening sky. Cedric stopped well ahead of the wall and made to climb it, but Godric dug his heels into his horse’s side. It cleared the wall entirely. He turned his horse to the left abruptly, as he’d seen Emily do, and spared himself another unpleasant dunking.
He didn’t wait for Cedric.
His eyes scanned the ground for any sign of her passage.
Nothing… It was as though she had vanished into thin air.
Cedric studied the meadow. “Has she been planning this for a long while, do you think?”
“I do. I think she was biding her time for this moment, lulling me into a false sense of security.”
“Then she fooled us all.” Cedric’s voice darkened with disappointment.
“What now?”
Godric raked a hand through his hair. “Where would she go?”
Cedric shrugged. “She could be anywhere. She must have quite a head start.”
“No, she won’t get far with a storm coming. We will find her, no matter how long it takes. I will track her down.”
Cedric’s voice was quiet. “Maybe you ought to let her go.”
“Go?”
A tic worked in Cedric’s jaw but he didn’t back away. “You and I both know that clinging to things we don’t deserve isn’t healthy. Perhaps it is better this way.”
“I don’t care what is better!” Godric roared. “She is mine.” He couldn’t do without her. She was imprinted upon his heart, his soul. She had said she loved him. He wouldn’t let her walk away.
When they returned to the manor, Charles appeared in the doorway, a flicker of apprehension crossed his features.
“No sign of her?”
Cedric frowned. “No. She wasn’t in the gardens, I take it?”
Charles shook his head. “No. Nor the stables, and all the horses are accounted for.”
They returned to the house, helping the servants search room by room. Rain lashed at the windows and lightning laced the skies with white fiery streaks. The clock in the hallway read half-past four. One more precious hour gone.
Godric stood on the landing, scowling as he gazed out the tall window to the view across the meadow, towards the lake.
“Why did you leave me?” His voice wavered. If he hadn’t been in such pain, he would have laughed. The Duke of Essex had found his heart, only to have it broken.
Her leaving him was infinitely more painful than any blow his father ever struck.
His darling, sweet, innocent Emily had betrayed him. She was no different than Evangeline. Yet he would drag her back here and imprison her for as long as he liked. Society and law be damned. She’d wounded his pride, wounded his heart. She’d pay dearly for it.
“Your Grace?” Mrs. Downing cut through Godric’s dark thoughts.
He spun to face his housekeeper at the foot of the stairs. One of the serving maids cowered behind her, avoiding Godric’s glare. “What?”
“This young lady has information regarding Miss Parr.” Mrs. Downing sidestepped and exposed the girl to Godric’s wrath.
Godric descended the steps and grabbed the maid by the shoulders. “Speak, girl!”
The maid cast a furtive glance towards the housekeeper, seeking some aid.
Godric shook her. “Speak now, or you will find employment elsewhere.”
“Sh-She’s gone off with Jonathan Helprin to Blackbriar village. She wore my extra serving gown. She said your life was in dan—”
Godric released her. “Silence!” He turned to the others looking for his butler. “Simkins! Have the grooms ready three horses. Charles! Cedric!”
They emerged from the rooms they’d been searching.
Godric strode to the door. “She’s gone to Blackbriar village. We leave immediately. If we ride hard we can be there in an hour.” Godric slung himself up into the saddle. “I’m on your trail again, little fox.” He was going to catch Emily Parr one last time, and she would never escape him again.
Jonathan stumbled backward, a hand to his jaw as Godric stormed into the room.
Emily scrambled off the bed, realizing how the situation must appear to Godric, she in her undergarments crying and Jonathan only half-dressed.
“What have you done to her? You bastard!” Godric threw himself at Jonathan.
Jonathan put up his hands. “Nothing! I’ve done nothing, I swear!”
Godric threw another vicious punch, and that was it.
Jonathan crumpled to the floor unconscious.
Penelope snarled at Godric, lunging for his Hessians as he turned on Emily. The little hound was determined to protect her mistress.
Cedric and Charles rushed into the room. Relief lightened their faces. “Emily, thank God we found you!” said Cedric
“Wait outside, and take that filthy hound with you and Penelope as well.” Cedric scooped up the pup while Charles dragged out the valet.
Godric slammed the door behind them, turned the lock and faced her. Water streamed down his clothes, and his dark hair curled against the collar of his neck.
The world ceased to move. Stars winked out in the distant cosmos, the wind and rain outside paled into mist. Emerging from the gloom, Godric was her beacon of light, the shelter from her storms.
Emily realized she could never do without him, never leave him again. Without him she would have faded into a shadow of her true self. It had already begun before he’d found her.
Emily choked back a sob.
But she’d abandoned him. Despite her reasons, the love that drove her, the hope that carried her, he wouldn’t forgive her now, perhaps ever. The pain in his eyes told her just what her departure had cost him.
All she had to do was explain. He’d listen, and maybe, if she was lucky, forgive her. He’d have to, once he knew what Evangeline had said.
He removed his cloak, overcoat and shirt, then took slow deep breaths as he stepped towards her. Emily’s heart quickened. She saw the animal lust in his eyes, and she knew her own gaze answered his.
Without a second thought Emily flung herself at him, pressing tight against him, arms banding about his neck. But he didn’t return her embrace. His arms hung at his sides. He was coiled tight, rigid and so impossibly cold.
“Godric, I’m so glad you’re here, but…” Godric pried her arms from around his neck and set her firmly away from him, the distance between them a vast ocean, dark and bottomless. She needed to explain. There was no other option. “You shouldn’t have come. I can’t protect you like this.”
“Do. Not. Speak.”
A rabbit trapped against a serpent’s gaze, Emily stood mesmerized and unable to move. He backed her into a wall, pinning her shoulders with his palms.
“You left me. You lied to me.”
“Listen to me! I had to.”
“You
abandoned
me. So much for your love.” His voice harsh, his teeth gritted.
“You don’t understand, Blankenship was going to—”
He caught her chin with one hand and took her mouth with his. Took everything she offered. He left her no time for breath or thought. Emily gave in. The hard kiss turned soft and deep. His touch was full of tenderness as he stroked her body. He had forgiven her, he had to, otherwise he would not have been so gentle now.
Her breasts grew heavy, aching for his touch and the silken heat of his mouth. Everything she swore she could live without rushed back to her. No sooner could the moon abandon the earth than she could leave him. He would take her back, forgive her for breaking his heart. It was there in his kiss, that sweet emotion she craved.
“Godric, please… I need you.” Her plea was an aching whisper against his neck.
His breath grew ragged as he dug at his breeches, freeing himself. He thrust a hand between her legs, finding the wetness that pooled there for him, and sank two fingers deep between her folds. Emily moaned. He pleasured her with his hand, and each time she tried to shut her eyes, he demanded she look at him, so she did. His face was dark with shadows.
“You left me. Your room was empty. Do you have any idea what that did to me?” The growls vibrated against her throat as he nuzzled her. “You are mine. Do you understand? I’ll never let you go. Never.”
Finally, when Emily was weak-kneed from desire, he snagged her left thigh and wrapped it around his hip. He was poised at her entrance, the tip of him barely inside. For one tense second, their breaths mingled, their eyes locked, and then he plunged inside. Emily cried out. Her head fell back against the wall and Godric fisted his free hand in her hair at the nape of her neck, holding her still. The fingers of his other hand sank into the skin of her thigh as he impaled her against the wall. He kissed her again, taking her lips, a conquering warrior.
Emily accepted it all, moving her hips into his, craving this new wildness. Her own hands scraped his back, marking him. Waves of pleasure rolled through her body as she neared her climax.
Emily raked a hand through his hair. Godric dragged his lips away from hers so he could bury his face in her neck. He pounded harder into her and his thrusts sent her careening over the edge of bliss. Crimson spirals of dark rapture flashed over her eyes. She whispered his name like a midnight prayer, weakening in his arms. With a roar of primal satisfaction, he came. His seed spilled deep into her.
Gasping for air, he sagged against her, keeping them both upright against the wall. Emily finally shut her eyes, stroking his hair, smoothing back the dark silky strands from his temples down to his neck, soothing him.
“God, I’m such a bloody fool.” He shrank away from her. Emily’s knees buckled and she braced against the wall for support.
“What do you mean?” His tone worried her and fear gnawed at her insides. He wasn’t holding her, kissing her. This was not the reunion she’d imagined. Panic began to trickl through her, and her vision blurred with tears.
Godric was still muttering, not looking at her as he fixed his clothes. “You don’t love me. You never have.” The self-deprecating laugh which followed sent chills through her. “If you love someone, you don’t abandon them. You don’t hurt them.”
“I didn’t abandon you, Godric, but I had to leave. I’m so sorry about the note I—” He silenced her with a wave of his hand before tossing her clothes at her feet.
“But you’re in danger!”
Godric ignored her. “Get dressed. We have to return home at once.”
“But why?” Emily froze, gown half up her shaking calves. She had an eerie sensation of dread, as though she was climbing the stairs in the dark and thinking that there was a last step, her foot fell through the empty air, taking her body with it.
“I think perhaps your uncle and I finally agree on something. You’ve outlived your usefulness, and it is time I returned you to him.”
A slap across her cheek would have hurt less.
I’ve outlived my usefulness?
His affections had been merely a momentary attraction built on nothing but lust, just as she’d feared. Now he’d destroy her in return by delivering her back to her uncle and the marriage that would seal her doom.
She blinked, dazed to find Godric holding a silver flask, no doubt filled with the water and laudanum she hated so much. The day couldn’t worsen, of that she was sure.
“That won’t be necessary I promise to come quietly.” She stumbled. Thunder rattled the inn and lightning sparked outside the windows, a reflection of the turmoil in her heart.
Godric studied her before pocketing the flask. “Very well, though your promises mean little to me.”
She finished dressing, hastily shoving buttons in all of the wrong slits, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She’d lost him. What she’d believed had been forgiveness, had merely been a final goodbye. Her own stupid actions had destroyed her precarious grip on his affection.
An unfamiliar despair seized her in its grasp. Her lungs slowed, breath coming shorter and shorter. Black dots spotted her vision. She took a shaky step towards Godric, but the movement sent her vision spiraling out of control. Emily pitched forward as darkness descended and the floor rushed up to meet her.
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 there—marriage 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 into the hall.